Felice Darvey

Blood Sabbath (1972) is a wild ride through the trippy, offbeat horror landscape of the early ‘70s. The film drops you headfirst into a world where reality wobbles and nothing feels safe. Our main guy, a battle-scarred Vietnam vet named David, is out here just trying to chill and find some peace in California, but—of course—he stumbles into a strange village full of witches. Not your friendly neighborhood witches either. These are the real deal, complete with rituals, spells, and a gnarly coven leader who’s got her own dark agenda. David, being the classic lost soul, falls for this mysterious woman, Yyala, who’s definitely got that “something’s not right” energy. She’s beautiful, haunting, and, oh yeah, possibly supernatural. The more David gets tangled up with her, the weirder things get—think psychedelic visions, eerie ceremonies in the woods, and a growing sense that everyone’s hiding something. There’s this constant vibe of paranoia and dread, like you can’t trust what you’re seeing. The witches want David for their own twisted reasons, and he gets pulled deeper into their world, losing grip on what’s real versus what’s just some freaky nightmare. The whole film oozes that early ‘70s grindhouse aesthetic—grainy visuals, offbeat editing, and a soundtrack that’s straight-up bonkers. Blood Sabbath is a fever dream of lust, fear, and occult madness, wrapped up in a story that’s as much about the horrors inside our heads as the ones lurking in the dark. It’s messy, it’s weird, and honestly, you probably won’t forget it.