Honestly, if you're into that specific sub-genre where World War II grit meets "holy crap, is that a demon?", you've probably stumbled across The Devil's Rock movie. It’s one of those cult gems that feels like it was filmed in a basement because, well, it basically was. Released back in 2011, this New Zealand horror flick didn't have the massive marketing budget of a Blumhouse production, but it had something way better: Weta Workshop doing the gore.
What is The Devil's Rock movie actually about?
Set on the eve of D-Day, June 5, 1944, the story follows two New Zealand commandos, Captain Ben Grogan (played by Craig Hall) and Sergeant Joe Tane (Karlos Drinkwater). Their mission is pretty standard on paper. They land on Forau Island in the Channel Islands to blow up some German guns as a distraction for the Normandy landings.
But things go sideways fast.
Instead of just finding bored Nazis guarding artillery, they hear these blood-curdling screams coming from inside a massive concrete bunker. Naturally, because it's a horror movie, they go inside. They find the place littered with mutilated bodies—and I mean mutilated. We're talking intestines as wall decor.
It turns out an SS Colonel named Klaus Meyer (Matthew Sunderland) has been playing around with a book of black magic. He's trying to summon a demon to win the war for Hitler. Classic Nazi move, right? The problem is, the demon he summoned takes the form of whatever the person looking at it desires most. For Grogan, she looks like his dead wife, Helena.
The Weta Workshop factor
You can’t talk about The Devil's Rock movie without mentioning the practical effects. Since it's a Kiwi production, they had access to the legendary Weta Workshop. You know, the people who did Lord of the Rings and King Kong.
Director Paul Campion actually came from a visual effects background—he worked on Constantine and The Return of the King—so he knew exactly how to make a low budget look like a million bucks. The demon, played by Gina Varela, isn't some blurry CGI mess. It’s a physical, red-skinned, horned nightmare that actually looks like it occupies the same physical space as the actors.
The blood looks "heavy." The wounds look wet. There’s a scene where the demon eats a guy's head that still holds up better than most modern digital effects.
Why the small cast works
Most of the movie is just three people in a room: the commando, the Nazi, and the demon. It feels like a stage play, but a really claustrophobic, sweaty one.
Matthew Sunderland as the Nazi Colonel is actually the standout. He doesn't play the character as a screaming cartoon villain. He's weirdly calm, almost academic about the fact that he's trapped in a room with a soul-eating succubus. It makes the tension between him and the Kiwi soldier way more interesting than just "good guy vs. bad guy." They’re forced to work together to keep the demon from escaping, which is a great trope when done right.
Real history vs. movie magic
The movie leans heavily into the "Nazi Occult" mythos. Did the Nazis actually try to summon demons in the Channel Islands? Probably not. But Hitler’s inner circle, especially Himmler, was famously obsessed with mysticism and ancient Germanic lore.
The filming location adds a ton of authenticity too. While the interiors were filmed in a studio in Wellington, they used the Wright's Hill Fortress in Karori for many of the bunker shots. This was a real WWII-era New Zealand coastal defense battery. The cold, damp concrete walls you see on screen? Those aren't foam props. You can practically smell the mildew through the screen.
Is it actually scary?
It depends on what scares you. If you like "jump scares" where a cat jumps out of a cupboard, no.
The horror here is much more about dread and "body horror." It’s about the psychological torture of seeing your dead wife standing in front of you, knowing she’s actually a monster that wants to rip your throat out. The movie is short—only about 83 minutes—so it doesn't overstay its welcome. It gets in, shows you some gross stuff, builds the tension to a breaking point, and ends.
Why people still talk about it in 2026
Even fifteen years after its release, The Devil's Rock movie gets brought up in horror forums constantly. Why? Because it’s honest. It’s a B-movie that knows it’s a B-movie, but it treats its subject matter with total sincerity.
It also doesn't rely on the "found footage" trope that was killing the genre back in 2011. It’s shot like a classic 1970s Hammer Horror film but with modern gore sensibilities. It’s a "meat and potatoes" horror movie for people who like practical effects and a solid, simple premise.
Actionable insights for fans
If you’re planning to watch or re-watch this one, here are a few things to keep in mind to get the most out of it:
- Watch the "Making Of": If you can find the DVD or a digital version with the extras, watch the behind-the-scenes footage. Seeing how they built the demon suit on a shoestring budget is a masterclass in independent filmmaking.
- Check out Paul Campion’s shorts: Before making this, Campion made a short called Eel Girl. It has the same gross-but-fascinating vibe and really shows where his style comes from.
- Double Feature it: This pairs perfectly with movies like Outpost (2008) or Overlord (2018). It's part of that unofficial "Nazis and Monsters" trilogy that every horror fan needs to see.
- Pay attention to the sound: The sound design is surprisingly layered for a small film. The distant screams and the way the demon's voice changes based on who she's talking to is actually really clever.
The Devil's Rock movie isn't going to change your life, but it’s a rock-solid example of what happens when talented people make the most of a limited budget. It’s dark, it’s gross, and it’s a hell of a lot of fun if you’ve got the stomach for it.
To dive deeper into the world of Nazi occult cinema, your next step should be researching the production history of Weta Workshop’s early horror collaborations. Seeing how they transitioned from small gore-fests to Lord of the Rings provides incredible context for the quality of the creature design in this film.