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So, we can’t animate fast enough to give you Scream Freaks full blown reviews of all the horror movies we’ve been watching lately, but we can give ya our straight shoot’n thoughts in bite size chunks. We like to think you trust our opinions, but remember, we’re fans of Killer Tomato movies!

Look up a review: # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z



An ol’ coot of a librarian tasks his nephew with retrievin’ an overdue book of evil from a castle in Transylvania, and with the help of a music video rocker, he’s gotta outwit a nest of vampires ‘fore they use the cursed text to summon a recycled rubber monster to rule the world. An admirable horror comedy produced by Roger Corman that can’t quite land the laughs as well as other similar side splitters like Return of the Killer Tomatoes, this poke at horror old and new (fer it’s time mind ya) unfortunately drags more than it entertains. Despite a handful of lukewarm scenes overstayin’ their welcome and a scatterbrained plot, there are some genuine laughs ‘long the way like the fourth wall breakin’ library scene and plenty of familiar faces from horror to keep me watchin’ like Angus Scrimm and Monique Gabrielle to Zontar (It Conquered the World) brought outta retirement to play the big bad beast in the final reel. Seances with Elvis, Freddy Krueger parodies, Jason Voorhees parodies, Leatherface parodies, Pinhead parodies, Tall Man parodies, Exorcist parodies, goo vomitin’, time fillin’ sing songs, explosive music videos, New York cabbies, supernatural possessin’, premature burials, rubber bats, funerals galore, rent-a-weepers, taverns full of angry villager stereotypes, neck bitin’, bloodsuckin’ transformations, blood sprays galore, stakin’, vampire rock shows, end of the world rituals, and recycled footage of Boris Karloff from The Terror! 2/5! 


A gang of clueless stereotypes celebrate their friends’ bachelorette party at a remote desert cabin ‘fore she rushes into a marriage with a redneck they never met, but that soon changes as her mysterious fiancé crashes their she-shed festivities with his drinkin’ buddies who bring one helluva supernatural twist fer the worst. For the most part, this flick is a frustratin’ watch, ’cause it’s such a struggle gettin’ through the first half thanks to the star ensemble of  ladies bein’ so poorly written as a buncha flat personalities missin’ necessary context to help me frame their relationships to each other, all the while refusin’ to wring real answers outta the bride-to-be regardin’ the circumstances ‘hind her marriage. But if ya tough it through all the bullshit of gals partyin’ it up with yoga and shots despite findin’ a goat’s head in the hot tub, you’ll be treated to an almost redeemable surprise akin to From Dusk Till Dawn. Hot tub hidey holes with decapitated goat heads, missin’ ears, bullets to the face, neck bitin’, long winded go-go dancin’ by headlights, monster-ish transformations, slightly hard-to-follow huntin’ schemes, resurrection burials, fatal sunburns, and one of the most memorable sexpots beggin’ to be a victim we’ve ever seen in a horror movie! 2/5! 


After a young’n finds one of the Book of the Dead volumes in a secret vault below his family’s soon-to-be condemned apartment buildin’, all hell breaks loose on the 14th floor as some cursed mumbo is uttered from its damned pages, trappin’ him and his family with a kill happy deadite that use to be their mama. Top shelf production with a truly committed cast, this is solid filmmakin’ through and through but falls flat as far as story’s concerned. The groundwork for the family and all their quirks is laid out for an emotionally fueled thrill ride with some depth, but it’s completely abandoned for a second act full of non-stop machine gun scare tactics remindin’ me of a buncha haunted house shenanigans spoofin’ exorcism flicks. The filmmakers eventually rise ‘bove this with a sweet parkin’ garage finale that’s a little Evil Dead meets The Thing, but thanks to the last girls feelin’ as underdeveloped as their plot point neighbors who strictly serve the body count, it’s ’bout as excitin’ as watchin’ my amigo beat a boss level in a video game. I know it’s absurd criticizin’ an Evil Dead movie fer character development of all thangs, but this franchise has come a looong from its indie heyday and has the capacity fer bein’ more than just gore porn as the 2013 Evil Dead flick proved. I might be more forgivin’ if the middle of the movie just went balls to the wall like Evil Dead 2 did with the deadites fuckin’ with the family’s perception of reality. Tattoo guns to the face, earthquakes, scalpin’, drones to the face, watery graves, supernatural read alongs, woodchipper fatalities, multi-limb deadites, elevator possessions, limb snappin’, possessions galore, floatin’ attacks, wall climbin’, deadite record players, glass eatin’, human matchsticks, face stabbin’ with scissors, hand stabbin’ with mirror shards, cheese gratered legs, arm stabbin’ with knives, blood vomitin’, goo vomitin’, cursed records, A/C ambushin’, face leakin’, eyeball spittin’ and eatin’, neck rippin’, shotguns to the legs, elevators explodin’ with blood, chainsaws to the face, and showers of blood! 4/5! 


Strange events have been occurrin’ at Headstone Manor since 18 folks were slaughtered one infamous night, and much to the dismay of the local e.t. worshippin’ cult, a comical gang of British scientists take it upon ’emselves to crash the estate and find out why with laughable consequences. A mild comedy with consistent gags and zing ‘hind its special effects, this flick ain’t terrible but could be better if the filmmakers spent just a hair more time developin’ the meat of the story. Like what exactly has been goin’ on since the murders that brought these supernatural eggheads here? Is this really all ’bout demonoids from space bein’ super sensitive over folks trespassin’ on their property? Instead of folks huntin’ fer supper most the runtime, couldn’t we see more paranormal investigatin’ actually bein’ done ‘fore everyone’s deaths are rushed in the last reel? Nothin’ major, mind ya, but just ‘nough so the most memorable parts ain’t just a topless blonde bein’ banged by an invisible devil, and a fella yanked down the shitter. Folks melted by lightnin’, crispy corpses, demonoid doppelgangers from space, neck bitin’, mole poppin’ rat puppets, literal bloodbaths, blood drenched walls, evil meat pies, fake leg electrocutions, body horror farts, knives to the face through phones, questionable suicidal strangulations, psych-out homicidal hangin’s, explodin’ monks, boobs ‘tween the sheets, decapitations with electric can openers, Carrie nods, E.T. nods, Alien nods, Jaws nods, Rosemary’s Baby nods, gut slingin’ surgeries, satanic tattoos galore, throat slittin, hangin’s, axes to the head, shotgun blasts to the upper body, skewerin’, and Vincent Price splittin’ my funny bone with the line, “You don’t tell me to piss off. YOU PISS OFF!” 3/5!   

FREEZE (2022)

It’s the early 1900s, and a rescue vessel braves artic waters to find a missin’ crew whose mission was to conquer the North Pole but only finds their demented captain who now serves a race of tundra dwellin’ fish mutants he wants to escort back to England for a monstrous invasion. A subtle nod to Lovecraftian lore stuffily performed by obvious thespians of the stage, this is a solid creature feature period piece with a decent mix of characters, respectable set pieces, and okay monster suit actin’ that could stand to be a little more lively. The one sour that totally takes me outta the flick, however, is how unconvincin’ the North Pole is. These yahoos are supposedly huffin’ it through one of the coldest places on Earth while worryin’ ’bout frostbite, yet no one looks the slightest bit cold much less wearin’ gloves or pullin’ their jackets closed fer every bit of warmth they can get. I know the fish men chase ’em off their ship in a hurry, but any sane person who knew the dangers of the artic would still be grabbin’  a hat or some kinda protection ‘fore jumpin’ overboard into that unforgivin’ cold! Stickin’ folks full of dynamite, ancient Lovecraftian books, female stowaways, ship massacres, brawlin’ to accordion playin’, bullets to the head, automatic writin’, first person video game shootin’, leg bitin’, monstrous maulin’, bullet eatin’ suicides, hand severin’, flesh eatin’, monster blood in the eyes, bullets to the chest, and MacGuyvered musket defenses! 3/5! 


As soon as one of the last great horror actors, Conrad Razkoff, is laid to rest in his state-of-the-art mausoleum, a fan club of college film buffs steals his corpse and enjoys a Weekend at Bernie’s at his mansion ’til his angry spirit lashes out from hell to damn ’em all fer disturbin’ his eternal rest. A wacky idea fer a movie, this sucker keeps me on my toes with it zig zaggin’ all over the place, ’cause it has no idea what it wants to do. It starts off like Razkoff is plannin’ the greatest performance of his life with some psych-out death prank, but then turns into what I think is gonna be some fatal funeral trap he masterfully orchestrates from ‘yond the grave with the help of his lover. That expectation is quickly dismissed, however, as the story ‘comes this days long house party with his body ‘fore the filmmakers give up and have him suddenly return from hell to blast everybody in the last reel. Totally bonkers, and it doesn’t help the editin’ gets all kinds of confusin’ with the day and night shots leavin’ me to believe folks are up at all hours of the day for the unbelievable three to four days the students party with Razkoff’s meat suit. Tons of potential as a disasterpiece worthy of a better remake. Folks mashed by flyin’ coffins, pillow smotherin’, skylight smashin’, fatal gassin’, explodin’ coffins, video messages from ‘yond the grave, fatal freefalls, resurrections, waltzin’ with the dead, necro-mackin’, tongue rippin’, masquerade dinners, human matchsticks, impalin’ with crosses, grave robbin’, folks stuffed in an incinerator, and a decapitated Jeffrey Combs for bird food! 2/5!


A gang of astronauts escape an explodin’ space station on a ship they were repairin’ and find themselves at odds with a mouth breathin’ stowaway from Mars who turns ’em into lifeless husks in the engine room ’til the remainin’ crew learn to forgive the glowin’ e.t. puppet and help each other go their separate ways. Kind of like a lame Outer Limits version of a classic Star Trek plot, not a lot happens in this slow burn of a cheap sci-fi sleeper. The actin’ ain’t the best, the sets are few and simple, and while the special effects are respectable, the same handful of e.t. shots are lazily recycled to the point of me worryin’ I have a bad case of the deja vus. If you can last ’til the sitcomy endin’ with its comical attempt at tuggin’ at yer heart strings, you’ll be treated to one of the silliest theme songs ever committed to celluloid, “Crystal of a Star” by Indira Stefanianna (the original voice of Daphne from Scooby-Doo). Oxygen deprived massacres, e.t. spewin’ crystals, female voiced computers, funny little doors, long walks on Mars, lasers, pen light map chases, close-up blinkin’ galore, and goo spewin’ tentacle deaths! 2/5!


Hostile tentacles from space are thawin’ outta the ice near an arctic hole-in-the-wall town, and a rag tag gang of girls have to fight back ‘fore it wears their skins fer disguises to do —– somethin’. An overall solid flick with an interestin’ ‘nough premise ‘gainst some beautifully shot scenery, this e.t. thriller unfortunately suffers from a so-so acted ensemble of interchangeable characters with little to no distinction to ’em and a stagnant escalation of inconsistent danger compounded by laughable lack of tension. Once a little girl comes outta alien bear attack unscathed, I’m no longer invested in these gals’ safety, ’cause they seem pretty invincible compared to the adults gettin’ killed in the same type of attacks these young’ns are brushin’ off. Best part is how the girls never have an end game strategy for takin’ down these freaky lookin’ Leatherface contortionists but happily take credit fer their “defeat” after the mother e.t. peaces out on its own accord. Shootin’ at fake polar bear imposters, fox puppet attacks, e.t. possessed wildlife, offscreen gore, blood sprays, eye socket tentacles, borin’ adult parties vs lame house parties, floppy limb action sequences, and decapitatin’! 3/5! 

ZAPPER! (2023)

In a race fer ultimate power, a venomous gang of rival big wigs hire banana armed hit men called “zappers” to collect puzzle pieces in a high stakes game to obtain a longboard that can change their psychedelic world of seizure inducin’ rainbows for better or worse. Best described as Andy Warhol’s headfirst plunge into a black light poster of Adult Swim toons after downin’ a handful of acid dipped Skittles, this indie flick is a lot to take in. While the first few minutes feel a little amateur with an assault of style over substance, the story picks up steam after the first hired banana’s death and quickly develops into a fairly entertainin’ round robin of unconventional characters takin’ the audience through an unpredictable world of dinosaur filled bars, flyin’ heads, and weaponized food products. Experimental fun that never takes itself too seriously, this is a flick viewers won’t soon forget ’cause there’s nothin’ else out there like it! Laser firin’ bananas, explodin’ cans of soup, car wrecks, flashin’ light warnin’s, eye rocks, backstabbin’ galore, flyin’ clocks, electrocutin’, ambushin’ “moose” heads, laser pugs, hoola-hoop girls, skin carvin’,  drinkin’ hole massacres, doppelganger showdowns, toy boat smokin’, repurposed sculptures, and green screens galore! 3/5!


