Ana Asensio, director of the GEP award winning MOST BEAUTIFUL ISLAND (and frequent TALES FROM BEYOND THE PALE thespian), returns to the director’s chair with her second feature GOAT GIRL which began its US release at Cinema Village 7/19 with Fessenden hosting the Q&A. Photos by Jimmy Ryan
Goat Girl (Spanish: La niña de la cabra)[1] is a 2025 coming-of-age drama film written and directed by Ana Asensio starring Alessandra González and Juncal Fernández.
The film premiered at the 28th Málaga Film Festival on 18 March 2025 ahead of its 11 April 2025 theatrical release in Spain by Avalon.
Picture this: The Earth is melting. The alarm bells have been sounded for ages, and nobody is doing anything. The general public wavers between shock and apathy, ultimately settling on profit motives and unending capital growth. Things are getting more and more atomized. You feel called to action, and yet you know you can only watch as shit hits the fan at increasingly high speeds. At a certain point, everything seems to be getting so depressing and solipsistic that you yearn for a real doomsday – a real last winter, if you will. This was Larry Fessenden’s vision in 2006, when he released his potential magnum opus in The Last Winter. How are things today?
Perhaps it’s better to begin discussions of The Last Winter with a brief mention about Wendigo, Fessenden’s earlier, more intimate creature-based horror. That film is closer to a chamber horror, with a minimal cast and fairly sparse narrative developments (the violence is scant and devastating), but it features a similar wintery setting and a nature-as-redemption plot device. The coded politics in that film are present, but are just that: present. In The Last Winter, they are bursting at the seams; it’s an embittered, desperate cry against the world for ravaging itself to dust. There is also, of course, a wendigo spirit, one which seems capable of great destruction but also great beauty. One wonders if, by the end of it, this is even consequential to humanity’s likely doom, or if we’re already getting ourselves there just fine on our own.
Neither the setup nor the political themes are especially radical, yet everything flows together so well that the closest cinematic relative of The Last Winter might be Carpenter’s The Thing, a similarly icy, totally brilliant movie that mines horror from the atomization of man. The Last Winter, like Carpenter’s film, is about a crew in the frozen tundra, this time in Alaska. Both films are microcosmic horrors of sorts — works about how things are obviously dire for their isolated protagonists and how much worse it will get if the outbreak extends beyond their small, deteriorating world.
James Hoffman (James Le Gros, who does phenomenal work) is an environmental consultant who hates his job: working as the patsy for an oil company. Hoffman is a world-weary scientist, someone who, even in his young age, has seen so much of nature obliterated that he feels torn between passionate defiance and quiet obedience. His angel on his shoulder is fellow scientist Elliot Jenkins (Jamie Herrold), who tries to invigorate him into defying oil company North, their employer. His devil is Ed Pollack (Ron Perlman, never better), the head of the local drilling operation, who needs Hoffman’s approval to allow North to commence drilling operations. Pollack’s rhetoric is convincing; he spits out words like “energy independence” as if they have any tangible meaning, and he is clearly peeved about the presence of any environmental loonies in his rugged operation. Things quickly go south when one of Pollack’s family friends, Maxwell (Zach Gilford), goes off the deep end before getting spirited away by some sort of tundra ghost.
The calamities begin to pile up, rescue and help seem a million miles away and there’s little the isolated base can do to save themselves. Fessenden intelligently never really frames his kills in this sequence as being entirely the result of his beloved wendigos; instead, there’s an element of plausible deniability when a character dies from seemingly natural causes or another is killed by a worker who has clearly lost her mind. It’s not until the final segment, where Hoffman and Pollack are at the end of their rope just outside an Inuit village, that Fessenden gives in and shows off his surprisingly well-CGI’d wendigo finale. Pollack’s demise is to be expected from a revenge-minded horror film, but Hoffman’s is some of the most tender in all of cinema; it feels closer to Mekas than anything resembling Carpenter.
The Last Winter is hardly the first horror film to structure its kills around justifiable revenge, but Fessenden treads a dangerous line in his application of that trope. Do the North employees (along with the environmental scientists) deserve death for their stochastic violence against nature? What about their violence against humans – the communities near the base, whose lives are being slowly uprooted due to climate change? The irony of the two (white) disheveled leads groveling before the nearest Native residents after all hell has broken loose will not be lost on astute viewers. Hoffman’s internal voiceovers do a great job at communicating directly what is already implied from the visual language: nature is fighting back against a dangerous parasite — us.
