Hellhole

Hellhole (or, more poetically, Last Supper) is what happens when someone says, “What if we did a gritty, atmospheric demon movie in a creepy Polish monastery?” and then sticks the landing on vibes but whiffs almost everything else. It’s moody as hell, yes. It’s also the cinematic equivalent of a really elaborate black metal album cover stapled onto a plot that feels like it was outlined on a bar napkin at 3 a.m.

On paper, this sounds fantastic: 1987, rural Poland, a secretive monastery doubling as an exorcism sanatorium, a cop disguised as a priest, missing women, culty clergy, and a literal well to hell. You should walk away from that premise shaken, disturbed, and maybe a little wary of wells. Instead, you walk away thinking, “That was a lot of build-up for a finale that plays like a Hellraiser knockoff with performance issues.”

Father Marek: The World’s Least Subtle Undercover Cop

Our protagonist, Marek, arrives at the monastery with the subtlety of a man who’s never heard the words “deep cover” in his life. He’s allegedly a priest, but he moves like a cop in a costume rental. He checks in, unpacks his room, and immediately pulls out a gun, flashlight, and contraband like he’s auditioning for a Polish True Detective spin-off.

He also has a big, distinctive scar on his chest, the same one we saw on the doomed baby in the prologue. You’d think this would make him at least mildly suspicious to a bunch of priests obsessed with prophecies, eclipses, and “chosen ones.” But no. They look at him, shrug, and go, “Yes, this guy seems normal. Let’s feed him mystery meat and invite him to our obviously fake exorcisms.”

Marek, for his part, spends much of the movie wandering around the corridors looking grim and sweaty, occasionally having hallucinations and doing some light grave-robbing. As an investigator, he exists mostly to look alarmed as the monastery practically screams “We’re evil!” at him from every candlelit corner.

The Exorcism Sanatorium: Spirit Halloween, But Make It Sacrilegious

The exorcism scenes are, admittedly, kind of fun. The first one has all the classic bells and whistles: writhing patient, booming Latin, shaking bed, wind, a cross spontaneously catching fire. It looks impressive—for about thirty seconds. Later, Marek discovers the whole thing is staged: props, wires, cheap tricks to scam the Vatican for money, all masterminded by Prior Andrzej.

So this place is basically a long con: fake exorcisms, real money, and missing women. It’s like a Catholic MLM.

That could have been a sharp, satirical angle—corrupt clergy literally faking miracles while hiding much darker secrets—but the film doesn’t do much with it. It’s treated as just one more creepy detail on the big “These guys SUCK” list, right under “feed guests human stew” and “worship Satan but with a liturgical schedule.”

The Priests: Half Cult, Half Clowns

The clergy here are a mix of terrifying and ridiculous. Prior Andrzej, with his dead-eyed calm and greasy charisma, is basically running a demonic startup: goal-oriented, ritual-focused, big dreams about “new world order,” low concern for employee retention.

Then there’s Piotr, the nervous vice Prior who initially seems like Marek’s secret ally. He warns him, whispers about punishments, spills the beans on the fake exorcisms… and then sells him out. It’s like someone decided the movie didn’t have enough betrayal and just spun a wheel to pick who would flip.

The priests’ big plan? They believe Marek is the prophesied “chosen one,” born during an eclipse, destined to become the Devil’s avatar once certain conditions are met:

• Flesh of seven sinners? Check.

• Blood of an innocent? On the menu.

• Construct monastery over hell portal? Already done.

• Basic competence? Tragically absent.

They drag Marek around like a sacrificial veal calf while over-explaining their theology: God and the Devil ruling side by side, mankind being terrible, time for Hell on Earth, etc. It’s all very “freshman philosophy major discovers Nietzsche” but with more cassocks.

Cannibalism, But Make It Tedious

One of the film’s “big horror reveals” is that the mystery meat Marek can’t stomach is—surprise!—the women who went missing after their “exorcisms.” Their bodies hang in a frozen chamber, their organs ending up as monastery dinner. This should be stomach-turning. Instead, it lands like, “Ah, yes, of course, the human stew. We were due.”

The discovery scene has all the elements: the freezer, the hanging bodies, the dawning horror. Yet it somehow feels weirdly flat. Maybe because by that point, the film has spent so much time telegraphing “this place is a hellhole” that your only real reaction is, “Well, obviously they’re eating people. Have you seen the cook?”

The Ritual: Exposition, Exsanguination, No Tension

By the time the priests are ready to complete their big ritual, Marek is hog-tied, stabbed, force-fed blood, and dumped down the hell well like sacrificial garbage. Up top, they pat themselves on the back for a job well done, only to realize… nothing’s happening.

For a glorious five seconds, there’s a flicker of dark comedy: these idiots spent decades constructing this elaborate satanic pyramid scheme, and the Devil just left them on read. It’s the best gag in the movie, and it’s almost certainly unintentional.

But then, of course, Hell does boot up—just with a time delay. Marek comes back demonized, floats the priests into midair crucifixion poses, and starts rearranging the natural world like he’s redecorating. Trees bloom, dead things revive, sky tears open. It’s metal as hell… and also weirdly unsatisfying, because at this point the film has fully abandoned psychological horror in favor of “Look, apocalypse!” without earning the shift.

Atmosphere: 10/10. Plot: Left the Building.

To be fair, Hellhole looks great. The monastery is oppressive and grimy, the lighting is beautiful in that “I can smell the mildew” sort of way, and the 1987 setting gives it a nice layer of analog gloom. The director clearly knows how to compose a shot and create a mood.

If mood were enough to carry a movie, this would be a minor classic. But atmosphere without substance eventually just feels like being stuck in a very stylish waiting room. The pacing is slack, the characters are undercooked (unlike the mystery meat), and the story leans so hard on exposition that by the time the actual hell breaks loose, you’re weirdly numb.

It doesn’t help that the film takes its own mythology so seriously that it forgets to be scary. There are some creepy moments—whispers, gurgling wardrobes, that opening baby scene—but they’re islands in a sea of priests explaining their evil business plan to Marek while he bleeds artfully.

Demon Marek and the World’s Worst Promotion

The ending suggests that Marek, now possessed, is about to usher in Hell on Earth. Trees blooming, dead rising, sky cracking open—lovely. But here’s the problem: we’ve spent the entire film watching these priests be utterly incompetent at literally everything. So the idea that this operation successfully summoned the Antichrist feels less ominous and more like a clerical error in Hell’s HR department.

You’re left thinking less “oh no, the end is nigh” and more “someone’s getting fired in the Pit for greenlighting this branch.”

Final Verdict: Gorgeous Hell, Half-Baked Horror

Hellhole wants to be a slow-burn, atmospheric, theologically loaded horror film about faith, corruption, and inevitable damnation. What it actually is, for long stretches, is a beautifully shot slog sprinkled with occasional moments of cannibalism and Latin.

If you’re into moody monasteries, Eastern European gloom, and priests behaving badly, it’s worth a morbid curiosity watch—with the understanding that you’re here for vibes, not for tight storytelling or satisfying scares.

Otherwise, you might find yourself sympathizing with that baby in the opening scene: staring up at the church, vaguely aware something awful is about to happen, wondering why no one had the sense to pull the plug earlier.