Editorials
‘The Borderlands’ – Unearthing a Found Footage Hidden Gem
Before unleashing a cruel fate upon its characters — one of the worst in recent horror memory — The Borderlands leads the audience down a different path, insensibly alluding to what all lies ahead. The plot breadcrumbs of Elliot Goldner’s 2013 film are only more discernible after the fact. Until that momentous reveal, this plays out as a standard story of believers and nonbelievers investigating the religious unknown and finding more than they ever thought possible. What these unfortunate souls unearth is deeply disturbing.
Renamed Final Prayer in some parts, this British film has grown steadily in renown despite its small beginnings. Recently, Guillermo del Toro put The Borderlands on more radars; the popular filmmaker deemed it an “unknown gem.” Even before obtaining such a great endorsement, Goldner’s first feature (his only one to date) was applauded for its approach to first-person and folk-horror storytelling. More high praise: The Borderlands has been favorably compared to The Wicker Man.
Demonic possessions and exorcisms tend to go hand in hand when watching religious horror. Refreshingly, The Borderlands evades those overused elements even as the film’s backdrop predominantly features a church. Nevertheless, uninitiated viewers will suspect supernatural goings-on are in store after witnessing the prologue; a shared video clip shows the aftermath of an incident at a Brazilian shrine. Already in those first few seconds, Goldner is adept at misdirection, although the fruit of his labor is still a bit of a ways off. There are the standard formalities of these kinds of films to deal with first. Namely the introduction of the cameraperson, the purpose of visual documentation, and, of course, the mission. What brings these characters to the Devon countryside and why must their business be recorded?

Pictured: In The Borderlands, Deacon (Gordon Kennedy) prays after Father Crellick’s (Luke Neal) death.
As they say, a leap of faith can lead to miracles. For Brother Deacon (Gordon Kennedy), however, miracles have become the bane of his existence. He has lost his way ever since Brazil. Sent by the Vatican, the same man spotted in the film’s vague intro is now in charge of yet another religious inquisition: confirming the veracity of a supposed miracle inside a rural church. Joining Deacon are an agnostic tech expert, Gray Parker (Robin Hill), and the rather inflexible Father Mark Amidon (Aidan McArdle). Footage of objects mysteriously moving during a christening is supported by local priest Father Crellick (Luke Neal), but Deacon and his team are, needless to say, skeptical.
Compensating for an implausible situation is the film’s grounded setup. And at the core of this out-there story are these two mismatched characters who, individually, feel like they were plucked out of real life. Intense and weary Deacon would probably never find himself in long conversation with layman Gray, a babbling goofball, had they not been assigned to work together. That being said, there is a terrific amount of chemistry between these men with opposite life experiences. Their convincing on-screen fellowship, not to mention an ability to meet one another halfway, sells everything. Especially the film’s outcome.
Something The Borderlands implements early on — and other found-footage auteurs should take note of — is assigning cameras to more than one character. This allows for a variety of angles and views, much like in a traditionally shot production, without losing the immediacy and intimacy of the first-hand perspective. The director also does not have to resort to inorganic tactics to ensure every moment is captured on video. Another general gripe with the found-footage format is the valid question of why characters never drop their recording devices when in peril, or why they always happen to have a cam available when anything weird occurs. Here the simple fix of wearable cameras makes a world of difference. Particularly once it comes time for the big reveal at the end. Staying so fixed and unflinching on the characters’ agony is more believable now.

