There’s something about folk horror that works particularly well when it gets its hands dirty. Give me a miserable village, a population convinced that God is keeping score, and a forest that might be hiding something far worse than the people living outside it. Especially one that feels like a black metal album brought to life. That’s the territory Heresy, directed by Didier Konings, explores, and it makes good use of its 61-minute running time.
Set in a medieval Dutch village, the film follows Frieda (Anneke Sluiters), a woman whose inability to conceive has made her a target for a community that measures a woman’s worth by her ability to produce children. Which, of course, would never happen in this day and age, because we’re far more enlightened now. These days, we judge women by how many Instagram likes they get instead.
Religion dictates how these people live, but their faith seems remarkably convenient when it comes to justifying their treatment of anyone who doesn’t fit the mould. Frieda finds herself pushed further towards the margins of society, punished for something that has made her no less deserving of compassion.
When a violent encounter forces Frieda into the forbidden forest, she comes face-to-face with something beyond the understanding of the people back home. The woods are supposed to be a place of danger, inhabited by mysterious beings the villagers have every reason to fear. But Frieda’s encounter sets events in motion that challenge the beliefs governing her life. The place she’s been taught to fear may offer a way out, while the people claiming to act in God’s name have already made her existence miserable.
Seriously, if she had walked out in corpse paint and a bullet belt, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
It’s a strong premise for folk horror because the threat isn’t confined to whatever might be lurking among the trees. The village has its own monsters, and they don’t need supernatural powers to do their damage. Religious doctrine becomes a convenient excuse for cruelty, with the community protecting its own rules rather than questioning why Frieda should be made to suffer. It’s an ugly situation, but one that gives the story a human centre beyond the supernatural mystery.
Konings also makes excellent use of the setting. The cinematography favours deep shadows, muted colours and compositions that bring classical paintings to mind, giving the film a convincing sense of medieval hardship without making everything look over-designed. The village feels closed in and unforgiving, while the forest offers a stark contrast. It’s hardly a welcoming place, but there’s a sense of freedom in its uncertainty that the rigid social order back home cannot provide.
The folklore adds another interesting dimension without needing to turn the film into a history lesson. The original Dutch title, Witte Wieven, refers to mysterious female spirits from the folklore of the Low Countries. These traditions give the supernatural elements a cultural foundation, while the conflict with the village’s Christianity raises questions about who gets to decide what is evil and what deserves to be feared. The film doesn’t need to make every mystery explicit for that conflict to work.
Anneke Sluiters anchors the story as Frieda, giving the character a compelling presence as her circumstances change. Frieda begins as someone whose community has decided her worth for her, but the encounter in the forest offers the possibility of something beyond that judgement. Sluiters gives the character room to develop without reducing her to a straightforward victim, which helps the supernatural side of the story retain its impact.
At just 61 minutes, Heresy gets on with its story rather than stretching the premise beyond what it needs. The atmosphere is allowed to develop, the folklore has room to breathe, and the film builds towards a final act that takes things in a wild and deeply satisfying direction. That finale was one of the things that stayed with me about the film, delivering a payoff that makes the journey worthwhile.
Heresy combines striking visuals, an effective central performance, and a narrative grounded in the damage inflicted when beliefs are mistaken for unquestionable truth. A hostile village, a forbidden forest, and an ancient presence beyond society’s boundaries provide more than enough weight in capable hands.
Heresy was released on UK digital platforms on September 28th, 2026.
