Kandisha (2022)

Kandisha feels special because it takes a familiar “say her name” setup and charges it with real cultural texture, turning Moroccan folklore into something immediate, angry, and unforgettable. Maury and Bustillo stage the horror with a nasty, propulsive confidence: the creature design is striking, the gore is satisfyingly practical and mean, and the tension builds in clean, escalating waves until the set pieces hit with full-force supernatural-slasher momentum. What keeps it from being just a body-count ride is the friendship at its center, grounding the fear in a lived-in neighborhood vibe and the messy consequences of a wish made in pain. If you want subtle, slow-burn dread, this may be too blunt and brutal—but if you’re craving an intense, crowd-pleasing shocker that keeps getting worse in the best way, it delivers.

Kandisha clearly wants to fuse a modern urban-legend teen horror with Moroccan folklore and a timely revenge angle, and the setup has real promise. The problem is it often feels like it’s borrowing more than it’s inventing, with familiar “say her name” beats and a story that takes its time before it starts delivering. Once it does, the kills and creature concept can be effectively nasty, but the pacing and uneven character work make the whole thing feel more like a rough draft than a standout nightmare. If you’re hoping for a fresh, folklore-driven horror with strong atmosphere and originality, you may leave annoyed; if you’re fine with a competent, sometimes grisly genre ride that wears its influences loudly, it’ll do the job.