The Severed Sun

If you like that - and if you do, you must be in movie heaven the last decade - you'll probably enjoy it. I say this because somehow no other review has mentioned it and I don't want anyone else who's looking for atmospheric, slow-burn, folk horror *without* a lecture about society's ills and how they're mostly men's fault, to spend money on it and be disappointed. Otherwise, enjoy.

Ah, not enough characters. I don't have anything much to say (like the movie! Ha!) so I'm going to pad my review with this unnecessary filler (I'd say "like the movie" again, but that's debatable). I wonder if Amazon will give me a refund.

While I had indeed never even heard about this 2024 horror movie titled "The Severed Sun", from writer and director Dean Puckett, prior to stumbling upon it by random chance here in 2025, of course I needed no persuasion to sit down and watch it, as I am a huge fan of all things horror after all.

Initially I wasn't really harboring the biggest of expectations, as the movie's synopsis wasn't exactly particularly thrilling or promising of anything grand. But still, I opted to give the movie the benefit of the doubt, and also give it a fair chance.

It was a rather slow paced and somewhat dull narrative that writer Dean Puckett had conjured up. At 45 minutes into the 80 minute runtime there still hadn't been anything particularly thrilling happening on the screen.

Well, if you enjoy a slow paced and slow burn movie, then "The Severed Hand" will deliver. I, however, prefer a movie with a bit more speed and contents to the narrative, so I was not particularly entertained by this movie.

The only familiar face on the screen, for me, was actor Toby Stephens. The acting performances in the movie, despite the bland script, were actually fair.

Director Dean Puckett makes use of a lot of interesting and nice natural shots every now and again, which definitely helps set a particular mood throughout the course of the movie.

As for "The Severed Sun" being a horror movie, well that might be stretching the term loosely. This was more of a supernatural drama laced with thriller elements.

This was, in fact, a struggle to sit through.

My rating of writer and director Dean Puckett's 2024 movie "The Severed Sun" lands on a generous three out of ten stars.

Something similar in the last few years but this one was set in a forest in Norway. Same sort of beast but roughly 9 feet tall and it's horns went upwards and not curled inwards. I like horror films but more with a sci-fi look and this wasn't for me at all. Even though I stayed the full course of 80 minutes I was bored before halfway. To say it wasn't scary would be unfair as I don't find any films scary. Toby Stephens is always worth a look-in and if he wasn't in the cast list I probably wouldn't have bothered. Other cast members I had never heard of or I failed to recognise them. It kills 80 minutes if you're bored.

The Severed Sun is a film that, mercifully, remembers what so many modern horror directors seem to forget: that atmosphere is not something you slap on in post-production with a minor key drone and desaturated filters, but something you conjure - patiently, deliberately - like a ritual. Dean Puckett, expanding upon his 2018 short The Sermon, crafts a feature debut that feels less like a debut and more like the unearthed relic of an older, more restrained era of horror - where implication mattered more than exposition and every shadow could be something watching.

At a brisk 80 minutes, the film wastes no time and yet never feels rushed. There's an economy of storytelling here that puts bloated, algorithm-choked studio horrors to shame. The forest in which most of the story unfolds is not merely a backdrop, but a character - mute, implacable, and haunted. And the monster that haunts it? A creation of impressive visual clarity and mythic resonance. Black as coal, eyes aglow with icy white light, crowned with curling, Satanic horns - it doesn't lumber or screech; it looms. It suggests. And in doing so, it unnerves far more than a dozen overused jumpscares ever could.

The film's sound design deserves particular praise - not in the way it shocks, but in how it presses. The musical choices don't scream at you; they creep into your nerves, subtle yet insistent, like the forest itself whispering warnings you cannot parse. It is a rare modern horror film that understands silence not as a void to be filled, but a canvas to be respected.

Toby Stephens, as The Pastor, commands the screen with the kind of authority that doesn't demand attention but assumes it. His presence is magnetic - righteous, wrathful, and disturbingly human. He's not merely a man of faith; he's a man possessed by faith, and Stephens threads that needle beautifully. Emma Appleton, as Magpie, delivers a capable and grounded performance, though in a cast that burns this brightly, she sometimes feels like the eye of the storm - calm, essential, but less arresting than the chaos swirling around her.

It would be dishonest to claim this film will satisfy everyone. It lacks the candy-coated terror and expository handholding that audiences have been trained to expect. There is no easy catharsis, no final girl quipping over the corpse. And thank God for that. The Severed Sun is not interested in comforting you. It is interested in confronting you - with dread, with decay, with belief.

No, this is not a horror film for the masses. It is a horror film for those who understand that true fear is not loud - it is patient. And it waits, unseen, in the woods.