Movie Review: Murder Boy

 Independent horror has always thrived in the shadows, and Murder Boy feels like the kind of film you would have stumbled across on a beat-up VHS tape at the back of a video store in the late ’80s or early ’90s. Directed by Alexander Henderson, this dark and unsettling descent into obsession, manipulation, and occult influence proudly embraces its underground roots, delivering a horror experience that feels handcrafted for fans of shot-on-video cult cinema. The film follows Celo, a young woman whose life begins to unravel on the eve of her nineteenth birthday. After discovering that her boyfriend intends to leave her for another woman, she finds herself pulled into the orbit of the mysterious Margaret Wellington, a figure from her past who introduces her to a disturbing family legacy built on power and control. What unfolds is a twisted journey into a world where love is no longer something to be earned naturally—it’s something to be taken. What immediately stands out about Murder Boy is its commitment to its VHS-inspired aesthetic. The grainy visuals, rough edges, and raw presentation give the film an authenticity that many modern horror productions spend thousands of dollars trying to recreate. Rather than feeling polished and sterile, the movie has the energy of a forgotten underground horror tape passed from collector to collector over the years. That DIY spirit becomes one of the film’s greatest strengths.

Henderson clearly understands the appeal of vintage shot-on-video horror. Instead of trying to hide the limitations of the format, he embraces them, using the lo-fi visuals to create an atmosphere that feels strange, intimate, and often deeply uncomfortable. The result is a film that feels less like a traditional horror movie and more like you’ve discovered something you weren’t supposed to be watching. The story itself explores themes of obsession, control, and emotional vulnerability through a supernatural lens. While the occult elements drive the narrative forward, the real horror comes from watching Celo’s emotional state evolve as she becomes increasingly immersed in Margaret Wellington’s world. The film succeeds because it understands that the most effective horror often comes from human desperation rather than monsters or jump scares. What makes Murder Boy particularly appealing for indie horror fans is its unapologetic commitment to being its own thing. It doesn’t chase mainstream horror trends or rely on overproduced spectacle. Instead, it embraces the weird, uncomfortable, and often unpredictable qualities that have made underground horror such a beloved corner of the genre.