
Rod Blackhurst’s (Blood for Dust, Night Swim) Dolly was one of those Fantastic Fest discoveries I walked into with zero expectations and walked out genuinely impressed. Not just because of the gnarly, wince-inducing practical effects, but because of its unapologetic swing-for-the-rafters ambition.
Channeling a Northeast backwoods riff on The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, the film follows Maci (Fabianne Therese), who’s planning a quiet hike with her boyfriend Chase (Seann William Scott — yes, Stifler himself) after they drop off his daughter. Before they even hit the trail, there’s tension simmering beneath the surface. Maci has already found the ring Chase is carrying and knows a proposal is coming. The problem? She’s not sure she’s ready to become a stepmom.
That uncertainty turns deadly when their hike brings them face-to-face with Dolly — a nightmarish abomination who roams the woods looking like an American Girl doll from hell. She wears a shattered porcelain mask, a blood-soaked babydoll dress, and never goes anywhere without her trusty shovel.
What unfolds is more than a brutal survival thriller. As Maci fights for her life, she’s also forced to confront the fears and doubts about motherhood. Dolly blends visceral horror with something surprisingly introspective.
With the film hitting theaters this Friday, I spoke with director and co-writer Rod Blackhurst about how he came to the story of Dolly — and what it takes to pull off a practical-effects-heavy horror film on an indie budget.
First off, Rod, congratulations on the movie. I actually met you at Fantastic Fest when I caught Dolly, and we say this a lot as critics: some movies absolutely have to be seen in a theater. This was one of them. It ripped with a full crowd. It’s still one of those screenings I think about when I remember that festival and go, “That was wild.”.
Rod: That first screening was overwhelming—in the best way. It felt like drinking from a firehose of feedback. But for the first time, I felt truly seen as a filmmaker by a crowd that loved what we were trying to do. Fantastic Fest was remarkable. The love for Dolly there was remarkable. I can’t wait to go back.
As someone who loves a good redneck rampage flick, what drew you to backwoods horror when you decided to co-write Dolly?
Rod: I mean, I grew up in the backwoods. End of a gravel road, Adirondack Mountains in upstate New York. My parents still live there. No TV. No neighbors. The only video rental place was also a jewelry store owned by my bus driver.
So when you’re a kid born in 1980 with no TV, the movies you end up seeing are the “dangerous” ones at your friends’ houses — the stuff you probably shouldn’t be watching. Those movies stick with you. They fuel your imagination.

Years later, I realized I’d been making films that felt… safe. Structured in a way that made business sense. And my phone still wasn’t ringing. So in 2021 my writing partner Brandon and I said, “Let’s recalibrate. Let’s write something we actually love. Something we can afford to make.”
What’s cheaper than a bunch of woods in the daytime? Fewer characters, fewer locations — keep it manageable. Even then it’s a miracle to get a movie made. But Dolly came from that moment in my life where I thought, maybe I should just make the thing that excites me.
Slashers are defined by its killers, and creating a great one isn’t easy. What was your thought process behind Dolly as a slasher figure? What innate fear were you trying to unlock?
Rod: At its core, Dolly is about family—specifically motherhood. It’s inspired by someone I know who feared becoming like their own mother, who had been dark and destructive in their life. They wondered: Will I repeat that? Will I pass that trauma on?
That’s a very real fear—generational trauma, lineage, inherited pain. So I thought: what if that fear became literal? What if you met the embodiment of that nightmare and had to confront it?
Ironically, I’d pitched very personal films before and none got made. So I decided to do the opposite—tell a story rooted in someone else’s fear. But it’s still deeply human. That’s where Dolly came from.
What I loved is how it works on two levels. It’s a visceral slasher—almost a Northeast Texas Chainsaw homage—but it’s also about a woman trying to survive and untangle something deeply personal.
Rod: Exactly. It can be both. You can come for the references, the laughs, the squirm-inducing moments. But if you want something deeper, it’s there. The film isn’t preachy. It doesn’t tell you how to feel. Take what you want from it. That’s how I try to make movies.

Going back to Dolly, I can’t bring up Dolly without shouting out Max the Impaler’s performance, who took the character and gave it some terrifying grit. How did you arrive at a wrestler for the role? That’s such an intriguing bit of casting.
Rod: We knew we needed someone who could tell a story physically. No dialogue, just presence. We were thinking athletes, dancers, anyone who could move in a way that felt intentional.
Then my producing partner saw a flyer for a wrestling promotion in Nashville with Max’s face on it. I went down an internet rabbit hole and just thought, They’ve got it. That presence.
I messaged them across social media until they finally responded. We met for lunch, and they told me their lifelong dream was to play a monster in a horror movie. It felt like fate.
And honestly, what Max brings to the screen is more layered than what we wrote. That’s collaboration. I just hope they get more opportunities because they’re incredible.
Southern gothic is all about these sort of cycles of trauma and violence, and Dolly has some truly gnarly violence. Having an indie budget, and still trying to deliver these over the top moments of violence what goes into the thought proceess and decision making when trying to pull some of these gags off? It can’t be easy?
Rod: Our practical effects team—Ashley Thomas and Alex Solorzano from Yellow Moth Makeup—were incredible. Filmmaking is collaboration. I’m not a cinematographer, composer, or effects designer. I have an idea and taste, and I rely on talented people.
Often someone would say, “Rod, we can’t do that—but here’s something better.” And they’d improve on what was in the script. That’s why the finished film is stronger than what we originally wrote.
In indie film, there’s no time, no money, and the odds are against you. My job is to listen and let the film become what it needs to be. I ask people to go into battle with me—I have to deliver.
Finally, I’m a sucker for lore, and I loved the mythology. I’ve heard you’re working on more—maybe even a prequel?
Rod: We’ve had plans from the beginning. Filmmaking is creative entrepreneurship. You’re building IP.
We mapped out where this could go—multiple films deep. There are breadcrumbs in Dolly for a reason. Character responses change for a reason.But you start lean. If audiences come with us, we can expand from there. So yes—there are many more Dolly adventures planned. Go see Dolly, and there can be even more.

Totally get what you mean about the ambition – it’s great to see filmmakers really going for it like that, especially with practical effects.