Belzebuth (2019)

Belzebuth feels like an exorcism movie that’s been dragged out of the cathedral and into the raw, uneasy daylight of the borderlands, where faith, violence, and grief collide with unnerving force. Emilio Portes opens with a gut-punch and never lets you settle, driving the story forward with a detective’s momentum while the supernatural dread creeps in like a stain you can’t scrub out. Joaquín Cosío anchors the film with a wounded, resolute presence, and Tobin Bell brings a flinty gravity that makes the spiritual warfare feel harshly physical rather than theatrical. It’s ferocious, timely, and surprisingly inventive for the subgenre—but be warned: the violence, especially involving children, is extreme, so this is one for horror viewers who can handle a movie that refuses to look away.

Belzebuth is clearly aiming for a grim, borderland supernatural thriller that fuses real-world horror with demonic mythology, and it commits hard to that bleak tone from the start. The problem is that after a genuinely shocking setup, it slides into familiar possession/exorcism beats and a lot of lore-dumping that can feel convoluted and oddly deflating, as if explanations are being used to paper over tension rather than build it. It does have a solid lead performance and a nasty, oppressive atmosphere, but the violence—especially involving children—is relentless and may feel more punishing than purposeful for many viewers. If you’re sensitive to child harm, or you’re tired of genre conventions dressed up as “ancient evil,” this one is very likely not worth your time.