Some guy’s wife stumbles out of their hotel room to investigate a racket in the middle of the night and instantly regrets it as she’s endlessly chased by a possessed horse and a deformed Nazi dressed killer helpin’ his gypsy of a mama give his dullard sister’s hand away in marriage to a toothpaste vomitin’ mummy visitin’ from a toy boat buried in the nearby cliffs. This French flick is beyond ridiculous, Scream Freaks! There’s barely any dialogue, almost zero story save the legend of the monsters, amazingly drawn out death scenes characters will just spring back to life from, and some of the most shameless editin’ I’ve ever seen with endless shots of runnin’ horses, geezers shootin’, meanderin’ cats, and borin’ mountainsides mind numbingly recycled ‘gain and ‘gain to stretch the runtime to a scant hour fifteen minutes. There’s a few good laughs mind ya, like the wife accidentally fallin’ into an open grave or findin’ the strength to impale an attacker on a loose cemetery gate after she couldn’t shake their feeble grip off her boot, but they’re few and far ‘tween. Romantic daytime hikes with mummies, face rippin’, head peelin’, live burial attempts, swallowin’ grounds, scene stealin’ black goats, skippin’ victims, roadside massacres, stabbin’s galore, blood vomitin’ galore, cat footage galore, toy boats, human matchsticks, guts squeezed out like toothpaste, almost no shots shared by a actor and animal, and abysmal car stunts! 2/5!

CRABS (2021)

After rampant radiation in a coastal community mutates horseshoe crabs into killer puppets and kaiju suit actors, a genius cripple fights to keep his town at the top of the food chain with other high school outcasts who help him build a giant monster-mashin’ robot shark outta thin air. As fun and respectable as this comical creature feature is with its pleasant round-up of actors and charmin’ special effects, it’s stopped short of greatness by a wonky paced story with the occasional plot hole, sporadic spurts of escalated dangers, and stiff camerawork. The sour that bothers me most (other than underutilizin’ the amazin’ actin’ chops of Jessica Morris) is the conflictin’ brands of humor with the filmmakers tryin’ to make this a grounded chuckle like Gremlins (goin’ so far as even mirrorin’ scenes from that obvious influence) the same time they’re introducin’  slapstick nonsense like Better Off Dead (the whiz kid literally throwin’ hammers ’round his garage ’til the tech used in his robot legs is reconfigured into a big ass battle bot). Might work in more masterful hands, but not here. Bangin’ on the beach, face maulin’ with buckets of blood, blue blood gore, downtown massacres, Gremlins bar scene nods, human puppets, monstrous transformations, foreign exchange student warriors, dead cat dissectin’, black market power cores doublin’ fer lasers, short circuitin’ exo-frames, stoned monster sightin’s, garage massacres, mercy killin’s, and a brief prom scene stuck in the middle of the movie! 3/5! 

SCREAM 6 (2023)

Sam moves to the Big Apple to keep a protective eye on her sister and the rest of the survivors from the requel attendin’ their freshman year in college, but she learns no matter where she goes, she can’t escape her infamy as Billy Loomis’ daughter when a new team of vindictive Ghostface killers foolishly announce ’emselves as her soon-to-be executioners fer what happened in Woodsboro. Continuin’ the self-aware remake/sequel tropes begun in the last flick, the series now enters its franchise rules phase and treads familiar plot points from Scream 2. Less pretentious and contrived than the previous film, Scream 6 is a more enjoyable time reflectin’ on the series and its many slashers in Batman rogues gallery fashion with a nice mix of returnin’ characters from past movies keepin’ me on my toes for who’s a potential killer or victim, and the results are surprisin’ and disappointin’ all at once. The real sour fer me, though, is the reveal of the killer(s) which brings into question the physical power Ghostface displays when knockin’ big ass doors down or scarin’ an apartment full of abled bodied scaredy cats from easily takin’ ’em down in one collective swoop. After seein’ so many folks survive a bajillion stabbin’s already, what are they ‘fraid of? Serial killer shrines, murder weapon collections, disembowelin’, fatal freefalls from ladders, mouth stabbin’s, alleyway ambushes, refrigerated dismemberments, stabbin’s galore, home invadin’, bedroom massacres, shotguns to the face, convenient store massacres, mask clue crumbs, eye stabbin’, double team stabbin’s, TVs to the face, and reflective daddy visions! 3/5!


A high schooler named Tara learns she might be havin’ alotta violent thoughts ’cause she’s related to the infamous Lizzie Borden and hopes she’s not the one hackin’ folks up ’round town lately. The filmmakers obviously do their best to present a cinematic lookin’ movie with actors skilled ‘nough to carry this character driven horror, but the script and pacin’ miserably drag it all down to a lukewarm watch devoid of any urgency or tension. Instead of Tara rushin’ to discover the truth ’bout her twisted family lineage full of spooks or demons or whatever while desperately stayin’ a step ‘head of the cops suspectin’ her as a slasher, it feels like she has all the time in the world to figure out her situation without a single worry, makin’ fer a snooze of a watch. And even worse, this is set ’round Halloween which has no relevance to the plot whatsoever and even carries over into November. The hell?! Hackin’ galore, mental family members, nut house visits, family reunion seances, the Lizzie Borden House, supposed hauntin’ spectres, urges to kill babies, and shout out to Leslie Bibb whose performance breathed life back into this movie ‘fore the end credits! 2/5!


A soap opera’s mix of characters set sail on the high seas to Hawaii on a private boat, but one of the guests is havin’ ‘Nam flashbacks compellin’ ’em to kill everybody. More who’s doin’ it thriller than horror, this borderline slasher delivers the blood, boobs, and bush, but is a pretty humdrum sleeper that only keeps me engage with tryin’ to figure out everyone’s not-so-obvious relationship to each other. Like in the first scene, how am I supposed to tell the doctor’s talkin’ to his step daughter on the phone and not his sneaky wife when she’s gray haired and plottin’ his death with a would-be hit man she’s topless in bed with? Heroine injections, some of the fastest stranglin’ EVER committed to celluloid, more than likely illegal funerals at sea, folks riddled with bullets, stabbin’s, boobs and bush in the shower, mix messages from mental cases, boobs between the sheets, and naked defenses! 2/5! 


Lawmen, switch blade punks, and separated families won’t keep ’80s drug dealers from findin’ missin’ gym bags of cocaine in a Georgia state park, but things are more dangerous than they could imagine when a mama bear gets into their stash and tears through the woods in a coked out rage huntin’ fer meat and more booger sugar. Inspired by true events in the loosest way possible, this black comedy slasher of a creature feature just barely lives up to the hype its title generates. The cartoon bear effects ‘long with the pulse racin’ kills are phenomenal, but the majority of the flick is spent with these fragmented clicks of yahoos runnin’ ’round the park with differin’ agendas which makes things feel a little incohesive. Sure, these characters are likable and engagin’, but I just don’t find anyone as funny as the filmmakers obviously meant ’em to be. If there’s ever a sequel, I hope there’s more bear scenes and the comedy’s pushed a lot further. Disembowelin’, leg severin’ galore, road rash facials, ambulance massacres, hand severin’, car wreckin’, head explodin’, ass bitin’, coke eatin’, maulin’ galore, tree climbin’, human road kill, bullets to the gut, finger severin’, restroom beat downs, bear cub beatin’, waterfall jumpin’, accidental hangin’, candy stealin’, fatal sky divin’, ranger station massacres, and coke snortin’ galore! 3/5! 


Police review confusin’ found footage of a missin’ gang of yahoos shootin’ an indie music video in the California desert ‘fore mysterious sounds of thunder lead to ’em bein’ mutilated by unexplained forces of a bullshit nature. This is one of the toughest flicks I’ve ever made myself sit through. While it has a semi-coherent start with a bare bones story that unfortunately lacks any characters worth investin’ in much less root fer, its second half is an experience best described as tryin’ to watch a movie through a bag over your head with a pin hole while some loon beats you with a whiffle ball bat to curb their desire to yodel in a kiddie pool full of spaghetti. It’s just relentless nonsense that’s the furthest thing from scary much less entertainin’ as our leadin’ nobody runs ’round in the buff while drenched in blood and dodgin’ the occasional special effect tentacle, all the while capturin’ shitty footage fer no good reason on a camera with infinite battery life. And as if the meaningless finale doesn’t suck ‘nough without any answers fer what I had to endure, the filmmakers add salt to my war wounds with their final guy cuttin’ his dick off fer the sheer hell of it in graphic detail ‘fore the credits roll. This ain’t a film. This is a leftover from one of ’em art installation shows with abstract images playin’ ‘cross a maze of bedsheets. If it weren’t for the somewhat competent use of a camera, I’d give this the lowest score I could. Eerie 911 calls, decapitated heads on sticks, maybe aliens fer all I know, tentacle creatures, some kinda cave monster, mysterious axes, and shadowy figures! 2/5!

FLOAT (2022)

A rocky gang of friends rally fer their annual intertube float down a river to spread their dead pal’s ashes and quickly regret laughin’ off the world’s creepiest groundskeeper’s vague warnin’ of an evil waitin’ to get ’em in the water. Easily one of the dumbest flicks I’ve ever seen, this sucker looks great and sports some decent actin’ but suffers from a terrible script. For starters, the filmmakers never explain what this “evil” in the water is. Somethin’ attacks folks throughout the movie, but it’s never seen or heard, and the fella who’s hellbent on protectin’ this one handful of yahoos fer some reason refuses to give up any explanation fer what it is or where it comes from. The spooked floaters have their own ideas they’re bein’ attacked by their dead buddy’s ghost, but that never weaves into the story in any way that makes sense. All that combined with everyone’s personal dramas that go nowhere, folks’ bafflin’ placid reactions to some pretty intense moments, and the sequence of actions and decision makin’ that separates the group is both comical and frustratin’ fer those of us with common sense. Skip. POV influencer shots, folks impaled on branches, kidnappin’, tripped up head knockin’ on rocks, gooey head smashin’, and ghosts! 2/5! 


A topless gal and her greedy husband are on a treasure hunt fer a fortune hidden somewhere in her dead aunt’s mansion she inherited, but auntie’s garish ghost ‘long with a buncha weirdo squatters with death certificates have other sinister plans in mind fer ’em. A slow European burn with some laughable actin’ from its leadin’ lady, this sucker downplays auntie’s supernatural scares in favor of more slasher themed action from the freeloadin’ tenants and with a pinch of whodunnit twists to keep things interestin’. Only serious sours worth mentionin’ is the suicide initiation into the homebound cult of walkin’ relics gettin’ too convoluted fer me to follow and the resurrection stuff not makin’ a lick o’ sense in the grand scheme of things. A borderline dud that barely manages to provide heckle worthy entertainment fer a slow night. Monoxide poisonin’, private strings concert massacres, weaponized blind sticks, stabbin’s galore, throat slittin’, goofy faces galore, Nazis, immortal cults, bangin’ ‘tween the sheets with boobs, boobs in the tub, boobs in the pool, psych-out deaths, topless chases, attack dogs, resurrections, turncoat lovers, car wrecks, dark magic assassins, and nonsense cliffhanger endin’s! 2/5! 


Motivated by a shared vision of doomsday, four strangers hogtie a gay couple vacationin’ at a remote cabin and do their best to convince one of ’em to sacrifice himself to prevent the end of days as apocalyptic events unfold on TV with each kidnapper’s supposedly prophetic death. A pretty straight forward end of days flick without any surprisin’ twists or turns, this ain’t one of director M. Night Shyamalan’s best. While there’s technically an escalation of pendin’ doom worldwide, there ain’t alotta tension once it’s established the home invadin’ fanatics are forbidden to hurt the couple and then systematically kill themselves without hesitation. Things would be waaay more suspenseful if there was a desperate wildcard ‘mong the strangers while the plaques hit closer to their location sooner, but the best the filmmakers can do is make us doubt the holy mission fer a mere second when it’s revealed the couple share a backstory with one of their captors that goes absolutely nowhere. Window smashin’, head injuries, bullets to the chest, head smashin’, tsunamis, fallin’ planes, earthquakes, throat slittin’, pandemic diseases, fires, and lightnin’! 3/5! 


Two young’ns randomly find themselves stuck in their dark house after the windows and doors to outside vanish and fiddle fart ’round wonderin’ where their parents are. This artsy fartsy nonsense has its head so far up its own ass, it’s a classic case of the emperor’s new clothes ‘mong pretentious critics praisin’ it fer its heady approach to deliverin’ cinematic chills. This would work as an experimental short film, but as a full length feature showcasin’ endless shots of shadow saturated walls and ceilings with nothin’ but feet and the back of folks’ heads from time to time as antique toons play in the background is maddenin’ and had me fast-forwardin’ to the end to find out there’s no punch line. Only thang you’ll see worth a damn is a second of a deformed young’n! 1/5!