Like all Fessenden’s best films, there’s a sort of unspoken mourning here — mot necessarily for the deaths of the characters, many of which seem apathetic or even excited about the destruction of the world, but because the events don’t seem to change anything. This existentialism is fairly basic; the fact that it somehow works along with everything else the film is doing is a minor miracle. It’s such an overwhelmingly bleak (yet realistic) look at how things are, which can make it a tough sit. The question eventually becomes whether the audience is supposed to identify with the wendigo or with Hoffman. The answer, perhaps, is that it’s easier to identify with one of the workers who met their cruel fate before they realized just how bad things really are.
Fessenden stocks have not been exceptionally high at any point in film history, though they were likely never lower after The Last Winter, which was a colossal flop upon release. It’s not hard to see why: not since Mamet’s Spartan has a Hollywood release been so brutally black-pilled. What pleasures it offers do not depart much from Fessenden’s other, subtler material, and those works, despite their occasional brilliance, never caught on to the degree that they probably should have. This is normally the part where one mourns for the lost reception of the film in question and pleads for any potential readers to give it the old college try. In the case of The Last Winter, it may be more fitting to plead for environmental consciousness and activism instead, no matter how hopeless the prospects seem. If you do need a film to at least jump-start you into that headspace, it’s difficult to think of a more fitting one than this.
The best werewolf movies inspire the viewer to bark at the moon. Having said that, there are so many options in this genre that some films often get eclipsed by other high-profile counterparts. For example, most audience members know all too well about the influence of “Teen Wolf” and “An American Werewolf in London,” but how many remember the likes of “Wolf” or “The Cursed?” Maybe they might ring a bell to one or two people, but they’re howling good times in their own right and deserve more attention.
It’s time to rectify this and give the spotlight to the best werewolf movies nobody talks about anymore. In terms of selection criteria, the films chosen here all have positive scores on Rotten Tomatoes’ Tomatometer at the time of writing and rarely appear on best-of lists. Basically, they’re underrated gems of the genre.
BLACKOUT
Larry Fessenden should be a name familiar to lovers of indie horror. He possesses a highly impressive filmography as a writer, actor, director, and producer. In 2023, Fessenden wrote and directed “Blackout.”
So, what’s “Blackout” about? The protagonist in the story is artist Charley Barrett (Alex Hurt), who drinks heavily to the point of blacking out — much like the title of the film. However, Charley also has another problem: He suspects that he might be a werewolf and is murdering folks. There’s a sense of shame he feels when he wakes up every morning and comes to terms with what he’s doing to the townspeople of Talbot Falls. Thus, this becomes a tale about Charley grappling with his choices and inner turmoil.
“Blackout” wanders more on the drama side than straight-up horror, as it becomes a character study about Charley. This is deeper than ordinary werewolf movies, where a character needs to deal with their duality. Instead, this is Charley coming to terms with the fact that the werewolf is a part of him — not just an alter ego. It’s a fascinating approach to the werewolf concept, and the critics agreed too, as “Blackout” earned itself 75% on Rotten Tomatoes’ Tomatometer.
Writer Richard Newby beaming in from Ohio; Fessenden, Jordan Gass-Pooré, Rigo Garay and Sean Redlitz in NYC; Clint Jordan in LA.
From The Writer of MADGE, THE WORLD SPIDER, AND ONE LAST DRINK
Like any good bar story, this one began in a bar. But not just any bar. The Hamptons on King Ave, in Columbus, Ohio was the spot. Or rather, not the spot, but a spot, situated near the campus of The Ohio State University. My buddies and I would meet there on the patio some nights during our college years. We found ourselves on that same patio a few times after graduation, with plans to catch up, introduce new girlfriends, and search for some meaning to connect us and our uncertain futures as our lives created distance from each other.
The vibes of The Hamptons, which has since been closed down, were always off. Something sad radiated from that place, and no amount of loud music from the jukebox or cheering football fans could drown it out for me. It was a sobering place, and sober I remained, as observer instead of a partaker in my mates’ revelries. The basement, where the pool tables were, was almost always empty. It felt separate from the bar upstairs, but no more comforting. There was a bar counter down there too, but with no bartender and no drinks. On the wall hung a cheaply made pop art painting of a woman who looked like she could’ve Marilyn Monroe or Madonna, but so indistinct that she truly could’ve been anyone. And in the corner of that basement was a dance floor, made for no more than two people. In the middle of the floor was a small disco ball. In all the times I visited The Hamptons, I never saw anyone on that dance floor. But I always wondered, what if there had been someone? And so, Madge was born.
