Istvan Dugalin ➤

Kathleen Welch and Natalia Bushnik in spilleHOLLE | Photo by Robbie Harper

This January, Toronto sees its first ever horror theatre festival. Dead of Winter is presented by Spindle Collective and Eldritch Theatre. Spooky offerings are a familiar affair at the Red Sandcastle Theatre, though this is chance to catch a series of original short works from a variety of local creators. Broken up into two evenings and featuring a musical guest, Eric Woolfe hosts the proceedings as his perennial ghoulish curmudgeon, Doc Wuthersrgloom.   

With that trademark contempt for all people and things, he dismisses October’s dubious claim to be the spookiest of months. Calling Halloween out as simply more of the pumpkin spice frivolity he despises, he makes a rambling, jaundiced case for January, indulgently comparing its relentless punishments to a very specific childhood bully. The unfortunately awkward location of the venue’s washroom also gets plenty of comic attention.

Night of Terror featured Andra Zlatescu as the evening’s musical entertainment. Eerie and melancholic, she ends her set by playing the saw, an unsettling, surprisingly melodic repurposed instrument.

spilleHOLLE, written and performed by Natalia Bushnik and Kathleen Welch is an original folk horror tale inspired by Germanic pagan characters. This brief, lyrical fable feels like a legit classic. Welch and Bushnik have great chemistry as a tense mother-daughter duo. Perchta is a witch; ostracized by the community, she’s something of a cruel tyrant to Spilleholle, who is resistant to her mother’s magic, which is woven on an authentic wooden spinning wheel that a provides rustic central image.

Youthful rebellion, budding sexuality, disillusionment and brow-beating make for a haunting little meditation on the trauma of isolation and derangement.

Medha Arora and Natalie Stephenson in The Matchmaker | Photo by Robbie Harper

The Matchmaker, written by Aaliya Alibhai and directed by Nina Kaye took a while to reveal its horrors. It opens as a rather sweet and funny little interaction between a young woman, Cordelia (Medha Arora) and a psychic matchmaker, Madame Velius (Natalie Stephenson). Both performances are low-key hammy, though Stephenson’s poise is a little more even than Arora’s timid, awkward demeanour. For its brief runtime, it’s entertaining enough and has a decent sinister reveal.

Aaron Macpherson and Michael Kash in The Hag of Bell Island | Photo by Robbie Harper

The final entry of the evening is The Hag of Bell Island and it’s a tight, atmospheric, exceptionally well-executed chiller set in 1960s Newfoundland. David Ferry’s script is real crackerjack, both grounded and whimsical. Michael Kash is an endearing as the baffled, patient sceptic Ray, tasked with documenting the testimony of a jumpy young German man, Helmut (Aaron Macpherson), who claims he suddenly appeared on the rocky shores of the island after falling asleep. His account of a ghostly encounter aligns with a local legend. Macpherson gives an intense, arresting portrait of a spooked man, his emotionality piercing yet never overwrought.

This has impressive production value given the quick-change requirements of the format. Christo Graham’s sound design is understated and evocative. Joe Madziak’s set, which has a big surprise in store for us, is a clever bit of design and low-tech engineering. Kyra Harper as the Hag has a very quick appearance, but she makes quite an impression with a brilliant jump scare!

Evening of Fear follows the same format. Featured musician for this round was Morgara, whose musical stylings veered into melodrama and I was absolutely there for it.

Darius Rathe and Rachelle Mazzilli in perfect pains | Photo by Robbie Harper

Written by Faizan Bokhari, perfect pains is an uneven, campy bit of Grand Guignol. A patient (Darius Rathe) signs up for a medical procedure with the promise of huge payout. As all the severed body parts on display indicate, the doctors (Rachelle Mazzilli and Liam Armstrong) clearly have something vile in store for him.

Rathe gives an understated, very compelling performance while Mazzilli and Armstrong seem to be in an entirely different play, absolutely hamming up a storm. He’s clearly meant to be the straight man in this wacky scene, but I think director Rachel Abramovich could have toned down their schtick a tad, retaining the goofiness, but giving it a little more weight.

I loved how absurd and unhinged some of the gore gets during the climax, though more blood would have sent it properly over the edge. While the scenario is outlandish, Bokhari has peppered it with some rather on-the-nose commentary about the high cost of living and desperate circumstances.

Elva Mai Hoover, Susan Wesson and Sarah Machin Gale in Jimmy | Photo by Robbie Harper

Jimmy is a horror tale of an entirely different order. In terms of presentation, this is deceptively simple. Three elderly women sit on chairs facing us. As they bring vivid life to Marcia Tratt’s text, the scenario they conjure becomes increasingly uncomfortable. By turns, the trio share their experiences with Jimmy, a young male worker at a nursing home who has been visiting them at their beds, taking intimate liberties. The complexity of the situation is revealed through their distinct, contrasting attitudes towards these ongoing encounters—enthusiasm, confusion and terror. Their voices eventually coalesce and their rhythm crescendos.

Director Cara Hunter doesn’t try to do anything flashy or clever to distract us from the grounded, stirring performances by Elva Mai Hoover, Susan Wesson and Sarah Machin Gale. United by circumstance, separated by their experience, this is a finely tuned bit of poetic storytelling, and achingly human.

Jeff Dingle and Victoria Urquhart in Mercy of the Vampire | Photo by Robbie Harper

Another simple entry, Mercy of the Vampire, written by Jeff Dingle, is a campy Dracula send-up bursting with humour, creep factor and heart. Ashlyn (Victoria Urquhart) is a potato farmer who has sought out a local vampire (Dingle) to make her beloved, elderly cat an immortal creature. In both the script and performances, the mastery of tone here is understated yet astonishing.

I appreciate director Jennifer Dzialoszynski’s choice to not light it beyond the murky glow of handheld lanterns. As your eyes adjust, faces creep in and out of shadow. As silly as the premise is, the atmosphere is genuinely creepy. I also found it remarkable moving. As someone who has had a number of pets I’ve considered family, some moments hit with surprising emotive force. Dingle and Urquhart are solid, fully understanding the layers of the material. And Joel Bazin as the vampire’s henchman, Mort, is a colourfully creepy and predatory little weirdo.

While some pieces are stronger than others, I thoroughly enjoyed myself during each offering. Three plays and a musical guest for 90 minutes is a great deal and not an especially big commitment! While this run is short, I hope this festival becomes a thing. It’s a great genre theatre showcase and lots of fun.

Dead of Winter: The First Toronto Horror Theatre Festival
January 21 to 25, 2026
Red Sandcastle Theatre
(922 Queen Street East)
90 minutes (each evening)

Darius Rathe, Rachelle Mazzilli and Liam Armstrong in perfect pains | Photo by Robbie Harper