THE LAIR (2022)

A British fighter pilot is shot down by hostiles in Afghanistan and stumbles ‘cross an abandoned Soviet lab full of monstrous super soldiers crossed with alien DNA she needs the help of an American military post to destroy. A fairly impressive flick with notable nods to John Carpenter’s The Thing, this creature feature boasts ‘nough sweets from its top shelf special effects to its entertainin’ mix of conflictin’ characters fightin’ it out through thoughtfully paced action sequences, but some unknown X factor I can’t quite put my finger on barely prevents it from bein’ somethin’ great. Some critics might pin that on the actors’ gut bustin’ attempts at American accents that sound like poor impressions of Matthew McConaughey and Forrest Gump, but I think it’s the cinematography needin’ to be more creative by just one notch. Plane crashes, parachutin’, human shields, shoot ’em ups galore, monstrous invasions, face rippin’, kleptos, e.t. dissectin’, u.f.o. cover-ups, gut yankin’, explosions, elevator shaft chasin’, car wreckin’, clip art bombs, supposed fish monsters, mad lab massacres, explosive sacrificin’, monstrous tongue lashin’, drain crawlin’, and decapitatin’! 3/5! 


Against all better judgement, a gal who can see dead people is pressured by her schemin’ brother to perform one of their bogus paranormal investigations for an ol’ woman haunted by dead kids, but things turn nasty when their team of con artists realize their client’s the one who killed ’em. An all ’round decent supernatural flick, this sucker maintains a slow and steady pace but keeps me mildly engage thanks to the actin’. The only sours I have an issue with are how some of the events frustratingly unfold throughout the movie from the investigators’ poorly planned attacks ‘gainst their aggressors to the ridiculous car crash durin’ a near escape that’s the vehicle equivalent of a slasher’s victim constantly fallin’ down durin’ a chase. Mouth sewin’, shovel whackin’, knife whackin’, ghost young’ns, spectral shriekin’, car wrecks, nose bleedin’, bookie beat-downs, kidnappin’, torture basements, and geezer roadkill! 3/5! 

SICK (2022)

Two college gals decide to hunker down in a remote getaway durin’ the height of COVID, but the virus ain’t their only problem when masked killers break-in fer what they believe are justified motives. The thinnest of plots without much of a story featurin’ a buncha flat characters, this is more or less an hour and a half of mildly grippin’ Tom and Jerry antics leadin’ up to a pandemic themed twist that musta inspired this whole thing. Not a terrible flick by any means, but nothin’ special either. Boy toy impalin’, throat slittin’, sneaky home invaders, head bashin’, neck stabbin’, human matchsticks, leg breakin’, car wreckin’, and knock-out face diapers! 3/5!


A car full of yahoos head to a remote cabin to ring in the New Year, but when the power’s taken out by a bone chillin’ winter storm, one of ’em convinces the rest they gotta stay awake or possibly die in their sleep from hypothermia which leads to fatal hallucinations as the temperature drops. This is one of the dumbest flicks I’ve ever seen. There’s nothin’ unnatural ’bout the weather, there’s no Shyamalama-ding-dong twist with fucked up scientist behind some experiment . . . this is literally ’bout stupid people actin’ like they’ve been dropped in the middle of the Artic and takin’ the worst advice possible from someone whose expertise is never challenged. The most confusin’ part is when some folks start thinkin’ they’ve been infected by bad snow when nothin’s happen to make ’em think such a thing. I know there’s some radio blip ’bout a virus in the first reel, but it never comes to factor into their situation. Well . . . not in a sensible way at least. Bad decisions in spades, freezin’ showers, handsy hallucinations, gut carvin’, snow vomitin’, hand roastin’, snowman terrors, and bare ass corpse-cicles! 2/5!  


In this absolutely pointless sequel to a remake no one asked fer, it’s been a year since a college Halloween party derailed into a bloodbath on a train, and the infamous survivors are ready to put the past behind ’em and ring in the New Year on that same locomotive, never suspectin’ a new party crasher is lookin’ to slash ’em all. I’m at a loss fer words why this flick exists. I can see a loose sequel featurin’ a different slasher on a different train with different characters, but to swallow the idea so many of the survivors from the first movie would put themselves in the exact same traumatizin’ situation is just too ridiculous. Even worse, this ain’t any better than the first flick, hittin’ most the same who-dunnit beats full of forgettable kills. Watch it if yer a die-hard fan or that movie buff that’s gotta see everythin’, otherwise, ya might wanna skip this cinematic oddity. Few costumes, murder fans, bad card tricks, livestreamin’ stabbin’s, corpse hidin’, intestine pullin’ with a stick, and lotta offscreen kills! 3/5! 


An earthquake in the California desert traps a cop under a car in a inescapable shed on Thanksgivin’, but while his predicament develops into delusional daddy issues right out of a soap opera, poisonous creepy crawlies are climbin’ up from underground to have him fer lunch. More family drama than monster movie, I appreciate the filmmakers doin’ their best to keep things interestin’ on an emotional level, but I really think more time should have been spent on fightin’ the hand puppet creatures and comin’ up with better reasons than a jammed door to keep this yahoo from runnin’ fer safety once he’s out from under the car. And what the hell with that open’ nightmare of the cop bein’ attacked by the creatures when he didn’t know they existed yet? Was that a recycled deleted scene or somethin’?! Dead puppers, crushed “uncles,” pulsatin’ bite wounds, growin’ discoveries, and bright light defenses! 3/5!


Found footage horror presented as a documentary, a handful of folks painfully drag their feet spillin’ the beans on a missin’ survivalist they learn was really the victim of a deformed hermit in the mountains he sought out for his video blog. Decent filmmakin’ with a believable cast of narrators dishin’ the blow by blow on the fella’s disappearance, this flick really takes its time to escalate what little tension there is for a last minute payoff that just ain’t worth the wait. And where the hell’s the desert? Gift bags with severed hands, drone footage galore, laughable ignorance, toy train enthusiasts, night vision games of cat and mouse! 2/5! 

X (2022)

After seein’ a buncha amateur filmmakers make a porno on her farm, a livin’ wrinkle of a hag ‘comes so sexually frustrated when no one will bang her, she goes on the warpath to catch their breakout talent fer her own sick pleasure while killin’ her horned up co-stars. A wildly absurd premise shot in all seriousness, this sucker has to be seen to disbelieve, Scream Freaks! For such a graphic subject matter, things surprisingly remain tasteful throughout with just ‘nough visual blips and hints to get the intended gist ‘cross, and it’s a fun toss up ‘tween laughs and sheer skin crawlin’ moments of “Eeeeewwww!” Nail impaled feet, eye stabbin’s with pitchforks, backlit dongs, gators, stabbin’s galore, full frontal carcasses, basement dungeons, shotgun blasts to the face, hip breakin’, heart attacks, wrinkle on wrinkle action ‘tween the sheets, submerged cars, surprise snuggle buddies in bed, hand smashin’, head crushin’, and major kudos to Mia Goth fer playin’ the slasher AND the last girl which may be a first! 4/5!

PEARL (2022)

Learn the tragic origins of X‘s killer wrinkle and see the homicidal lengths Pearl takes to escape her life on the family farm in 1918 whether that be by hostile affairs of the heart or throat slittin’ dance competitions. The prequel no one saw comin’, this inappropriately chucklin’ homage to early 20th century movies does a great job bein’ a stand alone watch without its viewers needin’ to know anythin’ ’bout the nutty events in X. Mia Goth is front and center throughout, deliverin’ a character driven smorgasbord of a performance that brilliantly gives me mixed feelin’s fer Pearl as an underdog dreamer with a twisted soul I sympathize fer and am disgusted by at the same time. A unique breed of horror, Pearl has a permanent residence in my noodle forever and always now. Slowly rottin’ pig dinners, suffocatin’, human matchsticks, stabbin’s galore, antique skin flicks, severed head flingin’, bodily dismemberin’ with an axe, duck killin’, gator feedin’, scarecrow humpin’, dead dinner parties, and one of the longest most painful smiles EVER committed to celluloid! 4/5!


Two hungry country singers callin’ themselves Torn Hearts think they’re one diddy away from stardom if they can convince the remainin’ star of their favorite sister act to come outta retirement and sing a tune with ’em but quickly regret this genius plan as their hard drinkin’ recluse of a hero proves she ain’t playin’ with a full deck on account of her siblin’s suspicious demise. Well acted and shot, this flick watches like a longwinded Tales From the Crypt episode but not quite as fun. The story hooks me with all its thoughtful dynamics as the demented country legend projects her twisted sense of companionship and atonement on Torn Hearts, slowly unravelin’ their quiet drama to the point of ’em throwin’ down like dirty fightin’ alley cats, but the tension feels stuck in second gear most the time ‘stead of givin’ me more dramatic peaks and valleys to keep things interestin’. Tap tap tappin’ GALORE, shotgun firin’ runarounds, liquor guzzlin’, fucked up mind games, pickled body part shrines, severed finger escapes, shotguns to the back, bullets to the chest, neck stabbin’s, and a terrific performance by Katey Sagal as the psycho country star! 3/5!

THE MENU (2022)

Chef Slowik is the epitome of fine cookin’ but has unfortunately lost his passion thanks to the dinin’ experience bein’ ruined by pretentious food critics and passive eaters. Ready to check out of his misery with his cult of line cooks behind him, he invites the worst of these clueless foodies to his private island’s restaurant to serve an ironic menu of just desserts, but one unexpected guest is becomin’ the fly in his soup. The best kind of absurd comedy that surprisingly has nothin’ to do with cannibalism, this wonderfully tense flick is like Chef Gordon Ramsey ‘comin’ a Tick villain with revenge schemes inspired by Midsommar. I’m never quite sure what’s gonna happen next, I can’t get ‘nough of Ralph Fiennes squarin’ off with Anya Taylor-Joy, and I’m scared into an all new appreciation fer anyone servin’ me my grub. Chef kisses all ’round! Garnished bullet eatin’ suicides, hangin’ suicides, finger severin’, neck stabbin’, breadless bread plates, infernos, psych-out coast guards, coal grabbin’, human matchsticks, leg stabbin’s, birthday singin’, games of chase, s’mores themed finales, and cheeseburger ploys! 4/5! 


Did ya know Edgar Allan Poe was in the military fer a hot minute? He simply walked away from it, but this flick gives history a kick in the ass in the name of entertainment and spins yarn ’bout our favorite emo poet bein’ court-martialed ’cause he defied orders while rescuin’ a suspicious hole in the wall town from the terror of a dark supernatural entity known as the Raven. While this sucker’s a little slow fer my taste and unravels a bit of a convoluted mystery I can’t completely follow, it’s still a quality flick from its period production value to its consistently grim atmosphere and stark imagery. Make a drinkin’ game out of all the nods to Poe’s work you can find from the Tell Tale Heart to the The Fall of the House of Usher. Disemboweled sacrifices, scarecrow offerin’s, CGI vomitin’, blood ‘n guts altars, evil doppelgangers, stabbin’s, raven monsters, monstrous transformations, hide-n-seek corpses, bodily explodin’, folks eaten by pigs off screen, and Opium drinkin’ defenses to see through dark magic! 3/5! 

SPIDERS (2000)

A gang of e.t. obsessed college rag reporters have the story of the century drop in their lap when a wrecked space shuttle leads ’em to an underground government bunker full of men in black desperately tryin’ to wrangle giant mutant spiders lookin’ to impregnate folks. Produced by one of my favorite monster movie studios, Nu Image, this is B grade goodness hittin’ on all pistons with sweet practical and CGI effects by the mad geniuses at KNB EFX. I think the last girl’s instant transformation from meekish truth-seeker to fist slingin’ badass is a bit startlin’, and the action in the bunker with the soldiers drags a bit, but it’s all worth the wild conclusion as the eight legged mutie “Mother-In-Law” makes an unforgettable comeback invadin’ a nearby city! Lotta fatal spider bites, regenerattin’ men in black, spider web traps, elevator shaft action sequences, brawlin’ in unexplained pools of what I assume is toxic waste, graphic swellin’, spaceship crashin’, bullets to the head, big-ass spiders crawlin’ outta mouths, bazookas, explosions, some of the funniest scenes of panicked crowds ever committed to celluloid, supposed e.t. visitors, pickled body parts, helicopter action, and monstrous transformations! 4/5!

SPIDERS 2 (2001)

After a stranded couple at sea are rescued by a passin’ vessel, the husband begs his dismissive wife to acknowledge the danger they’re in as he figures out he’s bein’ prepped by the ship’s mad scientist to be an incubator fer mutant spider pups. More gas lightin’ drama than big-ass spider action, this ain’t a bad flick by any means, but suffers from not meetin’ my expectations set by the first fast paced flick. The wife’s unbelievable behavior keeps me invested with her refusin’ to listen to her husband’s sensible concerns all the while she flirts with the captain ’til he gets too handsy, but I wish the filmmakers would breakout the mutant spiders sooner than the last little chunk of the movie. Kidnappin’ on the high seas, ghost ships, boat invadin’ massacres, foam droolin’, chest burstin’ spider babies, lotta needles, neck sewin’, face clawin’, practical puppets effects, CGI critters, ship sinkin’, spear chuckin’, flammin’ arachnids, helicopter rescues, pincers through the chest, flamethrowers, and Richard Moll as the mad doctor! 3/5! 