Though the memory of that place and the possibility of that lone dancer remained, it would be two years before some semblance of that story began to take shape during my MFA program at Adelphi University on Long Island. In fact, it was the title, “Madge, The World Spider, and One Last Drink,” that came to me first. Why a World-Spider? Well, spiders made me uneasy, yet I was fascinated by them. Some aspect of those feelings, mixed with being a lifelong Spider-Man fan, and a love for The Cure’s “Lullaby” gave birth to the World Spider in 2014. After numerous reworkings, largely pertaining to Rodney’s characterization, I published “Madge, the World Spider, and One Last Drink” in my short story collection, We Make Monsters Here in 2021.
Fessenden, Motell Gyn Foster, Owen Campbell
I sent the collection to a few friends in the horror space who I thought would dig it. Co-producer of this tale, Sean Redlitz, a screenwriter who I met through his work at Shudder, was one of the first I sent it to. He and Jenn Wexler’s positive response emboldened me to think about the potential of the stories beyond the page. At the time, I had no idea he knew Larry Fessenden. But I had connected with Larry on a piece I wrote for Fangoria called “Reckoning with the Wendigo,” in which he was my main interview subject. Larry sent me some Wendigo related books and comics he’d worked on over his career for further research. As thanks, I sent him a copy of We Make Monsters Here. I had no expectation he would read it or that anything would come of it. He’s an understandably busy guy, and I just wanted to express my gratitude.
A couple more years passed, and Sean told me Larry had discussed wanting to do another Season of Tales From Beyond the Pale, and that my collection had been discussed. Larry, I was told, was particularly drawn to “Madge, the World Spider, and One Last Drink” and wanted to know if I was interested in writing an adaptation. I jumped at the opportunity. I’d written screenplays before but never one strictly for audio. Sean was instrumental during that process, shooting off ideas that would not only open the story up a little more, but also permit me to rethink my imagery sonically. He has been a crucial sounding board during this experience.
Ella Rae Peck & Fessenden
Casting the actors for the episode was also an exciting new prospect. While I was writing the script this episode, a PR friend sent me a link to a film for review consideration. That film was Chris Skotchdopole’s Crumb Catcher. I loved the film and eventually wrote a booklet essay for the Arrow release of the film. Crumb Catcher was my introduction to Ella Rae Peck, and Rigo Garay as leading actors. Both were on my list for roles in the tale, and funny enough, I did not know that Rigo was also a producer on the then upcoming season of Tales (as well as writer and director of his own episode this season, “SUPER!”). The casting process was an easy-going, collaborative experience and the end result, as you can hear, is a true feat, bound together by Motell Foster’s three incredible, distinct, performances. What sticks with me the most about this entire process is how these seemingly disparate threads, stretching out over a decade, came together. Friends I grew up with, friends I met through my work in journalism, artists I admire, each with their own threads and connections, made this possible. That’s a creator’s dream, and a pretty wicked cool web at that!
—Richard Newby, 6.11.26
Among the unsung heroes of TALES are the artists banging out striking posters reduced to thumbnails on the internet. Here is TALES regular Trevor Denham’s sketch and final for WORLD SPIDER
director and edit Larry Fessenden co-produced and ushered to Audio by Sean Redlitz
Cast: Motell Gyn Foster, Owen Campbell, Clint Jordan, Ella Rae Peck Rigo Garay, Jordan Gass-Pooré, Larry Fessenden Sound Recording and Mix, Matt Rocker at Underground Audio, NYC. Produced by Larry Fessenden and Glenn McQuaid along with Jordan Gass-Pooré and Rigo Garay score and additional sounds by Graham Reznick Bar music: HOLIDAY Madge’s Song: DINOBOY Poster Art: Trevor Denham
When Adam (Alex Breaux), the Frankensteinian monster from 2019’s Depraved, turned up at the very end of 2023’s werewolf film Blackout, encountering the lycanthropic Charley (Alex Hurt), it was an exciting tease for fans of Larry Fessenden’s uniquely personal horror cinema. It promised a meeting of the monsters akin to Universal’s Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, but what has emerged is more akin to the monster mash House of Frankenstein.
FANGORIA is on the scene while Fessenden shoots some key moments for Trauma in a house not far from his home in upstate New York. This is the dwelling place of Adam and Charley, once again played by Breaux and Hurt, respectively. During a break in the shoot, Fessenden explains the storyline that brings his trio of frightening figures together. “A girl named Cassandra [The Pitt breakout star Laëtitia Hollard] comes to a small upstate town, which happens to be Talbot Falls from Blackout. She starts seeing this strange activity at the house next door, and she becomes convinced that these are the monsters from these various upstate stories. There was a werewolf killed in a jail, there was a Frankenstein story where a guy was thrown off a balcony and the house burned.
“A local newspaper publishes her observations about what she’s seen through the window in an opinion piece, just saying, ‘There’s something weird in this place, and the town won’t admit it,’” Fessenden continues. “It’s put on the web—and Sam, who’s been a vampire for 30 years now and hasn’t a lot to do, sees this and thinks, ‘Oh my God, there are other monsters?’ So he comes up just to make mischief.
“The whole town is suffering from trauma from all these incidents in the past. So the movie is everything from a commentary on newspapers and social media to a Hitchcock setup like Rear Window. And as usual for me, it’s really about a whole bunch of characters who are having a difficult time getting along.”
Two residents who are trying hard to get along and keep their monstrous identities hidden from the people around them are Alex and Charley. “The allegory I see in this is that we’re kind of like two recovering addicts,” Breaux says. “We’re in recovery together, and we’re sort of each other’s keeper. Actually, I would say I’m more the wolfman’s keeper than vice versa. When we meet Adam, he has internalized the fate of an outcast, so he has maybe some acceptance toward it instead of rage and anger, which is the place where Charley still lives. So I think Frankenstein is trying to teach the wolfman something here.”
Hurt goes into further detail about Charley’s tormented character, and how it’s expressed in the new werewolf makeup by Fessenden regulars Brian Spears (pictured, applying prosthetics to Hurt) and Peter Gerner. “Charley’s got all this grief he’s going through, and he has never been able to face his feelings and digest what he’s going through. And because of that, he can’t fully see another person. He does get that this other guy, Adam, understands him, and feels a connection there. It’s his only connection at this point. But there’s something pulling him toward wanting to just let the werewolf out.
“The concept is that as Charley is living with this demon, it’s getting stronger and taking over,” Hurt continues. “And it’s told very visually. Last time around [in Blackout], our wolfman was pretty simple. It was like, they put some nails on me, there was a mask and Brian painted me to hell. But it was also, ‘We’re going to use your body. You’re going to create this monster with your physicality.’ This time around, we have a body suit, and the mask is larger. There’s so much more going on.”
That includes return appearances by a number of other actors reprising their roles from Blackout, including Addison Timlin, James Le Gros, John Speredakos, Cody Kostro, Marc Senter, Rigo Garay, Joseph Castillo-Midyett, and Barbara Crampton. Two more familiar New York genre faces, Toby Poser (Hellbender, Mother of Flies) and Emily Bennett (Alone With You, Blood Shine), have parts as well. And at the center of it all are Cassandra and Agnes (Aitana Doyle), the local girl Cassandra sparks with.
“This is a sequel to my other movies, so there are a lot of callbacks,” Fessenden says, “and certainly people who’ve seen those films will be amused. I don’t know if it brings in a new audience, though we do have the two leads who are younger, which is great. It’s fun being an old-timer, with them correcting me on the language in the script. I love all that.”
He elaborates on Hollard and Doyle’s roles: “Cassandra is African-American, so she’s got her history and her feelings of alienation in this town. And then Agnes is kind of the hot girl everybody likes—she’s got such a great vibe—but she also feels like an outsider, and she and Cassandra find a kinship. Of course, in my movies, everyone feels like an outsider. That’s really my mission: to point out that we all feel alone, but that’s just life’s experience. And it’s nice to have these two characters portraying that idea instead of it always being the monsters. The point is, we all feel like monsters sometimes.”
Even with all the emotional ideas his film explores, Fessenden says it will also deliver on the horrific side. Blackout was the filmmaker’s bloodiest outing yet, and as for whether Trauma or, Monsters All follows suit, he notes, “I don’t fetishize it in terms of, like, heads being cut off, but there’s a lot of mayhem. Quite honestly, my vision is very dark, even though my movies are slightly comedic. They’re about human foibles, so that’s funny, and also, there’s something absurd about the situation, where there’s really a wolfman and a Frankenstein-like monster, and then there’s a vampire. That just comes from my love of this stuff. But in the end, it’s a tragedy because of what happens, what we do to each other, and how we relate, or don’t—how we can’t get along. We’ll see about the blood count. The body count is high, though.”
Now available for pre-order, Ernie Rockelman’s authoritative examination of the career so far of Glass Eye Pix alumn Jim Mickle (GEP’s STAKE LAND, plus WE ARE WHAT WE ARE, COLD IN JULY, HAP AND LEONARD, SWEET TOOTH etc). Forward by Fessenden. Pre-Order TODAY!
Glass Eye Pix is the fierce independent NYC-based production outfit headed by award-winning art-horror auteur Larry Fessenden with the mission of supporting individual voices in the arts. Read more...
