Spanked by a Ghost (2025): Directed by Katelyn Douglass, this follows a lonely protagonist who finds herself living in a house that isn’t just haunted. It’s handsy. But she doesn’t run for the hills. Instead, she becomes obsessed. So what starts off as a standard ghost story becomes an exploration of repressed, supernatural desire. As the entity becomes more aggressive, the film shifts from jump-scare horror to something much stranger. Now, it’s a messy, eroticized fever dream that asks, “What happens when you fall in love with the thing that’s tormenting you?” If The Entity turned you on, good news. Watch this. I mean, the title itself is a spoiler.
Book U Can Ask ???s (2026): Directed by Casimir Nozkowski, this is the story of Mikey (Maura Madden), who is just trying to enjoy getting high. The peace is shattered when they find a ghost in the kitchen—a spectral figure with “bloody teeth”—casually all the KEA dinnerware. Turns out, the spirit is a Victorian-era casualty looking to settle a 150-year-old grudge against the descendants of his murderer. The only snag? A corporation bought the building in the ’80s, and the original bloodline is long gone. Mikey, showing a level of empathy (and lethargy) rarely seen in supernatural cinema, decides to help. Using nothing but an internet search and a bit of modern “know-how,” they turn the search for vengeance into a quest for closure. It’s a weirdly wholesome, occasionally hilarious look at what happens when the past clashes with the digital present. Loved this.
The Border at Tolstoi (2025): Directed by Bob Kotyk, this has a border guard working the night shift at the Tolstoi crossing. It’s a thankless job in the middle of nowhere. Then a mysterious traveler arrives, carrying a device that looks more like a prop from a 1970s Canadian sci-fi serial than any real-world weaponry. When the guard tries to inspect it, the device malfunctions—or perhaps it works exactly as intended—and blasts her with an energy pulse that effectively unmoors her consciousness. From there, the film becomes a disorienting, surreal experience. It’s essentially a body snatcher movie where the only victim is the protagonist herself, struggling to maintain her sanity while her own biology starts to glitch in increasingly gruesome ways.
Breeder (2026): Directed by Sapphire Sandalo, Breeder is a sharp, jagged piece about the weight of expectations and the literal manifestations of internal fears, all centered on a mythological entity that is as terrifying as it is bizarre. The film follows a woman who is currently on the fence about motherhood. It’s a classic, grounded setup. That is what it was, until the folklore starts bleeding into reality. She finds herself stalked within the supposed safety of her own home by a demonic horseman, an entity pulled straight from the dark corners of Filipino myth. Sandalo masterfully keeps the action tight, focusing on the claustrophobia of the home. When the creature finally makes its appearance, it’s not some CGI blur, but a hulking, visceral presence that feels like it’s actually occupying the space with her.
Flame Out (2025): Directed by Emily Grace Goldwyn, Flame Out is a sharp, acidic comedy of manners that feels less like a traditional film and more like a collective panic attack. If you’ve ever had a night spiral out of control because you simply couldn’t say no, this one’s going to hit a little too close to home. I mean, I feel seen. Anyway, Grace is the kind of serial people-pleaser who would apologize to a door that she bumped into. In an attempt to be everything to everyone, she manages to catastrophically double-book her entire evening. The result? A series of misunderstandings that lead to her accidentally buying out an entire Diptyque candle party—spending an absurd amount of money on overpriced wax—while simultaneously nuking a long-term friendship. I’d like this to be full-length, but it would give me so much trauma.
Hairy Times Of Harry Webster (2026): Directed by Murda Hill, Hairy Times of Harry Webster is a bizarre, hilarious and surprisingly poignant addition to the mockumentary subgenre. It tracks the meteoric rise, the crushing fall and the inevitable “where are they now?” comeback of Harry Webster. Oh yeah, he’s the most famous spider puppet in Hollywood history. Yes, you read that right. We start in the golden age of puppetry, where Harry Webster was the toast of the town. He was a velvet-coated, multi-limbed icon who starred in high-concept creature features that redefined 1950s cinema. The film covers the scandal, the substance abuse (mostly involving high-grade spider silk and vintage hairspray) and the eventual disappearance into total obscurity. Weird and perfect.
Xolo (2025): Directed by Matthew Serrano, Xolo is simple, intimate and gut-wrenching. Skippy, a small Xoloitzcuintli, wakes up in the middle of the night, driven by hunger. His search for snacks quickly turns into a desperate quest to find his owner, Maria. He discovers her lying motionless on the couch, clearly passed on. Before he can process the tragedy, the front door swings open to reveal Xolotl—the Aztec god of death—arriving to claim her soul. What follows is an unconventional standoff. Instead of attacking, Skippy uses his canine intuition to sense the god’s purpose. The dog embarks on a tour of the home, leading the god through the house and showing him the small, mundane and loving moments that defined Maria’s life. It’s a surreal, meditative look at death, where the monster is actually a divine bureaucrat and the hero is a tiny, devoted dog trying to prove that a life is worth more than just its end. Thanks, Matthew, you made the movie that made me cry the most at Chattanooga Film Festival. I was a mess at the end of this.