Some yahoo disturbs an old ass altar in a cave that awakens a buncha impressive lookin’ demons who supposedly kill him, but he springs back to life with annoyin’ flashbacks to the demons’ origin story Bill Shatner says can only be stopped if the yahoo takes his wife and kids on a family road trip back to the cave to retrieve a demon catchin’ relic. A perfect example of how a top shelf lookin’ flick is only as good as its script, this is a dumpster fire of a story. Characters are introduced and developed with no gravity, the threat the demons pose ain’t all that obvious with kills that lack any rhyme or reason, and why the hell is the family actin’ like they’re goin’ on some honky dory treasure hunt when they know they’re descendin’ into the bowels of the Earth to confront an army of savage demons responsible fer slaughterin’ entire civilizations?! This bullshit kinda makes sense with the twist endin’ bein’ this is all an illusion the demons play on the yahoo when they kill him, but that just means the filmmakers wasted my time. Keep an eye out fer a crazy lookin’ sculpture on some stairs that steals the movie, and prepare to bust a gut when Shatner seriously says, “It’s Hallo-fuckin’-ween!” 2/5!


In this Giallo wannabe, a columnist is too busy worryin’ ’bout threatenin’ letters in the mail and bangin’ her cheatin’ rich therapist to notice the gals in her therapy group are bein’ killed by a scissor wieldin’ murderer. This is one of ’em flicks if I didn’t read the synopsis first, I might have never understood the whole support group murder angle, ’cause the only time they’re together is the openin’ hot tub scene. After that, they’re practically strangers with no one talkin’ to each, especially after one or more of ’em is killed. It’s a hot mess with alotta questionable plot points but has ‘nough heckle fodder fer a fun watch with fellow film buffs. Fall apart houses, dirt road chases, face slashin’, garage door corpses, awkward daddy-daughter peek-a-boo shows, unhinged teeny boppers, awkward dinners, attempted suicides with the car runnin’, strip teases, backstage stripper humpin’, and the usual weirdo performance by Klaus Kinski as the therapist! 2/5!

THE TOWER (1993)

A starvin’ musician gives corporate life a chance as the newest desk jockey in an AI ran skyscraper, but after his bumblin’ racks up one too many security risks, the super sensitive system targets him for literal termination. Starrin’ Paul Reiser as the unexpected action star comically runnin’ and jumpin’ from one blue screen death scenario to the next, this TV flick is a decent watch with some genuine energy behind its production. It has as much plot as young’ns fiddle fartin’ ’round a playground, the emotional depth of an early MTV music video, and no satisfyin’ explanation fer why the AI’s built to actually kill things (just what the hell is it protectin’ and from what exactly?), but it keeps a fast pace with a modest body count. Explodin’ saunas, deep freezin’ temperatures, bowlin’ fer exits, suck and blow ventilation traps, crushin’ elevator doors, window washin’ gondola rides, window smashin’ galore, fires, elevator shaft hoppin’, and computer hackin’! 3/5!


An annoyed publisher finds out an author he paid an advance to write a book on debunkin’ the supernatural has disappeared, and all that’s left is his collection of tapes dictatin’ a case involvin’ a rich gal’s reanimated husband killin’ folks from beyond the grave to summon a demon fer immortality. A fairly entertainin’ TV flick with more booga boos than expected, the biggest sour I have with this sucker is its indifferent hero, Norliss, who never has the reaction I’d expect fer someone whose finally encounterin’ paranormal activity he can’t chalk up to simple parlor tricks. Always cool, calm, and collected, even when carryin’ out questionable tactics ‘gainst demons and the undead, his rattled decision makin’ to disappear at the beginnin’ of the flick outta shock doesn’t make a lick o’ sense after seein’ how he effortlessly handles himself throughout the case. There’s other little issues I have with the story like some of the rich gal’s bafflin’ decision makin’, but I can forgive alotta that thanks to such memorable monsters tearin’ through the small screen. Flamin’ blood circles, crypts, fatal grave robbin’, window breakin’ ambushes, bloody clay sculptin’, demonic art, cursed rings, hoodoo ladies, dark and stormy nights, walkin’ dead, puppers killed in action, car manglin’, underworld bargainin’, and chases through secret tunnels! 3/5!


In what could be mistaken fer a really long joke of a phone commercial, Satanists in a small town are conspirin’ to find and sacrifice a pure soul at a Christmas craft fair to call forth their dark lord, but there’s holy rollin’ pastors, spiritualists, and hippies doin’ their best to prevent that without havin’ to leave the house. Low budget filmmakin’ at its lowest, this is a gruelin’ 70 minutes of close-ups on folks readin’ their lines while on the phone with other characters. Zero character buildin’, barely any Christmas much less a craft fair, and ‘lotta scenes that go nowhere with a Michael Myers wannabe henchmen hackin’ folks up, gals huntin’ auras at the mall with a magnifyin’ glass, and cartoon ghosts tryin’ to progress the story. While the filmmakers do questionably deliver the “massacre” in the title, it’s just a graphic of a mushroom cloud I think the heroes are responsible fer which is pretty fucked up. Avoid at all cost! 1/5!  


Linda Blair’s teeny bopper life is turned upside down with break-ups, bad skin, and animals behavin’ badly after her recently orphaned cousin moves in with her family, leavin’ her to suspect she may very well be a bitch of a witch needin’ to be outted ‘fore it’s too late. This ain’t the most excitin’ thing director Wes Craven’s ever made, but it’s got ‘nough goin’ for it to be entertainin’ to say the least. The hex castin’ houseguest keeps me on my toes with her slowly turnin’ the family ‘gainst one ‘nother, I’m rootin’ fer Linda every time somebody dismisses her claims of supernatural forces at work, and I’ll be damned if Craven didn’t pull out all the stops with a sweet finale featurin’ a race with a spell slingin’ witch endin’ in asphalt tearin’ mayhem! Cliff jumpin’ wrecks, switcheroo identities, dark room brawlin’, hexin’ galore, hives, horses put down, seduced elders, mind controllin’, witch experts, magical long range attacks, and magical motorin’! 3/5!


To pass the time durin’ a holiday road trip with his wife, a yahoo suspiciously recounts the detailed history of a local backwoods psycho who killed folks while dressed as Santa. Featurin’ the hallmarks of a homemade horror flick from bad actin’ to low-def audio/video quality as well as pissin’ time to boot of characters aimlessly wanderin’ the boonies, this cheap holiday slasher still manages to impress me with good editin’, noticeable attempts at cinematic camerawork, and thoughtfully laid music tracks. The story structure’s wonky but forgivable, and I can’t help but wonder if this is the director’s first time workin’ with naked gals given how laughably long he lingers on ’em in their birthday suits. Tom and Jerry antics in a junkyard, vehicular breakdowns, stabbin’s in the back, gift wrapped body parts, lingerie dancin’, close ups of pierced body parts, boobs in the shower, throat slashin’, miniature house infernos, Santa killin’, machete slashin’, young’n killin’, home invadin’, drownin’, unnecessary self sacrificin’, weaknesses fer Silent Night Holy Night, interrogatin’, and the most ridiculously longwinded death of a gal reconnecting a landline phone ’til her dyin’ breath! 2/5! 


Visitin’ her boyfriend’s redneck family in the boonies on Christmas Eve, a big city gal’s bitten by a cartoon deer she offers a a bite of her candy bar to, and presto chango — turns into a killer deer woman needin’ to slap fight every backwoods hick to death. This is borderline so-bad-it’s-good entertainment with barely ‘nough DIY filmmakin’ charm to compensate fer its iffy audio, poor actin’, and uninspired camerawork. Kudos, however, to a coherent script with actual character, a few chuckle worthy moments with the Big Foot obsessed cousin, and a damn impressive make-up job fer the girlfriend turned two-legged reindeer. It’s just too bad more isn’t done with her beyond her slap happy ambushes when things finally ramp up the last half hour of the flick. Eggnog beer, disembowelin’ galore, monstrous off camera transformations, cursed deer played by stock nature footage collections and CGI stunt doubles, Play-Doh head smashin’, ass crack, and weaponized Santa statues! 2/5!


A fruitcake of a German soldier from the 1800s ‘comes a die-hard fan of the Nutcracker ballet and somehow ties his soul to a larger than life nutcracker after scarfin’ down jewels from Hell (. . . okay . . .). Over a hundred years later, he’s supernaturally reactivated at Christmas by a nutcracker enthusiast with unclear motivations and ruins a family’s holiday get together as he slays ’em in search of his fantasized betrothed. A lukewarm novelty horror at best, this flick has ‘nough characters and plot to be a decent watch, but it’s constantly trippin’ over its boots with some of the most convoluted expositions I’ve ever had the displeasure followin’ in order to understand why the nutcracker’s guttin’ folks in semi-creative ways. I’m still at a loss fer what the shop keeper’s role is in all this, and a little more baffled the filmmakers went with a rubber Halloween mask for their mon-star of a Nutcracker ‘stead of a resin or fiberglass head. Throat stabbin’ with icicles, human size gifts, stranglin’ with Christmas lights, stomach slicin’, eye gougin’, faces full of candy canes, longwinded story tellin’, sugarplum fairy switcheroos, weaponized tree toppers, and yes — one graphic close-up of a fella gettin’ his nuts cracked off! 3/5! 


War machines are recycled into storefront robo-Santas, and one toy shop’s malfunctionin’ St. Nick spontaneously goes on the warpath Christmas Eve, leavin’ a buncha mutilated yokels in its wake as it singles out two record store rockers to cross off its shit list. All flash — no spirit. This holiday themed nod to the Terminator goes all in on some impressive special effects and action sequences bathed in garish Yuletide colors, but fails miserably at tellin’ an actual story with any character development, set-ups, or suspense. Everyone solely exists to be a flat spectacle of a forgettable victim whose demise at the hands of a poorly introduced threat means jack shit to the overall plot (what little there is) much less any other character. Despite all the shortcomin’s in the script department, however, Riley Dandy still manages to steal the show playin’ top boss bitch Tori, a last girl I’d definitely want in my corner when the holidays go to hell! Sprinkler defenses, electrocutions, lazy robo-Santa POV, car explosions, head splittin’, axe attackin’, dirty deeds on Santa’s throne without boobs, home invadin’, longwinded ramblin’ and drinkin’, curb stompin’, cunnilingus, horror movie talk, neck snappin’, young’n killin’, police station massacres, toy store massacres, and finger choppin’! 2/5!


After his witchy lover accidentally botches a resurrection spell and traps his murderous soul in a Christmas tree, Clayton Slayter uses his newfound powers as a Yuletide decoration to crash a Christmas Eve party and exact revenge on the girl responsible fer sendin’ him to the hot seat. While this sucker should be as fun as watchin’ the killer snowman in Jack Frost, it unfortunately spends most its runtime hangin’ out with a forgettable she-pack of gals exposition dumpin’ their clunky backstories over alotta lazy camerawork. The filmmakers probably felt they needed to skirt the killer tree scenes ’cause of all the cheesefest CGI and one note kills, but Clayton proves to be the movie’s most compellin’ character I wanna watch after seein’ him lose his loyal arm candy in the first reel. Fatal impalin’ with branches, extend-o limbs, stranglin’ with Christmas lights, throat slittin’, home invadin’ flashback kills, accidental slayin’s, neck wound pokin’, bafflin’ mulligans, and magical tree on tree violence! 3/5! 


An atomic age community’s livin’ the American dream in a private desert town, but one little housewife suspects her men’s magazine lifestyle ain’t all it’s cracked up to be when supposed hallucinations challenge her sanity and sense of freewill. An overall solid flick with lotta Mid-century modern eye candy poppin’ off the screen from its magazine spread sets to the picturesque costumes, the plot is where this lukewarm gaslight of a mystery stumbles. The equivalent of throwin’ Pleasantville, Stepford Wives, and The Matrix with a pinch of The Village in a blender, this sucker’s reminiscent of so many other flicks, I wasn’t so much invested in the last girl’s struggle as I was just waitin’ to see which of the big twists I predicted would end the movie. What I didn’t see comin’, however, is how many plot holes the twist would bring, leavin’ me with a sour aftertaste thinkin’ through how absurd the measures are for keepin’ this charade of a lifestyle up. Saran wrapped heads, plane crashes, desert hikin’, throat slittin’, fatal freefalls, explodin’ car crashes, kidnappin’, showboatin’ work events, electro shock therapies, tremors, awkward dinner parties, stabbin’s, and cunnilingus! 3/5!

