Realm of Satan Review: A Vivid Invitation into a Realm of Imagination

      Note: This review was initially published as part of our coverage for the 2024 Sundance Film Festival. Realm of Satan is now available digitally.

      Scott Cumming’s Realm of Satan, created in collaboration with the Church of Satan as noted in its opening credits, does not aim to reveal hidden aspects of the religion, explore its role among different belief systems, or primarily include perspectives from those who disagree with its teachings. Instead, through a series of striking cinematic scenes, we are invited to observe the lives and practices of individuals who embrace this atheistic belief system. By intentionally avoiding an in-depth exploration of its subjects’ thoughts, and by offering minimal input from the filmmaker aside from the images he chooses to showcase, Realm of Satan serves as a fascinating Rorschach test, allowing viewers to interpret the religious context in their own way.

      With bubbling potions, magic tricks, homes adorned with skulls, and the suggestion of orgies where all participants wear full-body leather, it seems Cumming's goal is to portray this lifestyle in the most appealing light possible. Ultimately, Satanism is more about experiencing joy and indulging in fantasy-filled moments during one’s life on Earth, rather than subscribing to beliefs in the supernatural or an afterlife. Additionally, through imaginative yet realistic visual effects, Realm of Satan presents a cinematic expression of fantasy: we witness humans transforming into creatures, bodies levitating, and cars leaving trails of burning rubber. The inclusive aspect of the religion is highlighted as well, particularly when focusing on a member who uses a wheelchair, illustrating a vision of absolute freedom that only cinema can convey.

      While Cummings, noted for directing the short Buffalo Juggalos and frequently editing for Eliza Hittman, appears to strive for minimal commentary, it's intriguing to note what he emphasizes. We observe one of the presumed leaders living luxuriously, polishing his sports car alongside a large Satanic statue. When contrasted with the substantial incomes that evangelical Christian megachurch pastors gain from their non-profit ventures, Satanism embraces the pursuit of wealth as an admirable ambition, rather than something to conceal or justify. Humor is also prevalent; in one scene, a member hangs laundry to dry, including a large Star Wars-branded towel, while in another, a member applies demonic makeup in the foreground as his wife loads the dishwasher in the background. Indeed, no religion frees adherents from everyday tasks, and consumerism touches us all.

      Cinematographer Gerald Kerkletz captures unforgettable visuals, ranging from the unconventional milking of a newly born goat to a nighttime fire dance ritual in the woods, which would be likely replicated by a future A24 horror filmmaker. Realm of Satan could easily serve as a recruitment tool for new members. While such an intention might be unsettling for other religions, the anti-proselytizing and wholly liberating nature of Satanism makes a propagandistic film like this more palatable. The film's few instances that deviate from its formal structure—showcasing the backlash and targeted attacks some members face—seem dissonant with the overall tone.

      Offering a distinctly different stylistic approach from Penny Lane's documentary Hail Satan? released a few years earlier, Cumming’s feature debut, with its purely observational style, delves into the reasons one might be drawn to this religion. Rather than relying on verbal testimonials or investigative techniques, Realm of Satan focuses on ritual and process, demonstrating that the compelling visuals speak for themselves.

      Realm of Satan premiered at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival.