DAILY CALL SHEET: FEBRUARY 9, 2026

Killdozer! (1974) A crew of six construction workers are stationed on an uninhabited island to build an airstrip for their oil company employers. Not long after they start work, they uncover an ancient meteorite that sends a strange blue light into their bulldozer, causing the blade to start humming. Against the advice of the mechanic, the foreman orders the bulldozing to continue, but as soon as the machine is turned on, it sets about trying to kill off all the humans. Declaring the malevolent machine to be a murderer, the remaining crew try to figure out a way to execute it. If we're being honest, this isn't as good as my nostalgic brain wants it to be, but eight-year-old me who saw it when it first aired doesn't want to hear any of that.

Of course, there's a patron saint of construction workers, along with builders, brick makers, plumbers, tile makers, and related trades. That would be Saint Vincent Ferrer, who was a Dominican friar, preacher, and missionary in the late 1300s. Vincent wasn't actually a tradesman, so his patronage is more symbolic. He earned the title because of his heroic efforts in "building up" the Church through preaching, missionary work, and conversions. Perhaps most important was his work in undermining the antipope Benedict XIII, which helped bring a resolution to the Great Western Schism in 1417. Saint Joseph gets a nod as the patron of all workers, but if your need is particularly construction related, Saint Vincent Ferrer is your man.

Inferno (1980) While doing some research in New York City, poet Rose finds an ancient text detailing how The Three Mothers use their witchcraft to rule the world. And, wouldn't you know it, Rose discovers the Mother of Darkness might just be living in her apartment building. Rose's brother Mark tells her to keep her head until he can get there from Rome, but poor Rose ends up doing just the opposite. Arriving in the Big Apple to search for his missing sister, Mark finds himself embroiled in all kinds of supernatural shenanigans. This follow-up to Argento's Suspiria retains its predecessor's distinctive stylization, as well as its tenuous dream logic that sort of makes sense while you're experiencing it in the dark, but falls apart once you're back in the light and thinking about it too much. For proof, I offer the sequence involving a cat murdering antiques dealer, hundreds of rats, and an enraged hot dog vendor. Still, you don't really go into Argento looking for logic, do you? So, while Inferno never quite reaches the delirious heights of Suspiria, it's absolutely a worthy deranged sequel.

The word "Inferno" doesn't actually appear in the Bible or the writings of the Early Church Fathers. It's usage as a synonym for Hell is owed mostly to Dante's Divine Comedy and that work's influence on Western culture in general and medieval/Renaissance Christianity in particular. In fact, one could make an argument that Dante's fictional imaginings of Hell as a layered realm full of jail-keeping demons meting out tortuous punishments fit for each sinner's crimes is more ingrained in the public consciousness than the vague descriptions of Hell that are actually in the Bible. Even so, the Church has celebrated the Devine Comedy, emphasizing the work's alignment with Catholic theology through its portrayal of sin, redemption, mercy, and divine love. So, the work might not reflect the literal reality of Hell, but as St. Pope John Paull II noted, it is a "vision of reality that speaks of the life to come and the mystery of God with the vigor of theological thought transformed by the combined splendor of art and poetry."