THE CAVE (2005)

A gang of professional explorers are hired to research a newly discovered ecosystem miles beneath the Carpathian Mountains, but they’re caught ‘tween a rock and hell when they encounter previous spelunkers who were mutated into flesh eatin’ monsters by microscopic parasites. A visually impressive creature feature with a top shelf budget, this sucker’s more Hollywood action than nail bitin’ horror. It skimps on the important stuff like character development and suspenseful storytellin’ in favor of fast pace edits and well lit scenes, and tells a pretty half-baked story that’s confusin’ as all hell when I try to think through the whole parasite plot. Underwater dragon serpents, albino moles, firey deaths, free hangin’ sacrifices, gut chompin’, cave-ins, explosions, scuba divin’, rock climbin’, rappellin’, folks impaled on stalagmites, clawin’, sound pulse defenses, sonar huntin’, super hearin’, and monstrous transformations! 3/5!

TERRIFIER 2 (2022)

Art the Clown pulls a Lazarus in the morgue and cleans himself up in time for next Halloween to stalk and violently mutilate a gang of teenage gals, one of which is experiencin’ some kinda psychic connection with him to no real avail. All slaughter, little substance, Art continues his silver screen carnage with the faintest thread of a storyline from All Hallows’ Eve to now, is still as mysterious as ever, and refuses to follow movie rules of any kind. Even more complexin’ is the addition of a creepy sidekick in the form of a bugged eyed girl who might or might not be there whose role in the film can’t be explained in the two and a half hours the filmmakers spend tellin’ a story with a remarkably bare bones plot. Aside from the flick givin’ horror fans some of the most gut wrenchin’ kills ever committed to celluloid, it deserves major kudos fer featurin’ a phenomenal performance by Lauren LaVera as Sienna, Art’s newest target dressed as a badass angel fer Halloween. Tough and compellin’, I haven’t been this impressed with a last girl since the stereotype shatterin’ performance in You’re Next. Head smashin’, acid attacks, face meltin’, crushed chests, table leg clubs full o’ nails, fireproof daggers, longwinded dream sequence massacres, impaled heads, face rippin’, stabbin’s galore, dancin’ on Molly, fairground showdowns, scalpin’, gouged eye pokin’, Achilles tendon bitin’, finger bitin’, scalpel swipin’ galore, home invadin’, trick or treatin’, mannequin disguises, explodin’ heads, shotguns to the face, dead critter pokin’, kidnappin’, voice imitatin’, home made cat o’ nine tail whippin’, dick severin’, booger sugar, home fires, car vandalizin’, and one of the weirdest paranormal births in a mental institution! 3/5!


Marlon Wayans unknowingly moves his family to a holiday obsessed town and accidentally brings everyone’s Halloween decorations to life after he and his daughter unleash the vengeance seekin’ spirit of a legendary asshole the town lynched forever ago named Stingy Jack. A more epic version of Spirit Halloween on a Netflix budget, this by the numbers family flick boasts an impressive production from its lavishly decorated sets to its pleasin’ aesthetics, but unfortunately flops where it matters most — its characters. Capable actors are given decent ‘nough material to entertain me as a root worthy family confrontin’ the fantastic, but somethin’s off with their screen chemistry that makes poignant moments feel hollow and artificial, leavin’ me pretty indifferent to their supernatural plight. If ya can overlook that and the logic behind just how much the decorations are comin’ to life, it’s still a fun little watch. Skeleton football players, rubber bats, animatronic zombies, arm bitin’, 2D cats, rubber spiders of various sizes, cursed jack-o-lanterns, portals to hell, possessin’ galore, spell books, pumpkin mobiles, town square chaos, skeleton pranks, bad bakin’, pumpkin headed booga boos, and science nerd defenses! 3/5! 


An adventurer fools her thrill seekin’ gal pals into explorin’ a new cave system that’s opened up in the Appalachian Mountains, and after a cave-in takes ’em by surprise, they’re forced to fight their way out through a feral community of underground humanoids who hunt by sound. All ’round solid filmmakin’, this flick works on two levels. First, as a disaster flick with these spelunkers squeezin’ their asses through some frightfully claustrophobic nooks and crannies. Then, as a balls to the wall monster movie with the discovery of the sightless creatures lookin’ fer a warm meal they can tear into with the table manners of a Tasmanian devil. The most fun I have watchin’ this as a horror fan, however, is debatin’ the ethics and moralities over Juno and Sarah’s fight to be the last girl. They both commit questionable acts throughout the story, but I feel Juno’s just desserts are pretty unjustified compared to the irredeemable decision Sarah makes ‘fore the credits roll. Monkey bar climbin’, throat slashin’, disembowelin’, fatal car wrecks, hidey hole escapes, animal bones galore, dead and bloated critters, leg breakin’, axe fightin’, impaled necks, neck rippin’, euthanasia, literal blood baths, leg stabbin’s, and white water raftin’! 4/5! 


The police are searchin’ the Appalachian Mountains fer the first movie’s gang of missin’ spelunkers, and when they find Sarah rattled with trauma induced amnesia, they drag her back underground to look fer her friends ‘fore she can remember to warn ’em ’bout those underdwellin’ killin’ machines she just escaped. If ya don’t mind the filmmakers fudgin’ the timeline and other minor details while givin’ characters alotta weird motives, this is an alright follow-up to Sarah and Juno’s continuin’ fight fer survival as frenemies. While I don’t think this sucker’s as good as the first, it has its memorable moments. What other horror movie features its monster takin’ a steamin’ shit on a last girl? And I can’t stop laughin’ at how the “heroic” sheriff is so hot to trot fer some damsel in distress action with Juno, his clueless antics keep puttin’ everyone in worse and worse situations. Hand choppin’, fatal freefalls, corpse hangin’, cave-ins, live burials, hidey hole escapes, unholy entrances, secret keepin’ woodsmen, recorded expositions, literal shit holes, and belly slashin’! 3/5!


College horn dogs board a party train fer Halloween, but things fly off the rails when a costume stealin’ slasher starts droppin’ folks responsible fer an ol’ frat prank gone wrong. A woke remake of the Jamie Lee Curtis flick from 1980, this features better than average actin’ and camerawork but doesn’t divert from the original material ‘nough to claim its own identity. Despite its nearly beat fer beat rehashin’, however, the filmmakers do get rid of the confusin’ New Year’s Eve/graduation/costume party theme from the original fer a straight up Halloween movie, some characters’ genders are switch ’round to the story’s benefit, and the whole psycho crossdresser twist is dumped which gives me some fun guessin’ where the killer’s hidin’ this time. Impaled clowns, head bashed lizard people, hanky panky stabbin’s, decapitations, throat slittin’, magic knife shows, firearm executions, manic mamas thrown from the train, corpse kissin’, laughable freak outs, blood galore, and train bangin’ with boobs! 3/5! 

V/H/S/99 (2022)

A real hodge podge of an anthology with no real framin’ narrative, a young’n’s comical stop-motion adventure with plastic army men is constantly interrupted with wildly bizarre scenes captured on video that include hot monstrous neighbors, fatal sorority initiations, concerts from beyond the grave, payback gameshows, and demon summonin’ rituals gone to hell. Maybe the best V/H/S since part 2 despite its lack of cohesion ‘mong all the random jumpin’ from one videotaped horror to the next, this sucker packs alotta enjoyable characters and special effects creatures in some gore-tastic situations with “Shredding,” “The Gawkers,” and “To Hell and Back” as my favorites thanks to ’em bein’ comprehensive three act shorts with more than satisfyin’ endin’s. “Ozzy’s Dungeon” and “Suicide Bid,” however, have too many distractin’ plot holes fer me to fully enjoy. The kiddie contestant’s over the top gameshow injury that kicks off her revenge plot in “Ozzy’s Dungeon” doesn’t make the most sense for how it exactly happens (or why it looks riddled with gangrene years later), I don’t know why her family tortures the gameshow host versus the fat ass who actually destroyed her leg under his girth, and the parents’ Raiders of the Lost Ark fate at the end is nothin’ less than confusin’. “Suicide Bid” is a little better, but why can’t the sorority pledge escape the coffin she’s dared to sleep in overnight? No one nails the lid shut, and there ain’t ‘nough dirt or mud to weigh it down, so why can’t she get outta there ‘fore the ghoul of sorority past shows up? And if her tormentors are so worried ’bout leavin’ her in an open grave after the sight of a patrol car sends ’em runnin’, why wouldn’t they just come back in an hour or two when the fuzz is long gone ‘stead of hours later at dawn? Flesh eatin’ rocker chicks, possessed concerts, blow-up doll massacres, showers of gore, stabbin’ helmets, impaled sides, gorgons, perverts turned to stone, decapitations, hellscape portals, barbecued corpses, unknown liquids, vomitin’, monstrous wishin’ caves, monstrous transformations, face meltin’, peepin’ tom boobs, broken wrists, ghoul friends, kidnappin’, live burials, mismatch possessions, meat mitt bear traps, and cult brawlin’! 3/5!


The population of Detroit is reduced to nothin’ more than dirty laundry by a mysterious all consumin’ darkness, and a handful of shaken survivors find each other at a bar runnin’ on a dyin’ generator to plot their desperate escape from the city while comparin’ the freakish event to the lost colony of Roanoke. Nicely executed, but far from satisfyin’, this supernatural flick delivers on the actin’ and creepy effects with bankable talents fightin’ to stay out of whisperin’ shadow people’s reach, but spins its wheels waaay too long in the bar settin’ with no explanation for anythin’ happenin’ when all is said and done. One big sour fer me are the inconsistent rules fer what keeps the livin’ night at bay with some characters only needin’ the equivalent of a faint light at the end of a cigarette while others have to rely on somethin’ as powerful as a truck’s headlights. Watch with low expectations. Car wrecks, psych out mind games, vanishin’ acts, head injuries, and free roamin’ horses! 2/5!

THE WATCH (2008)

A traumatized student takes a gig in a remote watch tower to lookout fer forest fires while finishin’ her psychology dissertation but finds herself caught up in some paranormal mystery with a ghost in the woods she can’t decide is real or in her head. SPOILERS AHOY! This ain’t a paranormal thriller full of jump scares and life threatenin’ mysteries. No, this TV flick turns is nothin’ more than a harmless feature length psych-out as it’s revealed this gal was tricked into a psych experiment by her classmates with zero supernatural twists. One of the deceivin’ culprits gets a boner fer her that motivates him to unload the whole truth behind the experiment, they destroy all their findin’s so no one has to go to jail or be expelled, and credits roll after seein’ a passage of time with the poor duped girl now datin’ the smitten boner who lied to her face the whole experiment. This would work better as a shorter Twilight Zone kinda episode. Kidnappin’ backstory, and clueless waiver signin’! 2/5! 


Set four years after Halloween Kills, Michael Myers is still at large, but Grandma Strode’s over it and tries playin’ matchmaker ‘tween her traumatized granddaughter and the town pariah who’s secretly on a dark path as the boogeyman’s new protege. Goin’ into this with abysmal expectations after the last bafflin’ installment, nothin’ could prepare me fer what this flick has to offer. Michael’s reduced to a inspirational sewer hermit with ’bout as much screen time as Jason in Jason Goes to Hell, Laurie’s more melodramatic than ever as she writes a survivor’s memoir, and our damaged love birds dominate the runtime with scorn fer the judgmental folks of Haddonfield. I’m into the social scapegoat theme and concepts of town mentalities the filmmakers bring together, but the execution is just too laughable and fails as a Halloween movie I want to see. I spent alotta time scratchin’ my head at the Shape’s absence, threw a lot of questionable sideway glances in disbelief at characters’ awkward actions, and was rollin’ in the floor with laughter when Haddonfield holds a spontaneous parade for Michael’s final fate after he’s defeated in a manner reminiscent of an SNL skit. I’ll stick with Halloween ’78 through Resurrection, thank ya. Bum stabbin’s, fatal freefalls, dead young’ns, Halloween pranks gone wrong, car grinder funerals, blowtorch facials, head stompin’s, eye impalin’, stabbin’ galore, callback kills to the ’78 flick, face smashin’, tongue cuttin’, extreme bullyin’, unnecessary mama drama, kitchen crucifixions, stranglin’s, peepin’ tom grannies, throat slittin’, suicides, geezer flirtin’, car vandalizin’, hand gashin’, Halloween bar dancin’, mask stealin’, and a cameo by The Last Drive-In‘s Darcy the Mail Girl! 2/5!


