Almost everything the English word "voodoo" conveys was manufactured outside Haiti. The pin-stuck doll is the clearest case. Such figures, called poppets, belong to European folk magic and are attested there long before any European contact with Haiti; the image was attached to Vodou by nineteenth and twentieth century writers describing New Orleans and Port-au-Prince for foreign readers. Dolls of that kind have no role in Haitian practice.
The zombie does belong to Haitian folklore, but not in the form the cinema took. Haitian accounts concern a person whose will has been captured and who is made to labour without rest, a horror shaped by the memory of slavery rather than by any fear of contagion. The film industry seized it during the United States occupation of Haiti, and White Zombie of 1932 founded a genre that has since had almost nothing to do with the religion it borrowed from.
The occupation of 1915 to 1934 is central to how the caricature spread. Portraying Haitians as savages in the grip of a bloody cult supplied a justification for the presence of the Marines, and the travel writing of the period was widely read and rarely checked. Its residue still shapes how the religion is treated, including by Haitians raised on missionary teaching.
Animal sacrifice is real and should not be denied. Chickens, goats and occasionally cattle are offered to particular lwa at major feasts, killed under ritual rules, then cooked and eaten by those present. It is a meal shared with the spirits, closer to a communal slaughter for a village festival than to anything the English word sacrifice usually suggests.
Sorcery is a genuine internal category rather than a foreign invention, but it is not what Vodou means. Haitians distinguish serving the spirits with both hands, meaning openly and for good, from work done to harm; practitioners condemn the second as firmly as any outsider. The distinction is theirs, and it is the one that matters.