Total Party Kill (2026): Directed by Alan Sanchez, Total Party Kill is the kind of high-concept, table-top-inspired mayhem that demands to be watched with a rowdy crowd. A tight-knit, all-female squad of tabletop veterans is deep into a weekend-long campaign. The trouble begins when they unbox a new set of miniatures, including one suspiciously intricate piece that seems to have a personality of its own. As they roll for initiative, it becomes clear that a demonic presence has hitched a ride from the abyss into their living room. As the characters in their game sustain in-game injuries, the players begin to feel the physical toll, turning their comfortable apartment into a deadly trap. It’s a creative way to leverage the game’s logic to heighten the terror, making every dice roll feel like a sentence. I loved this!
Kaiju Kid (2024): Directed by Rusteen Honardoost, Kaiju Kid is an eight-minute explosion of pure, unadulterated passion for the genre. If you’ve ever been the kid who spent more time stomping around your bedroom pretending to be a giant monster than doing your homework, this short film is going to hit you right in the nostalgia. It sure did for me. The setup is as classic as smashing Tokyo. A young boy, completely obsessed with giant monster culture, takes playtime a little too far by trashing his sister’s dollhouse. It’s a relatable bit of sibling friction that quickly spirals out of control. When the sister decides to exact her revenge, the boy retreats to the safety of his closet, where his imagination takes over. What follows is a brilliant hybrid of live-action and stop-motion. The kid’s dreamscape transforms him into his favorite monster, leading to an all-out rampage of miniature proportions. This is a ton of fun.
Legend of Sun Knight (2025): Directed by the duo of Samuel Billings and Landon Nuzum Clark, Legend of Sun Knight is the tale of a wandering knight. When he makes it to the Moon Lord’s domain, he finds shadow, oppression and a kingdom of peasants who have seemingly lost their collective will to fight. What follows is an underdog uprising. The knight quickly realizes that he can’t take down the Moon Lord alone, so he begins the slow, arduous process of rallying the oppressed villagers. Really fun animation!
Monster Medicine (2025): Director Veronica Felicity Johnson delivers a high-energy, darkly humorous take on supernatural medicine with Monster Medicine. This eleven-minute short feels like the pilot. Imagine ER set in East L.A., but instead of heart attacks and accident victims, the triage unit deals with zombies and vampires. The story drops us straight into the chaos of a busy emergency room where Dr. Hunter (Brittany Belt) is barely keeping her head above water. Things go from standard emergency to nightmare shift when a patient named Luna (Andi Norris) arrives exhibiting symptoms of a violent werewolf transformation. While Dr. Hunter tries to balance her medical oath with the insanity unfolding before her, her cynical, seen-it-all colleague, Dr. Clay (Eric Toms), is ready to wash his hands of the whole mess. The situation escalates until the hospital’s top-secret Monster Medicine unit is paged. In come the specialists: a vampire doctor and a zombie physician who treat supernatural ailments with the kind of casual professionalism usually reserved for stitching up a papercut. I want more of this!
M.R.I. (or, Michael Returns Indefinitely) (2025): Directed by John F. Beach, M.R.I. (or Michael Returns Indefinitely), is a cold, clinical and deeply paranoid descent into the kind of healthcare bureaucracy that makes you want to cancel your insurance. Michael has finally reached his breaking point with the labyrinthine inefficiencies of the modern medical industry. After his latest appointment, he does the unthinkable: he openly questions his doctor’s motives. It’s a moment of human defiance that should be unremarkable, but in this film, it’s a death sentence. Michael soon realizes he hasn’t just offended a physician. He’s gone up against the people who run the world. As someone who works in the field, this was almost too real.
Seppuku in the Park (2026): Directed by Nikko Wisner, this has a protagonist who has spent a decade as the face of a ubiquitous insurance mascot. He’s a household name, but he’s also a professional ghost. Nobody knows his real face, and nobody cares. Driven by a volatile mix of ego and existential dread, he decides that to become a real actor, he needs to destroy his public persona. He retreats to an isolated, wind-swept park to essentially purge himself of his mascot identity, but his aspirations manifest as hallucinations. The title isn’t just a metaphor; it’s a mission statement.
Unstrung (2025): Directed by Jerold Wallace, this follows a meticulous, solitary toy maker who prides herself on the ability to breathe life into broken relics. When a high-paying client drops off a battered, antique puppet for an urgent restoration, the toy maker rushes to get it done. However, it all ends up with human puppets, a ton of gore and some really go for it cinematography. Really wild!
Silverbacks (2026): I loved this as much as I hate soccer, which is a lot. Amazingly directed, great actors and some hilarious dialogue. I want an entire series. Directed by Dave Willis—a name that should be familiar to anyone who has spent their late nights glued to Adult Swim—Silverbacks is a sharp, hilarious thirty-minute look at the indignities of middle age. If you’ve ever reached for a bottle of ibuprofen after a weekend hobby, this one is going to feel like a documentary. I mean, I sure have. The premise is deceptively simple: a group of men decides that the best way to reclaim their youth is to form a soccer team. It’s not about winning trophies or glory; it’s about the primal, desperate struggle to navigate the pitch without throwing a hip out or pulling a hamstring. Look for Henry Zebrowski, Steve Coulter, Cooper Andrews and Rory Scovel as members of the crew.
You can watch this either in-person or virtually at the Chattanooga Film Festival. For more info, visit the official site.
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