
Show Notes
Neil Jordan and Angela Carter turn Little Red Riding Hood into a nested dream of wolves, warning stories and growing up. FolknHell gets into the artificial forest, the gloriously different transformation scenes and the awkward question of whether a fairy tale this strange is horror, folk horror, or both.
The woods are indoors, the bedroom is leaking into the forest, Angela Lansbury is issuing increasingly alarming advice about men who are hairy on the inside, and nobody in Rosaleen's dream seems especially surprised when something impossible happens.
In this episode, FolknHell revisits Neil Jordan and Angela Carter's The Company of Wolves (1984), a film several of us first encountered far too young on television. We talk about its deliberately artificial studio forest, the way household objects migrate into the dream landscape, its stories-within-stories structure, and four werewolf transformations that refuse to behave the same way twice.
The film's real subject soon becomes harder to miss. Rosaleen is growing up while everyone around her offers a different version of what the path, the woods, sex, marriage and adulthood are supposed to mean. The wolves are predators, but they are also possibility. The village is safety, but safety starts to look suspiciously like staying exactly where you are told.
And then there is the folk horror question. Is a dream built from fairy tales, folklore and inherited warnings folk horror if it is not especially interested in conventional horror tension? We end up much more interested in what the old stories are doing than in whether the film can be made to sit tidily inside a genre box.
Spoilers throughout.
FolknHell Verdict A strange, beautiful and densely packed film that uses fairy-tale artificiality as a strength. The studio-bound forest gives the dream nowhere to escape to, while folklore, inherited warnings and a closed village place it firmly inside the folk-horror conversation. The horror may be intermittent, but the folk material is doing serious work.
Scores David Hall: 8/10 Dave Houghton: 9/10 Andy Davidson: 8/10 Total: 25/30
Links To Add The FolknHell episode: The FolknHell transcript: IMDb: TMDb: Rotten Tomatoes: LetterBoxd: Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Company_of_Wolves
Content Warning Spoilers throughout. Discussion includes body horror, predatory sexual behaviour, domestic violence and the sexual awakening of an adolescent character. Folknhell is the folk horror podcast where Andy Davidson, Dave Houghton and David Hall dig into strange cinema, argue about whether it really counts as folk horror, and score every film out of 30.
Add your own score and comments about the films at https://www.folknhell.com/scores
Find us on the socials: YouTube: @folknhell Facebook: FolknHell X: @FolknHell Bluesky: FolknHell
See acast.com/privacy for info. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
More from FolknHell
The Blair Witch Project became a phenomenon by convincing audiences there might really be something in the woods. FolknHell goes back to Burkittsville to ask what remains once the marketing fog clears, whether the film still works, and whether a few bound twigs are enough to make it folk horror.
FolknHell heads to a remote Devon church for Elliot Goldner’s found-footage horror The Borderlands, also known as Final Prayer. There are Vatican sceptics, far too many explanations about cameras, an older belief system under the floorboards, and an ending that finally remembers how horrible all of this ought to be.
Charlie Robb’s Loner (2025) drops a lonely, deeply unreliable vlogger into the Northumbrian woods and lets social-media fakery collide with something that may be older, hungrier and considerably less interested in Wi-Fi. FolknHell asks whether this is folk horror, horror-comedy, or folk horror about folk horror.
Mark Jenkin’s Rose of Nevada gives FolknHell a lost fishing boat, a thirty-year time slip, suspiciously dead fish and a surprisingly strong case for Cornish folk horror. Andy, David and Dave agree on the film. The timeline is another matter entirely. Spoilers throughout. Watch the film first unless you fancy sailing directly into the temporal fog.
FolknHell tackles Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974), its still-shocking violence, suspicious barbecue and surprisingly solid claim to American folk horror. Also, this is Take Two because somebody forgot to press record. Spoilers throughout. Watch the film first if you would rather enter the farmhouse without knowing exactly where the hooks are.