The camera holds on a lingering shot of the buzzing neon sign and you know exactly where we’re at - EXT. a shitty roadside motel.
INT. A group of old friends reuniting to escape wife and life. But as the sun sets and the heat rises, old ghosts begin to walk among the living. Asking questions about queer representation in pop culture, The Pitchforks is a tender love-letter to and vicious indictment of horror movies and the people who love (and hate) (and make) them.