Lizzie Borden took an axe, gave her mother forty whacks…
Yeah, we’ve heard it. So has everyone else.
That rhyme’s been beaten to death in ghost stories, slasher setups, and enough low-budget horror movies to fill a streaming graveyard. It’s horror shorthand at this point—say her name, summon the spirit, and prepare to taste her axe.
Even Hollywood took a swing, and to be fair, the Lizzie Borden Took an Axe film and its follow-up series with Christina Ricci weren’t half bad.
They gave us the infamy. They gave us the legend. They gave us a new look at an old story—one that, no matter how many people try to explain it, will never be resolved. After all, this is one story that lives on beyond the grave.
So, if you’re going to resurrect Lizzie? You better bring something fresh, something sharp, and something that actually earns the name.
When a new indie film shows up calling itself The Lizzie Borden Game, there’s only one rule:
Bring the legend. Bring the fear. Bring the blood.
Or face our forty whacks.
The Lizzie Borden Game first sets the stage with a pair of sisters whispering the old rhyme in the mirror, asking Lizzie to show them what she did. The classic setup: say the chant, look into the glass, unleash the blade. But the pair forget an important lesson—children shouldn’t play with dead things. Because when you call on evil, sometimes that evil tends to show itself, and on this night, the infamous axe killer decides to pay these two a visit and show them exactly what she did.
From here, the film introduces us to our main cast: the troubled Emily, still mourning the loss of her parents from a tragic accident three months ago; her cousin Shelby, who is determined to help her forget her pain—at least for the weekend; and Shelby’s boyfriend Kyle. Together, the three of them plan to spend “Friendsgiving” with the two remaining players in our story: Rupert and Amelia, a couple visiting from Britain.
But before the three head out to meet up with the others, Emily is troubled by the story of the two missing girls—whose mother reported they were last seen the night before, playing the Lizzie Borden game.
This story will plague Emily as they begin their journey. After all, she used to play the game as a kid—I mean, who didn’t? Wasn’t it just an old urban legend?
As the trio arrives to meet Rupert and Amelia, we learn that Kyle booked them a castle for the weekend. So out goes your stereotypical cabin in the woods, replaced with a castle in the woods. Apparently, that’s a thing. This is America, right?
Once inside, Emily begins to feel that something is off with the castle, like there might be a presence dwelling in those brick walls. If that wasn’t enough, she can’t stop thinking about the article, the two girls, and the Lizzie Borden game.
Never having heard of Lizzie Borden or the game, the group decides to show their international friends how it’s played. They head to the castle basement: light a candle, look into the mirror, repeat the rhyme, and say, “Let us see what you have done.”
But then—and this is the important part—after you open that channel to the dead, you have to close it by saying, “I find you innocent, Ms. Borden,” three times.
After all, Lizzie was found not guilty of her crimes, a fact Kyle shares—but it didn’t stop all the local children from tormenting her to her dying breath, repeating the rhyme any chance they got. It’s said that if you say the chant now, she comes for you. She may not have been able to stop her tormentors in life, but she’ll be damned if she’s going to let them torment her in death.
After foolishly agreeing to play the game, the five friends look on in terror as they witness Lizzie in the mirror—like opening a portal to the past, they watch as she takes her axe and gives her partners whack after whack, losing all grip on reality.
Shaken by what they witnessed—the group hastily leave the basement, convinced their minds must be playing tricks on them—denying any of it was real. After all, it’s only a kid’s game.
All except Emily. She begs them to stay. She begs them to finish the ritual. Because you can’t forget the most important part—you have to close the door.
Not willing to discuss what just happened, the others brush it off. Why face evil when you can act like it doesn’t exist? A grave mistake, they soon learn.
Because just like the girls in the beginning, they learn what happens when you invite evil into your home. It takes you up on the invitation.
As the friends begin meeting the sharp end of Lizzie’s axe, Emily discovers she was right to be afraid. This house really is evil, and Lizzie is determined to end her tormentors’ lives.
But can the group finish the game in time—or will they receive their own forty whacks?
Or is Lizzie even to blame?
Is she truly a killer… or a broken soul who snapped and is now tormented in death as she was in life?
What happens when Emily is forced to learn the truth about what really happened that night? Will it finally put Lizzie’s soul to rest—or, like Lizzie before her, will it drive Emily to madness?
Do we have a new rhyme now?
One where Emily took an axe…?
Because evil never dies.
It just finds a new host.
The Lizzie Borden Game is better than it has any right to be.
Yes, the acting is rough. Very rough in places. But that’s expected in a micro-budget indie film. What matters more here is the story—and this story hits. The concept works. The lore is strong. And the atmosphere, while inconsistent, gets surprisingly chilling at times.
Sure, there are moments where the film flies too close to the sun. The repeated shots of Lizzie grinning in the woods like the Cheshire Cat wear out their welcome fast. It creeps you out the first time, maybe even a second, but by the fourth, you get it—she’s crazy. We know. But when Lizzie is creeping through the house—flashing in and out of shadows, appearing just past someone’s shoulder, stalking her prey in silence? It works.
Even the teleporting works, most of the time. It’s clearly borrowed from the Jason Voorhees school of horror physics, but when it nails the timing, it lands. The under-the-bed moment? Yeah. That one hit. Lizzie is at her best when she’s sulking around the castle, dragging that axe, not grinning like an idiot in the woods.
The addition of her victims wandering the halls was a smart touch. It adds a layer of tragedy—that they’re now cursed to share her fate. Early glimpses of their bodies shambling in the background were effective. But when the film goes full ghost? That falls apart. These shots remind us how far the budget stretches. And that’s weird, because the practical effects? Those went hard. The gore sequences have weight. Lizzie carving through bodies with her axe hits exactly like you want it to. She lives up to her legend, and then some. It’s sloppy, brutal, and clearly trying to hit Terrifier-level practical effects—and honestly? You have to respect it. They didn’t hold back. They aimed high, and more often than not, they got there.
The overused tropes? Yeah, they’re everywhere. Except the castle setting, which at least breaks out of the usual “cabin in the woods” formula. Whether that was a conscious decision or just the only location they had—doesn’t matter. It was different enough to stand out.
But the rest? It’s the full checklist: wandering off alone, not believing the clearly smarter main character, and yes—someone actually says “I’ll be right back.” If the filmmakers were trying to wink at the genre and play it ironically, it doesn’t land that way. It doesn’t feel clever, it just feels recycled.
The dialogue suffers—not always because of the writing, but because some of these actors just don’t sell a line. It matters, but again, this is low-budget horror. If you’re watching this expecting A-level performances, that’s on you.
Where the film really delivers is in how it handles the legend itself. Instead of repeating the same old “Lizzie did it and now she’s mad” angle, it twists the myth, shows us someone else committed the murders, and lets Lizzie snap from grief and guilt. She’s not evil—she’s broken. And now that pain lives on, taking new hosts to carry the axe forward.
The final twist—that the curse gets passed on, that evil never dies, it just finds someone new? That works. It continues the cycle, and it adds just enough dread to leave the lights on afterward.
If you’re a fan of Lizzie Borden lore, this belongs on your list. It’s not perfect. It’s not polished. But it’s way better than it should be.
So, The Lizzie Borden Game—we find you innocent.
Now unleash your evil on the next poor soul who dares to play.