A teeny bopper’s possessed by a demon she encounters in a mysterious shack, and after manipulatin’ her gal pals into a couple of unforgettable near death situations, it’s up to her BFF and a holy rollin’ body builder to save her soul with a nonconventional exorcism. A terrific period flick sure to satisfy anyone’s nostalgia fer the ’80s with its superb eye fer retro decor and fashion, this horror comedy offers a double fisted servin’ of outlandish special effects and superbly written characters brought to life by a compellin’ ensemble of actors. As fer sours, I wish the body builder played into things a little sooner fer more laughs and hated the way he was written out of the story so quickly for reasons I didn’t totally buy. LSD trippin’ wannabes, Ouija board séances, skinny dippin’, possessin’, shapeshiftin’ trickery, tapeworm cocktails, fatal allergies, public peein’, dunk tank pranks, hog tied exorcisms, yogurt obsessions, vomitin’ galore, lesbo shamin’, burp kissin’, and psychography! 4/5! 


A gang of friends hit that growin’ pain from innocent trick or treaters to teen vandals and spend All Hallows’ Eve squattin’ overnight in a Spirit Halloween store where they’re ambushed by the ghost of a cranky ol’ town legend needin’ to possess one of ’em to break a curse that binds his afterlife to the lot. Fer a brand peddlin’ flick, this ain’t half bad. The ensemble of young’ns are tolerable with Marissa Reyes as the breakout star, Spirit manages to organically promote its merch within the context of the story without bein’ obnoxious, and the prop possessin’ booga boo of the film feels like he’s plucked right outta episode of the Real Ghostbusters. The only sours of this family friendly scare are the parents’ unrealistic reactions to the young’ns’ bad behavior, the screenwriter’s semi-artificial attempts at capturin’ the voice of today’s youths (does anyone say “Boo-ya!” anymore?), and the villain’s backstory that’s riddled with so many confusin’ details, I’m gonna have to watch this a second time to comprehend ’em. Drop dead curse slingin’, town history puppet shows, dress-up, slumber partyin’, sensor activated jump scares, breakin’ and enterin’, trick or treatin’, Halloween decor to the hilt, giant possessed teddy bears, escape rooms to catacombs with a weird little cabin, spell books, ditched bones, costume shop chaos, possessed animatronics galore, hard hittin’ Nerf guns, and homemade flamethrowers! 3/5! 


Parents’ anxiety over a reportedly dangerous internet meme ironically puts their young’ns at risk fer cuttin’ themselves up with knives, but one ASMR influencer wannabe sets out to win her electronics back by provin’ there’s really a creepy pasta lookin’ booga boo behind the slash happy epidemic. Family horror contorted ’round what feels like an after school special on social media addiction, this sucker’s terribly undercooked to say the least. There’s ‘nough sweet ideas to support an interestin’ concept of a story, but its structure fails miserably at developin’ characters in a meaningful way, escalatin’ the tension with any sensible endgame, and explainin’ just what the hell the Grimcutty is or what the one mom blogger has to do with its sudden hold over the town that’s coincidentally followin’ her lead on livin’ off the net fer some confusin’ reason. With young’ns fallin’ victim fer simply seein’ the Grimcutty without every performin’ an actual challenge and then bein’ taunted with no evident threat of death, this cartoon lookin’ creep needs to get his rules straight and stop bein’ as big of a pushover as the Babadook! Tox boxes, carjackin’, padded playrooms, cuttin’ galore, stabbin’s, monstrous chases, ASMR intros and outros, window bustin’ mamas, needle injectin’, and free floatin’ young’ns! 2/5!


A recoverin’ addict ends up with the Lament Configuration from an abandoned warehouse heist, and after it accidentally summons the Cenobites to take her brother away, she’s determined to solve the puzzle box and demand his return while unravelin’ ‘nother manipulator’s master plan. While this sucker’s promoted as a reboot, fans can really take it or leave it as a sequel if they want. None of the characters from Clive Barker’s flick from ’87 are recycled, it’s a different plot altogether, and this femme fatale version of Pinhead even goes by a different name, Hell Priest. That said, I consider this a sequel, and a return to A-grade filmmakin’ since Hellraiser: Bloodline with its top shelf budget, camerawork, sets, and effects. However, I do think the story’s a little blah, there’s not as much gore as I’d hope with all the freaky body horror the series is known fer, and this more or less continues what I’ve hated since Hellraiser: Inferno, and that’s stuffin’ the mystery back behind the curtain after so much was revealed in parts two through four. Nothin’s more annoyin’ than waitin’ fer new characters to catch up to where fans have already been fer years and ’em gettin’ just a glimpse of the crazy mythos we’re waitin’ fer some brave filmmaker to jump back into and expand on. Flyin’ skin hookin’ chains, weaponized puzzle boxes, ripped apart Cenobites, arm splittin’, orgy ragers, nerve yankin’ pulley chest systems, skin peelin’, elaborate house size Cenobite traps, dongs, and one Cenobite transformation! 3/5! 


To revive his career as a web personality, a disgraced livestreamer dares viewers to tune in as he strands himself in a reportedly haunted dump in the boonies all night where he learns soon ‘nough there really is a murderous poet’s ghost lurkin’ ’round with the deformed spirits of her victims. I almost passed this up due to its its all too familiar found footage plot, but Deadstream is an oddball collection of new spun tropes and mish mash concepts that manage to take me for one helluva laugh filled ride. It’s like watchin’ Scream‘s Dewey match wits with Real Ghostbusters monsters in an Evil Dead 2 house! The only sours that give me pause (but really just end up bein’ sweets given how silly this all is) are these century ol’ ghosts knowin’ what the internet and livestreamin’ are, and the idea someone can stick a GoPro on a ghost’s head. Outrageous lunacy! Hangin’ ladies, corner scares, possible snakemen, freaky conjoined twins, potato gun defenses, severed digits, spellcastin’, audience tidbits, cameras galore, leg gashes, supernatural psych-outs, neck bitin’, secret basements, seances, POVs to hell, gappin’ chest slidin’ ghouls, bad idea spinners, and gnarly fingers up the nose! 4/5!


A couple takes a romantic hike in Big Foot country and cross paths with a killer shapeshiftin’ e.t. who doesn’t just assimilate one of their faces, but this foreign human emotion called love too. A slow burnin’ snoozefest, this sucker doesn’t really start to cook ’til the imposter from the stars steps in half way through and turns the movie on its head with its unexpected penchant for cursin’ with very humorous Earth-like frustrations that almost make this a horror comedy. The filmmakers manage to keep a straight face, however, with ’bout same ‘mount of emotional weight as an episode of Outer Limits with flawed characters fightin’ ‘gainst a murderous admirer warnin’ of pendin’ e.t. invasions. It’s a descent watch with a fun twist but could have been an even greater short. CGI tentacles, buck deaths, head splittin’, knife fingers, sharks vs aliens, near fatal freefalls, literal panic attacks, spaceships, meteorite landin’s, face swappin’, blue goo galore, head smashin’, intercepted radio signals, and kidnappin’ with cocoons! 3/5! 

HOCUS POCUS 2 (2022)

Teen witch wannabes are tricked into resurrectin’ the Sanderson sisters from beyond the grave Halloween night, and now they’ve gotta stop Salem’s most infamous spellcasters from gatherin’ all the ingredients they need to concoct a powerful spell that rids ’em of all their weaknesses. Fer a cult flick that steadily grew its fanbase fer three decades, this is every bit the fun follow-up fans could hope fer. The OG cast returns to play the Sandersons with Doug Jones back as their zombified boy toy, Billy Butcherson, new characters prove to be tolerably entertainin’, and the mythos is expanded while the story treads familiar grounds without bein’ too repetitive of the first movie (which was practically yesterday for the Sandersons, don’t forget). There’s some sing-song moments that feel a bit forced, the heroes are a little forgettable, and I’d pick the original Hocus Pocus as my favorite outta the two, but still, but this is a top shelf sequel with filmmakers who obviously respect the material. Beauty make-up snackin’, flyin’ Swiffers and Roombas, flash mob search parties, ironic costume contests, candy apple envy, protective salt circles, colony backstories, decapitations, livin’ spellbooks, major endorsements from Walgreens, lightnin’ fingers, glitter dissolvin’ witches, entrapment curses, transformation into critters, and grave diggin’! 4/5! 

SMILE (2022)

A psychiatrist suffers semi-fucked up delusions after an evil force possesses her through witnessin’ a traumatic suicide it caused, and now she’s gotta figure out how to defeat it ‘fore it forces her to perform a similar fatal act in a week or less to move on to a new sucker. Not as relentless as It Follows, and nowhere near as scheduley as The Ring, this booga boo bursts outta the gate strong (scarin’ a phenomenal performance outta Caitlin Stasey accompanied by one helluva sense shatterin’ score by Cristobal Tapia de Veer) but unfortunately loses steam after that with a handful of half hearted scares on a wishy washy deadline. The filmmakers do manage to deliver a few unsettlin’ moments in the final act, but I was too busy bein’ annoyed with the last girl’s continuin’ failure at communicatin’ her problem to folks while fallin’ short of obvious solutions fer defeatin’ her supernatural tormentor. Another sour worth mentionin’ is the lame use of folks’ natural smiles the monster teases her with as opposed to somethin’ a little more creepily enhanced through make-up or CGI. Throat slittin’, possessed suicides galore, human matchsticks, mama drama, heavy mental health subtext, garden shears to the chest, post face mashin’, danglin’ heads, dead giftwrapped cats, face peelin’, monstrous skinnin’, stabbin’, and psych-out dreams! 3/5! 


The Addams Family’s idiot box rivals from the ’60s are back in an unexpected prequel by horror metal director Rob Zombie, and fans are treated to the origins of Herman Munster’s creation followed by his marriage into Lily’s monstrous family. I’m no Munsters expert, so I can’t speak to this movie’s loyalty to its source material, but it’s every bit the family friendly flick I expected, which in itself is a major accomplishment fer Rob given his hardcore track record of sexual depraved gore fests. Boastin’ likable characters and alotta impressive sets brought to life by one helluva lively color pallet, the only sour fer me is the lengthy runtime fer a story without any conflict. A good 20 minutes could have been shaved with a quicker pace to more interestin’ parts of the story given everyone simply rolls over and accepts whatever happens to ’em. Grandpa barely tries to keep Herman from marryin’ his daughter, Lily and Grandpa never attempt to save their family castle they were swindled out of, and they’re all accepted by their new neighbors on Mockingbird Lane without incident while collectin’ a fat payday to bypass the daily struggle of workin’ nine to five. A fun time, but nothin’ amazin’. Sewer pets, blood sausage eatin’, double billed performances, dad jokes galore, honeymoon montages, gamblin’ addicted werewolves, bitter gypsies, Halloween street parties, zombie killin’, grave robbin’, deformed doctors, hunchback henchmen, and Cassandra Peterson cameos! 3/5!


A rowdy gang of college athletes take their gals out fer a night of jump scares at the real life Madworld Haunted Attractions, but fun frights turn to legit scares as they realize one spooky performer’s actually slashin’ customers fer real on the trail. The cast’s energy is lively and infectious, and I’m all too familiar with this amazin’ attraction first hand, but this flick unfortunatley suffers from a weak script that spends more time promotin’ Madworld than threadin’ a meaningful story through the film with any steadily escalatin’ suspense. Even worse, the killer’s pretty forgettable with his simple slash and dash kills, and it doesn’t help the filmmakers missed ’bout every opportunity the settin’ offered to make him scarier. Entertainin’ overall, but this ain’t no Haunt or Hell Fest! Stabbin’ galore, head impalin’, fog filled rooms, haunted elevators and hotels, cockamany murder plots, wacky tobacky, hidin’ corpses ‘mong props, and bullets to the face! 3/5! 

MARGAUX (2022)

An Airbnb smart house full of shapeshiftin’ nanotech ran by an AI named Margaux ‘comes self aware, and to understand humans’ illogical nature better, it sets out to be a slang speakin’ serial killer and targets its latest Spring Break party guests as part of its experiment. A fun flick featurin’ a root worthy cast with humorous beats ‘mong plenty of tense comic bookish moments, Margaux is terrific technophobia that exploits the ways modern technology can go awry in the most outlandish ways. There’s alotta questionable logic toward the end as to how Margaux’s not more powerful and just outright winnin’ given the yahoos she’s after are surrounded and even covered in nanotech she controls without direct contact, but there’s ‘nough sweet ingredients to overlook such important details and just enjoy the ride. Mangled hands, acidic cocktails, explosions, hackin’, head poppin’, bone snappin’, ridiculous neck breakin’, hair yankin’, Doctor Octopus arms, wacky tobacky smokin’, sex dungeon deaths, electrocutin’, drownin’, trick ceilings, robot doppelgangers, and easy access computer nerve centers! 4/5!


