Pierre Tsigaridis makes a knockout directorial entrance with the two-fisted Two Witches, a wickedly delightful pair of interlocked tales involving the devil herself — yes, her — and the titular women who do her bidding. To paraphrase the kid at the Gas ‘n’ Sip on a Saturday night in Say Anything …, “Witches, man!”

Not since Rosemary’s Baby has a young, pregnant woman gone through as much trimester trauma as Sarah (Belle Adams, The Manor), the center of chapter one. After an unkempt “boogeywoman” (Marina Parodi) gives her “the evil eye” in a restaurant, Sarah grows more anxious and nauseated, not to mention plagued by nightmarish visions. It’s all made worse by a visit to friends who dig out the Ouija board.

The second chapter illustrates why having roommates is a living hell. For grad student Rachel (Kristina Klebe, 2007’s Halloween reboot), her difficulties amount to the waifish Masha (Rebekah Kennedy, 2011’s Season of the Witch) being needy, manipulative and, well, a witch.

One of Two Witches’ strengths is Tsigaridis’ script isn’t concerned about explaining the witchery, which makes it all the more chilling. Another is how far mere facial expressions can go in creating fright in viewers; he relies on that as much as the ol’ standby of contact lenses that make its wearers look as though their eyeballs have been swapped with freshly peeled hard-boiled eggs. (I only wish he had more trust in his audience; we don’t need flashbacks to understand characters appearing in the second story are the same key supporting players we just saw a few minutes before in the first.)

Highly influenced by Eurohorror, the witches are terrifying, fitting alongside the coven from Dario Argento’s Suspiria. Going further, in emphasizing scares over style, this is the witch movie you likely hoped Luca Guadagnino’s 2018 remake would be. I can see it becoming a perennial favorite from Halloween to Christmas, given the second half takes place at that supposed most wonderful time of the year.

From subliminal flashes to unflinching scenes of violence and the vile, Two Witches works hard and pays off, begging to be seen in a crowded theater. Bow to the new queen. And stick around after the credits. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.

As Infrared recently showed, with the right role, The Room sidekick Greg Sestero can act. While Miracle Valley isn’t his greatest showcase, he proves he can direct, too — on his first outing, no less.

With girlfriend Sarah (model Angela Mariano, doing just fine in her acting debut) down in the dumps due to a gravely ill mom, David (Sestero) takes her on a weekend road trip to an out-of-the-way ranch in the unforgiving Arizona desert. Besides, he’s trying to snap a pic of the elusive, never-before-photographed “silver hawk.”

Birds should be his least concern, given the area’s bats: the members of a cult settled in the area. When a menacing motorcyclist (scene-stealing live wire Rick Edwards, Skatetown U.S.A.) invites them to an event — Father Rick’s Awakening — a spiritually thirsty Sarah talks David into going.

Upon their departure, David’s pal jokes, “Don’t drink the Kool-Aid!” As we’ve established before, the noxious beverage he’s referencing was Flavor Aid. Still, the sugar-powder shoe fits; with Miracle Valley being about a cult, the friend’s barb soon no longer lands as funny.

So you think you know where Miracle Valley is going. And you’re right … but also not. Sestero’s script follows the well-tread path of all krazy-kook movies before it, until he chooses where to head next seemingly by throwing a stack of old Marvel Comics in the air — The Incredible Hulk and The Tomb of Dracula in particular — and letting the fallen pages guide him.

That’s largely a compliment. While he doesn’t always make the right choice, he at least makes a different choice. In doing so, Miracle Valley upends your expectations while fulfilling your hunger for exploitation, and leaves a good-looking corpse. With the epilogue at Frank Lloyd Wright’s iconic Fallingwater home, how could it not? —Rod Lott