I love this movie. When I first saw Lords of Salem, I hated it, like, really hated it. I talked a lot of shit. But then… months went by. And it kept popping into my head. Eventually, I gave it another try, and something shifted. I liked it. Then I watched it again. And again. Until it became my second-most-watched film on Letterboxd. The opening scene might be the most witch-drenched moment of the entire marathon: a coven stripped bare, dancing around flames in the wilderness. This imagery isn’t new, but here it doesn’t feel cliché. It’s raw and ritualistic, setting the tone for the slow descent that follows. Yes, Lords of Salem is more vibes than substance, but the story is there, even if it’s not entirely rewarding on first watch. Let the imagery, the soundscape, and that dreamy New England autumn vibe pull you in.

Heidi (Sherri Moon Zombie), a recovering addict and late-night radio DJ in Salem, Massachusetts, receives a mysterious record at the station. When she plays it on air, the strange, droning music seems to awaken something ancient. Soon, she begins experiencing terrifying visions and hallucinations, drawn deeper into a nightmare tied to Salem’s witchcraft history and a coven determined to reclaim their power.

The use of red light throughout the film is one of my favorite choices; it floods the screen in moments when Heidi is at her most vulnerable, disoriented, or entranced. It evokes the devil, yes, but also blood, lust, sacrifice, fire, and transformation. It’s both danger and rebirth. Every time it appears, it signals that she’s slipping further into something ancient and irreversible. Some of those scenes are downright frightening in the best way. Meg Foster is absolutely terrifying. Her eyes are piercing, almost otherworldly, and she gives everything to this role. She’s commanding, guttural, ancient. I still get chills thinking about her presence. This is also, I believe, Sherri Moon Zombie’s strongest performance. Maybe because it’s her quietest. Her character feels fragile and dreamlike, and watching her spiral deeper into this surreal, inherited nightmare is deeply unsettling. And while we know witchcraft isn’t just for women, I love how this film fully embraces a feminist vision of it. This is a story of women wronged, erased, and rewritten—gathering power not to serve a dark master, but to reclaim something stolen. It’s rage, legacy, trauma, and ecstasy centered entirely in female experience.

I also have to shout out Jeff Daniel Phillips (playing Whitey, Heidi’s co-worker and friend). Another one of Rob Zombie’s frequent collaborators, he gives such an understated, grounded performance here. You feel the depth of his care for Heidi, especially in the quieter scenes. And that sequence of her walking her dog to the church? Her coat, the crunchy leaves, the quaint old building…then the evil creeps in. It’s one of the most memorable scenes in the whole film. A perfect blend of cozy and cursed. Her apartment is an entire aesthetic. The music is perfection. What else can you expect from a musician/director? There’s a goat. A creepy priest. A bizarre representation of the devil. And a final act that feels like Jodorowsky showed up and blessed the chaos himself. One of the most fun, haunting, unsettling rides you’ll take. Also, if a coven secretly owned my building, I think I’d be into it.