Pictured: Deacon (Gordon Kennedy) and Gray (Robin Hill) crawl toward their cruel fate in The Borderlands.
The horror genre’s long history of questioning, challenging and corrupting people’s faith has certainly yielded a wealth of shocks over the years. However, The Borderlands stands alone in the realm of religious horror, due in large part to its uniquely dreadful conclusion. In lieu of a conventional finisher, Goldner pulls the rug out from under everyone and delivers a tremendous ending. The kind that stays with audiences for years to come. What goes down in that final act is as impossible to unlearn and unsee as it is brilliant. The film, in hindsight, portends Deacon and Gray’s fate, but it did so with whispers.
The Borderlands dangles significant clues in front of the audience without them realizing it. The setting’s undeniable sense of unease acts as a smokescreen of sorts; Goldner persuasively establishes how the imminent danger goes far beyond the church grounds, all while throwing everyone off the scent of the real evil here. From local youths setting a live sheep on fire to the sudden suicide of a supporting character, the story has these startling moments that undermine its overall slow-burn quality. And just as the film starts to feel at odds with itself, those pieces finally fall in place and create a bigger picture. Understanding how, though, requires going back and picking up on the considerable indicators (both visual and verbal) from earlier. This scrutiny only makes future rewatches more satisfying.
If The Borderlands aimed to harm viewers on an emotional level, it succeeded with flying colors. Elliot Goldner set up what looked to be a traditional tale of religious horror, only to then lead unsuspecting audiences elsewhere. He took them down a dark passageway and left them trapped with just their raw feelings after witnessing such a horrific sight. This film is indeed recognized for its devastating closing minutes, yet the outstanding storytelling before that point, along with impressive performances from the two lead actors, should not be overlooked.
Since its original release, The Borderlands has gotten lost in the horror shuffle and gone unnoticed by the masses. Once experienced, however, the film becomes an instant reward for found-footage enthusiasts; the ones who comb through the divisive subgenre’s catalogue in search of that one elusive and worthwhile treasure.
The Borderlands is now available on a new limited edition Blu-ray from Second Sight Films.
Horrors Elsewhere is a recurring column that spotlights a variety of movies from all around the globe, particularly those not from the United States. Fears may not be universal, but one thing is for sure — a scream is understood, always and everywhere.

Pictured: Poster for The Borderlands.
Editorials
Steven Spielberg Just Directed the Scariest Scene of His Career in ‘Disclosure Day’
Steven Spielberg has always been conversant in the cinematic language of the horror genre, despite relatively few credits in the genre. His contributions as a writer and producer on things like Poltergeist are legendary, and films like Duel and Jaws certainly wield the horror genre in remarkable, often chilling ways. He may not be a horror filmmaker, but he knows when he needs to scare us, and he has the tools to make that happen.
I didn’t go into Disclosure Day, Spielberg’s alien epic, expecting outright horror, and indeed the film leans much more into thrilling than frightening. This is not a horror film, but for a few minutes in the middle, much to my surprise, it became one.
Spielberg has filmed more than his fair share of scary scenes over the years, but with Disclosure Day, he directed a new contender for the scariest scene of his entire career.
SPOILERS AHEAD for Disclosure Day!

Josh O’Connor in DISCLOSURE DAY, directed by Steven Spielberg.
Among the various alien secrets laced throughout Disclosure Day are a trio of palm-sized rods, the color of pencil graphite. These rods, originating from another planet, can be used for a number of things, but for the purposes of this scene, the most important is “diving,” gripping the rod in one bare hand and using its power to “dive” into the mind of another person.
The person holding the rod in this scene is Noah Scanlon (Colin Firth), head of shadowy cybersecurity firm Wordex, who is hellbent on keeping human knowledge of extraterrestrials secret from the general public. Scanlon’s trying to find whistleblower Daniel Kellner (Josh O’Connor), who’s got all of those alien secrets tucked in a backpack while he’s on the run, and while Daniel’s more experienced mind is protected from diving, his girlfriend Jane’s (Eve Hewson) is not. So, monitored by medical personnel at Wordex headquarters (diving is dangerous), Scanlon pushes his way into Jane’s mind to find the location of Daniel’s safe house.
A telepathic invasion is scary enough on its own, but Spielberg doesn’t stop there. When Scanlon dives into Eve’s mind, he appears to her to be sitting across the kitchen table, like he’s in the room. Her bright blue eyes turn Scanlon’s dark brown, and she loses much of her control over her own body, not to mention her mind. Moments before, Daniel finally shared with her the secrets in his backpack, so Jane is shocked, conflicted, deeply vulnerable when Scanlon slips inside her head. This is not just telepathy. This is possession.
Spielberg underscores this not just through the visual language of the scene, as Jane breaks out in a sweat and struggles to sit upright as Scanlon invades her mind, but through Jane’s background. As she revealed to Daniel earlier in the film, Jane is a former novitiate nun who left her convent when she began to question her calling. She still believes firmly in God and, more importantly, believes that perhaps proof of alien life should be kept secret from the public because, in her eyes, it would upset the entire balance of faith in the world. God is a defining factor for humankind, Jane argues, and showing humanity proof of creatures from the stars would undercut that in dangerous ways.

This context, combined with the crucifix necklace Jane’s holding in her hand at the time of the dive, makes this scene the closest thing Spielberg will ever shoot to something out of The Exorcist. It’s not just a battle of wills, but a battle of faith. As an amoral technocrat worms his way into her memories, her beliefs, her faith, Jane turns the crucifix into a weapon, squeezing it until her hand bleeds when she discovers that a pain response can momentarily push Scanlon out of her head.
Of course, when you put a crucifix and a bloody hand together, it conjures images of stigmata. Screenwriter David Koepp pushes the allusion further by having Scanlon quote Christ on the cross to Jane by way of convincing her that she must be the one to stop Daniel by any means necessary.
It’s easy to see why this is scary, right?
On a very basic level, you have a powerful, wealthy man subduing and assaulting an innocent young woman, which is frightening enough. Then, the layers of the scene kick in. Scanlon doesn’t just assault Jane, but possesses her, seizes her memories, her knowledge, and finally her own free will, all while Jane literally clings to her faith in an effort to fight back. Disclosure Day is, among other things, a story about who has a right to the truth, and Scanlon believes that he should be the arbiter of that truth. Not just the truth as he sees it, but the truth as Jane sees it as well. If they don’t see eye to eye, he’ll make her.
But the possession, as it turns out, cuts both ways. Using the rod to dive is, for a normal human being, an intensely strenuous process. Scanlon admits that previous attempts almost killed him, and for some members of his time, so much as touching the rod results in a near-death experience. Even accessing an unprepared mind like Jane’s takes a lot of Scanlon, and when she kicks him out by squeezing the crucifix – again, so much meaning embedded in the details here – his team holds him back and tries to offer medical intervention. But Scanlon persists, pushing them away, and keeps diving back in.
This means that Jane can’t escape him because he just won’t stop pushing back through her defenses, but it also means that each time Scanlon enters her mind, and thus the safe house, he looks more monstrous. By the end, through a combination of lighting and makeup, Firth barely looks human, conjuring up images of the possessed Father Karras at the end of The Exorcist.

Colin Firth (center, standing) in DISCLOSURE DAY, directed by Steven Spielberg.
On a pure, visceral craft level, all of this is quite frightening, but the real trick to making this scene into Spielberg’s most terrifying lies in the more existential horror surrounding all of this. Disclosure Day is a film about the battle for the truth over extraterrestrials, but it’s also about a fight against an impossibly powerful surveillance state, the devaluing of human and alien lives in favor of some nebulous collection of assets, and the value of the individual in a world that increasingly lumps people into demographic boxes and writes them off.
In this scene, the surveillance state becomes supernatural, a human life is worth less than a piece of information, and an extragovernmental technocrat would rather sacrifice his own humanity than see reason. In 2026, few things could be more terrifying than that. Spielberg knows this and wields it mightily, proving once again that, while he’s not a strictly horror filmmaker, he can direct horror with the best of them.
Disclosure Day is in theaters now.

Eve Hewson (second from left) in DISCLOSURE DAY, directed by Steven Spielberg.
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