May the Devil Take You (2018)

May the Devil Take You is the kind of horror film that grabs you by the collar and refuses to let go, a ferociously energetic descent into occult dread that feels like a midnight-movie crowd-pleaser with real craft behind the chaos. Timo Tjahjanto turns an old villa into a pressure cooker of atmosphere—creaking shadows, bad memories, and the sense that every door you open is a mistake—then punctuates it with gloriously nasty, practical gore that’s as inventive as it is relentless. Chelsea Islan anchors the madness with a grounded, determined performance, giving the film a human pulse even when it’s gleefully veering into Evil Dead-style excess. It’s not for the squeamish or anyone allergic to extreme violence, but if you want a fast, fun, and fearlessly bloody supernatural ride, this one delivers in buckets.

May the Devil Take You is clearly aiming for a full-throttle, Sam Raimi-style haunted-house splatter ride, mixing family trauma with demonic folklore and nonstop escalation. When it works, it’s because Timo Tjahjanto stages nasty set pieces with real energy and some memorably grotesque imagery, so gorehounds will get their money’s worth. The problem is the storytelling: it’s messy and structurally wobbly, with characters and plot turns that feel like they exist mainly to shuttle you to the next shock rather than build dread or meaning. If you want disciplined mystery, emotional weight, or originality, this will likely feel loud and shallow; if you’re here for relentless, severe gore and chaotic evil-house mayhem, you’ll probably have a good time.