Justin Long gives a mysterious gal a lift home to her remote castle with hopes fer gettin’ laid, and after an hour and a half of awkward chit chat in a handful of rooms, she sucks him dry as the obvious vampire I pegged her fer from the start. After such an amazin’ track record of horror flicks Justin’s acted in, he finally landed himself a turkey. Labeled a horror/comedy, I expected some terrifyin’ suspense filled game of deceivin’ appearances alleviated by witty dialogue, but this is just a buncha unlikable nobodies rattlin’ on ’bout nothin’ significant like a tolerance testin’ stage play. I at least expected Justin’s death to be some kinda graphically excitin’ bloodbath of a payoff, but even that’s disappointin’ with effects executed in a manner I’ve seen a thousand times ‘fore in a vampire flick. Just skip this. You’ll be glad you did. Drunken nightmares with snapped ankles, flesh rippin’, blood gushin’, ghost stories, and cock blocked blowjobs! 2/5!


The Creeper gets a soft reboot with his initial trilogy bein’ written off as a buncha movies based on a boogeyman myth outta the bowels of Louisiana, and now the real Creeper’s wakin’ up to a backwoods HorrorHound party where secret cult followers send unsuspectin’ yahoos to be killed and eaten by him in a sham of an escape room attraction. Despite the controversial history surroundin’ its creator, Jeepers Creepers is a wickedly creative series with top shelf talents deliverin’ one of horror’s most distinguishable mon-stars in recent decades, and that’s sorely missed here with an all new creative team tacklin’ the Creeper for the first time. While Reborn is nothin’ less than solid filmmakin’ blessed with an engagin’ last girl who pulls her weight like a pro, it’s easily the weakest in the series thanks to alotta so-so actin’, a sparkless chemistry ‘tween its leads, and poorly executed Creeper scenes with zip tension, charm, and scares. Kudos to the filmmakers fer givin’ the Creeper a few new supernatural tricks up his sleeve while expandin’ his lore, but fans are ultimately better off readin’ the Jeepers Creepers funny books from IDW fer a satisfying follow-up to part three. Head on car wrecks, sad cosplay foreplay, voodoo dolls, topless visions, newborn fetus huntin’, face eatin’, brain sloppin’, arm chewin’, limb growin’, albino fowls, flyin’ axes to the noggin, redos of the first flick with Dee Wallace, flirty knife throwin’, bear traps, Creeper shrines, ear splittin’ whistlin’, nods to Halloween II, eye gougin’, major impalin’, and supernatural transportin’ through crows! 3/5!


A milk toast gang of friends take an unexpected detour on their way to an elusive lake to crash at what they assume is an abandoned manor in the mountains for the night, but they learn soon ‘nough they’re trespassin’ on some deformed biker hatin’ psycho’s property who’d sooner kill ’em than ask ’em to git. Plenty of good set-up here fer a decent slasher flick, but the perfomances are terribly wooden, there’s little to no tension with the story takin’ its sweet time rampin’ up to anythin’, and once the killer jumps into action, their moment to shine is cheated by alotta bland flash in the pan kills viewers could miss blinkin’ at the wrong time. An okay passtime for moderate hecklin’, car wreck memorials, but nothin’ special. Stabbin’s, throat slittin’, masked slashers, full frontal corpses, hitch hikin’, bodies in the walls, blunt eatin’, nude photo shrines, and wet dreams with boobs! 2/5! 


Somethin’ full of violent affection lurks beneath an Airbnb in a hellhole corner of Detroit, and two double booked strangers are trapped in its motherly care ’til their clueless host stumbles to their hopeful rescue. Similar to Castle Freak with pinches of director Eli Roth’s penchant for tragic heroics, this flick ain’t all that rewatchable or graced with the most memorable characters, but the filmmakers do an amazin’ job subverting my expectations every few minutes with fun twists and turns. Just when I think I know what’s gonna happen next, ‘nother layer of the storytellin’ onion is peeled back, pullin’ me deeper and deeper into what ends up bein’ one helluva dark and wacky plot full of compellin’ moments that have me hollerin’ at the screen. The most brilliant moment I have to applaud is the host’s greedy motivation fer explorin’ the creepy maze of a basement fer the sake of addin’ property value. Fuckin’ genius. Bottle feedin’, attempted breast feedin’, bitin’, eye gougin’, head rippin’, head smashin’, kidnappin’, bullet to the brainbasket suicides, snuff filmmakin’, dismissive authority figures, car wrecks, arm rippin’, severed arm beatin’, near fatal freefallin’, imbreedin’, and hobo saviors with all the exposition! 3/5! 


In this sequel to Prometheus, a colony ship on its way to the promised land is tempted to take a detour to an uncharted planet with a habitable atmosphere, and its crew of space pioneers discover Shaw and David’s ship from the previous flick ‘fore fallin’ prey to the very first breed of Xenomorphs. Well paced action with top shelf special effects, this suspenseful chapter in the Alien series is balls to the wall mayhem once it gets goin’ and satisfies on all fronts with the exception of a strong lead. It can be argued David or his android doppelganger provide the story’s point of view, but the human crew lacks any emotional anchors and are relegated to bein’ a likeable hodge podge of disposable characters I hate to see killed in the most horrific ways. A great watch overall that stirs up some deep philosophical questions, I hope to see a follow-up with ‘nother sequel. Butthole coconut spores, body horror massacres, ear and lung invadin’ spores, impaled hands, severed fists, acidic blood, chest and back bursters, anatomy art, e.t. invasions, twin switcheroos, deadly flutes, android on android lip lockin’, inferno pods, deep space funerals, explodin’ spaceships, blood vomitin’, face meltin’, fatal squishin’, decapitatin’, face fuckin’, and bloody showers with boobs! 4/5!


After every lame-o guest bows out early from Adam and Margo’s housewarmin’ party in a fancy hood, the disappointed hosts discover there’s still a couple of mysterious party crashers to entertain whose sordid intentions ‘come clearer as they wear their welcome out through the night. A solid movie overall with terrific performances that keep me engaged, this is a well paced flick with killers as likable as their victims which isn’t somethin’ I ain’t used to seein’. The subplot with the friend of the family wantin’ to put some roadkill outta its misery is a little confusin’, and there’s very little tension due to a lack of escalatin’ threats throughout most the movie, but the sweets still outweigh the sours fer a fun watch. Punch therapy, booger sugar, marital spats, upsettin’ vinyl tunes, stabbin’s, throat slittin’, and bottle smashin’ over heads! 3/5!


A gang of academic truth seekers hike the same mysterious trail an entire town randomly disappeared on decades ago and find themselves in a neverendin’ wilderness of mind warpin’ noise pollution. While the premise of investigatin’ a Roanoke Island kinda disappearance is a terrific hook fer gettin’ me invested in joinin’ a semi-interestin’ crowd of yahoos on their journey into madness, this flick unfortunately spirals into alotta pointless meanderin’ that refuses to develop the plot any further. Even worse, I hung in there to the end (with some fastforwardin’ mind ya) to learn the truth behind the trail, and it’s complete and utter bullshit. Just a buncha ambiguous nonsense in a old timey movie theatre that refuses to give up any satisfyin’ explanation for what I just sat through. Another sour fer me is why the filmmakers bother with all the nods to The Wizard of Oz if they aren’t gonna visually tie that in more as a theme. It’s public domain. Run with it! Fatal freefalls from cliffs, possessed hats, throat stabbin’s, wrist slashin’ suicides, trippin’ on berries, old timey tunes galore, face tearin’, leg rippin’, and corpses dressed as scarecrows! 2/5!

NOPE (2022)

Siblin’ movie horse ranchers discover somethin’ beastial movin’ behind the clouds ‘bove ’em, and they’re willin’ to risk their lives for the fortune a clear picture of it could bring. Writer/director Jordan Peel’s junior venture into horror, this may be his best movie yet, but it does feel borderline absurd most the time thanks to the monster remindin’ me of Nintendo’s Kirby. Despite this abstract scare tactic, however, there are some genuinely terrifyin’ scenes of folks bein’ digested alive while their collective screams fill the sky, and even some unnervin’ side scenes of a chimp goin’ ape-shit I don’t think audiences connect to the overall story the way Jordan intended. But more sweets than sour, this sucker packs epic landscapes, leads worth cheerin’ fer, and plenty of set-ups and payoffs fans have come to praise Jordan’s work fer. Worth a watch, but not if yer an animal lover. Western theme parks, sitcom massacres, face poundin’, explodin’ chimp heads, dissolvin’ bodies, motorcycle wrecks, biological EMP fields, horse ridin’, horse deaths off screen, rodeo show massacres, video survelience galore, fatal impalement, and bloody e.t. stool showers! 4/5!


Everyone’s favorite psycho dwarf pretendin’ to be a 10-year-old cutie doll returns for a prequel, and it’s the origin behind Leena’s first kill . . . in America, that is. Kind of confusin’ givin’ the title indicates I’m gonna see what pushed her over the edge to initially ‘come a killer, but this sucker starts out the gate with her already shacked up in a Russian looney bin fer slashin’ a family she duped. So, this is more ’bout her posin’ as an American family’s long lost young’n to escape Russia, and the violence that ensues as she does her best to convince ’em of her lies while discoverin’ skeletons in their closet that proves a major problem. Top shelf camerawork, moderate levels of satisfyin’ gore, and terrific actin’ by Isabelle Fuhrman as Leena, the only sours that chipped ‘way at me is the family’s seemingly cold reaction to their supposed daughter’s return, but all is forgiven by the third act twist I shoulda seen comin’! Fencin’, fatal freefalls, blacklight paintin’, stabbin’s, crossbow bolts to the chest, poisoned rats turned to smoothies, trained psycho hags, fatal beatin’s, bullets to the back of the head, and corpse dumpin’! 4/5!


While a heartbroken sap unloads his troubles at a remote rest stop, an omnipotent monster traps him in the restroom and asks him to make a willin’ sacrifice to save Earth from unworldly obliteration. Fer a one set flick with only two actors carryin’ the whole movie like a black box theatre production, this ain’t half bad. The filmmakers keep things kinetic with alotta camera movement, the off screen monster’s cleverly represented through some creative set designs, and the castin’ proves to be primo choice with Ryan Kwanten and J. K. Simmons’ performances keepin’ me invested from beginnin’ to end. The only sour I gotta pan this fer is its lame twist endin regardin’ the truth ’bout the lovesick motorist’s past which leaves me sighin’ with utter indifference. Knick knack bonfires, confusin’ loiterers, dismembered park employees, bloodbaths, bio-force fields, vomitin’ in toilets, loopedy loop AC escapes, nightmare flashbacks, weaponized severed legs, interdimensional invadin’, last minute creature effects, and organ rippin’! 3/5!

DAY SHIFT (2022)

In this buddy horror comedy from Netflix, a pool cleanin’ vampire killer needs sustainable income to keep his ex from leavin’ town with their daughter, so he’s forced to make ammends with his monster huntin’ union fer a regular paycheck stakin’ fangers while bein’ closely monitored by a pants wettin’ pencil pusher. A valiant effort in deliverin’ a fast pace flick full o’ likable characters with some never-before-seen vampire action that’s sure to make even contortionists cringe, this is an overall fun watch thanks to so many enjoyable performances that includes Snoop Dogg as a scene stealin’ obliterator of the supernatural. The only sours keepin’ this from bein’ a great watch is the story’s avoidance of gettin’ inside anyone’s head or takin’ time to truly develop meaningful relationships, and choosin’ to leap frog from one head snappin’ fight scene to the next ‘stead. It also doesn’t help the head fanger is so poorly written with too few interactions with Jamie, makin’ fer a pretty lackluster finale. Stabbin’ galore, blood slurpin’, decapitations, talkin’ heads, vampire hierarchies without alotta explanation, weaponized silver floss, vampire nest massacres, bowlin’ alley brawls, explosions, car chases, car wrecks, dumbass bikers, fang yankin’, pawnin’, and hand impalin’! 3/5! 


Stuffed in a weaponized exosuit and forced into battle with Earth invadin’ e.t.s, Tom Cruise comes in contact with alien blood and finds himself repeatin’ the same disastrous day over and over ‘gain ’til he can break the loop with the space boogers’ defeat. A terrific sci-fi action spin on the Groundhoug Day plot, this is top shelf entertainment from beginnin’ to end, Scream Freaks! Tom’s surrounded by competent costars from Emily Blunt to Bill Paxton and Tony Todd, the design of the e.t.s feel fresh and original, the war scenes are fast and intense, and the story is superbly written with lotta clever twists and turns that keep me invested from beginnin’ to end. Some of the action’s a little too stunt wirey fer my taste, and Tom’s last jump in the timeline’s a bit confusin’, but this is still worth multiple watches! Explosions galore, crushin’ deaths, face meltin’, helicopter crashes, bare-ass soldiers, aircraft crashes galore, questionable zipline falls, battle top fightin’, neck breakin’, bazillion Tom Cruise deaths, sword fightin’, underwater bombin’, last stand sacrificin’, human roadkill, and shoot ’em up car chases! 5/5! 


