«The Devil Returns to Monolith» by William Stancik

In his latest venture, The Devil Returns to Monolith, director William Stancik invites audiences back into a world where the grit of historical trauma meets a distinctly avant-garde sensibility. Following a successful run on the festival circuit, Stancik’s Laslo Films continues its tradition of defiant, no-budget filmmaking, this time weaving a narrative that spans decades of spiritual and industrial decay.

The story transports us to 1959 Monolith, Washington—a town far removed from the pristine sanctuary Father Sydol –  Joe Zumba – sought when fleeing the Dust Bowl in the thirties. The clean air has since been replaced by the stifling smog of industry, and the literal poisoning of the water supply serves as a haunting metaphor for a community curdling under the weight of modern paranoia. At the heart of this tension is a man still reeling from a childhood exorcism performed in 1934; a figure now viewed with suspicion by a populace teetering on the edge of violence.

What truly distinguishes The Devil Returns to Monolith, however, is its refusal to be pinned down by the grim conventions of the supernatural thriller. While the premise suggests a descent into darkness, Stancik infuses the film with an unexpected, almost whimsical heart. There is an inherent absurdity to the proceedings that feels both deliberate and daring, challenging the viewer to find “warmth” amidst the impending doom. It is an ambitious piece of indie cinema that prioritises atmosphere and idiosyncratic storytelling over traditional genre tropes, resulting in an experience that is as unpredictable as it is earnest. For those seeking a film that wears its low-budget roots as a badge of honour, The Devil Returns to Monolith offers a journey that is, if nothing else, singular in its vision.