Send us a text

A quiet eulogy, a miniature world built to hold chaos, and a red-lit treehouse that won’t stop glowing—Hereditary gets under the skin by treating horror like an inheritance. We walk through the film’s most haunting turns, starting with the party sequence that rewires the story and the dreadful silence that follows. From there, we trace how grief becomes an opening: Annie’s need for control, Charlie’s private rituals, and Joan’s perfectly timed “kindness” converge in a seance that changes what everyone in the house believes is possible.

We look closely at how the movie uses simple, repeatable signals to build unease: the cluck, the blue shimmer of presence, the recurring symbol on a necklace and a lamppost. Peter’s spiral carries the weight, with a classroom reflection that sneers back and a body that moves like it’s being borrowed. In the attic, the clues finally speak: photo albums, desecration, candles, and names that tie the family to something older than grief. Fire becomes a contract, a sketchbook binds pain to flesh, and one wrong assumption ends with a father consumed in an instant.

The finale doesn’t chase catharsis; it crowns a plan. The treehouse gathers the faithful, the headless pay tribute, and Joan’s soft sermon reframes every earlier scene. Charlie was a vessel. A male host was required. Peter arrives emptied and ready. We unpack why that ending divides viewers, how it echoes Rosemary’s Baby and The Witch, and why the film works best when you read it as a story of trauma exploited by a patient cult. If you love horror that rewards attention—family dynamics, slow-burn dread, and the mechanics of possession—you’ll find plenty to chew on here.

Enjoyed the breakdown? Subscribe, drop us some stars, and share your take on the ending—we’ll read favorites on the next show.

If this podcast has entertained, unsettled, or mildly ruined your evening, you can support us at ASOSD.buzzsprout.com. We appreciate it more than you know.

Damo & Lily :)

Support the show

Send us a text

Summary

In this episode, Damo and Lily shake off the New Year cobwebs before diving headfirst into the glorious, gooey chaos of Return of the Living Dead. Expect stupid decisions (lots of them), punks versus zombies, and a film that somehow manages to be hilarious, horrifying, and weirdly philosophical all at once.

Along the way, they pick apart the characters’ baffling choices, celebrate the film’s smart-mouthed, pain-feeling zombies, and get stuck into the dark humour that makes everything hit harder. There’s chat about Trash, nudity, gender, and what it means when a horror film is both exploitative and oddly self-aware. Naturally, Tina’s terrible idea to go looking for Freddie in the middle of a zombie outbreak gets the scrutiny it deserves.

They also revel in the practical effects, the military’s spectacularly unhelpful solution to the problem, and why this film still feels punk as hell decades later. Brains, bad calls, nuclear fallout, and the enduring question at the heart of all great horror — why does everyone keep making the worst possible choice?

Links & Stuff

Find us over on Transistor where we have the main site and more information: https://aseriesofstupid.transistor.fm

The new movie is being made!
https://www.imdb.com/title/tt31350873/

If this podcast has entertained, unsettled, or mildly ruined your evening, you can support us at ASOSD.buzzsprout.com. We appreciate it more than you know.

Damo & Lily :)

Support the show

Send us a text

The scariest mask isn’t the one with horns. It’s the one that feels possible.

We dive into The Black Phone and its sequel to test a simple claim: horror hits hardest when it stays close to the ground. The first film is a masterclass in tight dread—school, home, a basement—and a villain whose calm menace lingers long after the credits. A disconnected phone that won’t stop ringing, a boy learning to fight back, and Gwen’s visions that blur trauma and second sight: this is horror that respects our nerves.

Then we pivot to Black Phone 2, a sequel with big ideas and bigger moves. The early promise is there—snowbound landscapes, eerie dream-logic, and threads of the Grabber’s past flickering through ghostly footage—but the tone drifts. Instead of claustrophobic terror, we get an ice-rink showdown and lore that over-explains while undercutting risk. When almost no one dies, danger starts to feel optional. We talk about why spectacle rarely replaces fear, and how a single choice—shifting from human evil to supernatural theatre—changes everything.

Along the way we compare notes with Sinister, call out script choices that dull sharp edges, and map the moments that still deliver genuine unease. We also rank the “stupidity index” for both films, share the blunders that pulled us out of the story, and yes, imagine how each of us would meet our end in both universes. If you care about what makes horror stick—pacing, performance, plausibility, and the power of suggestion—this one’s for you.

Enjoy the breakdown? Follow the show, share it with a horror-loving friend, and leave a review. Your messages help us pick the next film—and your best “how I’d die in a horror” ideas might make the show.

Join Lily and Damien as they dive into the world of horror films with humour, insight, and caffeine. From cult classics to guilty pleasures, they prove there’s no such thing as a bad horror movie.

If this podcast has entertained, unsettled, or mildly ruined your evening, you can support us at ASOSD.buzzsprout.com. We appreciate it more than you know.

Damo & Lily :)

Support the show

Send us a text

A rickety bridge, a locked cabin, and a book bound in skin—what could go wrong? We kick off our horror series by putting The Evil Dead under the brightest, blood-splattered microscope, asking a simple question that unlocks everything: why do stupid choices make scary movies so satisfying? From the clumsy charm of our show’s naming saga to a crash course in Video Nasty history, we set the stage for a lively, no-fluff breakdown of Raimi’s cult classic.

We trace the dominoes of doom with forensic glee: driving over a bridge that should end the trip, splitting up to explore, descending into the cellar alone, spinning the tapes, believing the demon’s “I’m better now,” and not finishing the job. Along the way we dig into Raimi’s grammar of dread—low-budget ingenuity, wild POV shots, fog-laced frames, and those unforgettable practical effects. Blood filling sockets and bulbs, stop-motion decay that’s both dated and delicious, and Foley work that makes the cabin feel possessed; this is the tactile horror modern CG can’t quite fake. We also unpack the uneasy legacy of the forest assault scene, the censorship that followed, and how the film’s audacity still provokes.

Character-wise, we argue about Ash as a “final boy” who barely earns it here, and how the genre’s clichés work like stage cues: we need the bad decision to fuel suspense and give us permission to shout at the screen. Our Stupidity Index rates Evil Dead’s decision-making a three out of ten, and that low score is exactly why the film endures—horror needs transgression to breathe. If they all chose wisely, there’d be no film, no fear, no fun.

Subscribe for more sharp, funny, and thoughtful dives into horror’s best worst choices. If you enjoyed the episode, share it with a friend and leave a quick review—it helps more genre nerds find us. What infamous bad decision should we tackle next?

Join Lily and Damien as they dive into the world of horror films with humour, insight, and caffeine. From cult classics to guilty pleasures, they prove there’s no such thing as a bad horror movie.

Will add social links here as they happen!

If this podcast has entertained, unsettled, or mildly ruined your evening, you can support us at ASOSD.buzzsprout.com. We appreciate it more than you know.

Damo & Lily :)

Support the show