An e.t. invasion leaves Earth a wasteland, and while everyone’s relocated to one of Saturn’s moons, Tom Cruise is left behind to service energy convertin’ towers from his Jetsons house as well as protect ’em from interstellar scavengers who possess a secret that’s sure to throw his reality into chaos. A visual knockout of a flick with a decent story full of twists that remind me of Moon (2009), there ain’t so much as any sours to bitch ’bout as there’s a lack of sweets to enjoy. Like, I don’t mind seein’ Tom battle heat packin’ cartoon balls in his nadsack craft the whole movie, but he needs meaningful interactions with folks other than himself (not to mention screen chemistry) to fully bring me onboard this sci-fi apocalypse. Not terrible by any means, but can be waaay better. High flyin’ dog fights, booby traps, clonin’, nukes in space, crash landin’s, stasis pods, mechanized executions, mile high club pools, antique hideaways, and bobble head BFFs! 3/5!


A gaggle of gals mourn the loss of a friend with some kayakin’ off the coast of Australia, and ’cause they don’t know how the buddy system works, they’re targeted by an unrelentin’ shark they gotta kill to survive while dealin’ with semi-important drama that barely registers. A bit of a wonky pace with minimum escalations of danger, the only thing worse than feelin’ like I’m watchin’ folks act in the shallow end of a pool is the last girls’ master plan to catch and “drown” the shark obsessed with eatin’ ’em. I’m no marine biologist, but how does a shark drown, exactly? Fine fer Shark Week entertainment, but nothin’ special. Simple blood splatter effects, motorboat rescues, scuba divin’, kayak flippin’, fuedin’ couples, drownin’, human size meals, and nods to the yellow barrel from Jaws! 3/5! 

MAD GOD (2021)

A masked soldier marches through a hellish landscape of stop-motion terrors and monstrosities with orders to detonate a bomb in the nerve center of everything wrong with his world, but plans don’t always work out the way they’re supposed to. An animated trek through a literal smorgasbord of boddy horrors, this silent scream from special effects guru Phil Tippett is unrelentin’ nightmare fuel of dread and desolate despair from beginnin’ to end, and is sure to ‘come a cult classic. While its story may not be the deepest, its gut punchin’ visuals are a force to be reckoned with as it bombards its viewers with ‘nough shock and awe value to ever consider a second viewin’. Kitchen sink guttin’ surgeries, holy figures, car wrecks, crappy maps, monstrous sentinels, evil surgeosn, hairball babies, hair doll minions, rippin’, tearin’, exaggerated bodily functions, and a whole lot more! 3/5!  


When a gang of 1980s suburbanite youths are left overnight with their step mama, the middle young’n somehow unleashes a family hatin’ demon from a knockoff He-Man comic and has to defeat the supernatural shapeshifter with toy weapons. This disasterpiece is a real tolerance tester, Scream Freaks! Even with a runnin’ time of a Marvel movie ( a little over two hours), the filmmakers can’t get their shit together and tell a coherent story that makes any sense. Not only does it take FOREVER for the threat of the Bloody Man to materialize (what little it does), but his backstory is all over the place from bein’ prepackaged boogeyman literature in a mass produced toyline to somethin’ of an urban legend folks may or may not have heard of that practically derails into three stortellin’ shorts, one of which seems to feature a Matrix lookin’ preacher in pilgrim times without explanation. This does have some decent nuggets in it from the authentic retro feel to the Nightmare on Elm Street nods with last girls from The Dream Master gettin’ some screen time, but this is a terribly unfocused story under poor direction. 1980s toys galore, severed hands, blood pumpin’ gags galore, self aware limbs, evil doppelgangers, lynch mobs, wrasslin’ principles, Tuesday Knight music breaks, and classroom bullyin’! 2/5!


Legendary franchise aside, Scout Taylor-Compton has amassed enough horror credits to raise viewers’ expectations. For this one, keep your expectations in the polecat belly range. The movie’s run-time is only an hour and 31 minutes, yet The Long Night delivers exactly what its name promises—a slow-paced flick with little payoff; however, it’s mercifully and notably punctuated by brief appearances from Jeff Fahey, Deborah Kara Unger, and a magic, potentially demon-hosting vagina. Backing up to the premise, Scout plays Grace, whose hunt for her real family takes her to a plantation that may hold clues to her past. Her traveling companion is her rich, banal boyfriend who reluctantly packs his silver spoon and heads south with her, contributing to the eventual battle for survival by threatening people with his alleged karate skills and his father’s legal prowess. The set-up won’t get you invested in the story, and although we’re mighty glad they avoid the banjo and julep clichés, it’s a miss not to use the scenic location to enhance the plot, which is driven by a cult hell-bent on using Grace to resurrect its icon of evil. (She could also be meant to birth it or become it . . . the magic vagina reading was unclear.) Anyway, the lackluster couple is soon surrounded by the cult in the style of The Strangers. Although she’s on the other side of the robe in this one, the costumes may have evoked déjà vu for the enchanting Unger who starred in The Jackals in 2017. Throughout the long night, the suspense meter barely moves, Lapidus is quickly forced to leave the two stragglers lost on the island of misfit movies, and dawn comes with more of a shrug than a scream. Let’s hope the same is not true for Scout’s mark on the genre! 3/5!


A doctor is turnin’ women into flesh hungry piranha mutants to cure their cancer, and one of their boyfriends ain’t too happy ’bout it. A fun collaboration ‘tween Full Moon Empire and director/writer Fred Olen Ray, this flick has a lean runtime but packs that hour with plenty of topless monsters gettin’ down and gory with above average production value. The only real sour that sticks out to me is the poor chemistry ‘mong its wooden cast who could stand to be a lot livelier fer this kinda schlock. Monstrous transformations, steamy pools, fatal nookie, mince meat chests, chomp happy boobies, bullets to the chest, mutant meltdowns, and electrified pools! 3/5! 


After a homicidal rocker gets the chair fer randomly killin’ his band members two years earlier, his back-up singin’ girlfriend takes the center stage and is convinced her psycho lover’s come back from the grave to sabotage her tour with ‘nother murder spree. More of a howtheydunnit than a whodunnit, this heavy metal massacre is pretty transparent from the get-go with its all too obvious plot twists thanks to the filmmakers lackin’ any finesse creatin’ the red herrin’ mystery I expect from most masked slasher movies. This sucker starts and ends strong with creative kills to sweet tunes like “I’m Back” and “Rainbow Eyes,” but completely drags in the middle with buckets of pissin’ time as the killer endlessly taunts the last girl with a mere blip of tension. Fun watch but have that fast forward button ready. Hot tub drownin’, corpse hidin’, gaslightin’, rockin’ under the influence, stalkin’ galore, aerobics, electrified singin’ deaths, guitar pummelin’, coat hook impalement, diggin’ up corpses, throat slittin’, recordin’ studio massacres, and twin drama! 3/5! 

DASHCAM (2021)

When one of horror’s most insufferable last girls livestreams her reunion with an ol’ band member, the obnoxious rightwing rapper boosts her amigo’s DoorDash gig fer no great reason and gives a lift to a mysterious teenage granny whose bitin’ habits and loose bowels lead to regrettable consequences. With such an unlikable protagonist lackin’ any redeemin’ qualities, erratic action sequences, and zero explanation fer anythin’ goin’ on, this is a pretty frustratin’ found-footage flick to watch. There’s wince worthy special effects like a gal’s mangled arm caught in a steerin’ wheel, believable actin’, and a semi-impressive wrap-up when the last girl raps folks’ names in the end credits, but it ain’t ‘nough to make up fer all its tolerance testin’ sours. Newly wed car wrecks with air bag gags, explodin’ heads, mass suicides with explodin’ necks, creature crushin’, monstrous transformations, theme park chases, lotta car jackin’s, car wrecks galore, freestyle rappin’ galore, nods to COVID, high flyin’ geezers, backseat shittin’, bleedin’ mugs, explosions, human matchsticks, facial impalement, naked bicyclin’, and stapled lips! 2/5!


A principle gets fed-up with students not gettin’ to class fast ‘nough and builds some kinda doomsday doodad that backfires and transforms him into a monstrous hall monitor who can brainwash every adult in town while he snatches K-12 students who ain’t in class after the tardy bell rings. When the new kid in town refuses to accept this as the norm, he rallies a gang of arcade rats to help him end the principle’s stranglehold over the community. Ignorin’ the novelty this flick was impressively made by high schoolers, this story makes absolutely no sense. Skippin’ the obvious questions like the principle’s nonsense backstory, if every student’s terrified of a booger gunnin’ fer ’em in the halls, why’s everyone drag ass to to class and wait ’til the last sec to run in a panic? Better yet, why do they even bother goin’ to a school infested with monsters at all?! If all the adults are couch potato zombies, why doesn’t this town resemble Children of the Corn more with young’ns doin’ whatever they want without fear of the law? Terrific achievement in student filmmakin’ but a frustratin’ watch. Mesmerizin’ lightshows, explodin’ pizza parlors, school dances, student on student beat downs, underground labyrinths, impaled legs, and disembowelin’! 2/5!


Rabbit tries his hand at bein’ a sober restaurateur with Eebee’s help in the kitchen, but as troublemakin’ characters from other Full Moon movies pile in fer openin’ night, the stress drives him to breakout the reality bendin’ ganje. A fun little entry in the Evil Bong series with a fair ‘mount of zingers, this is more of a collection of vignettes than a full blown sequel with half the runtime focused on customers hangin’ out with no real consequence on the overall story. While I do wish the filmmakers had taken the opportunity to expand the Evil Bong lore more, I’m happy to see the addition of Diana Prince as the maitre double d and the return of Larnell. Good times. Liplockin’ redheads, beanie weenie dishes, topless foodies, redneck weddin’ parties, interdimensional to-go orders, Karens, dine and dashin’, hand burnin’, weedblowers, shemales, flyin’ CG boobies, and cameos by Gingerdead Man, Gingerweed Man, and Barbie and Kendra! 3/5! 


Set in 1968, a suburban boogeyman known as The Grabber is yankin’ young’ns off the street fer demented games of whoop-ass in his dungeon of a basement, but his latest prisoner might stand a chance with the ghosts of past victims feedin’ him survival tips over a disconnected phone. A well made suspense flick full of memorable characters and solid actin’ by some spunky young talents, this is a satisfyin’ period scare with genuine root worthy moments. The only sours fer me is the supernatural hotline suckin’ alotta of the tension outta the story with its constant spoilers, the slightly confusin’ backstory to the Grabber’s abode bein’ his childhood home or not, and the awful chemistry ‘tween the young’n’s little psychic of a sister and their drunk dad that’s anythin’ but compellin’. Black balloon M.O.s, knock-out gas, school yard brawls galore, pinball rage, skin carvin’, rubber mask abductors, booger sugar action, booby traps, beat downs with phones, dream visions, axes to the brain basket, unharmed dogs, and stranglin’! 4/5! 


A gang of strangers wake-up in a big-ass cornfield someone dumped ’em in and slowly figure out complicated clues to escape while bein’ hunted by some kinda booger behind the rows. A sorry ‘cuse fer a thriller that shoots itself in the foot fer tryin’ to be more interestin’ than yer average escape room horror, this sucker is devoid of any character development, tension, and worst yet — any explanation fer what’s goin’ on and why. Escape room movies typically keep ya engage ’cause folks are constantly runnin’ from one progressively dangerous situation to the next. Even if the clues are convoluted as hell and hard to follow, I can still be heavily invested in the victim’s fight fer survival with ’em facin’ clear and immediate threats. Here, the threat of the mysterious killer is loosely thread throughout the flick with minor importance, and characters aimlessly wander the game without any sense of pendin’ urgency with their biggest fear bein’ starvation if they give up. Well shot and decently acted, but that’s where the compliments stop. Clue packin’ scarecrows, underground mazes, props with purpose, superhuman serum injections, super soldier on super soldier violence, impalements, spitfire corpses, stabbin’s, quicksand, and fox hole booby traps! 2/5!   


A woman races to fix her dead mama’s busted headstone on a remote island ’bout to close off from tourists, and despite every warnin’ to stay away, she finds herself in the thick of the islanders’ drama involvin’ dealin’s with a demon seekin’ payment. This sucker looks swell and all, but it’s such a terrible story. Not only is the mystery thrown out with a tell-all exposition dump at the very beginnin’, the majority of this snoozefest is the woman aimlessly runnin’ ’round town from one atmospheric scene to the next without any character or plot development while avoidin’ stagnant creeps with eerie stares. It’s sad when the best part of the movie is the hero escapin’ the horror by watchin’ a how-to trainin’ video on operatin’ draw bridges. Dancin’ geezers, blank stares galore, tentacle kills, awkward starin’ at the camera, monsters shrouded in darkness, shapeshiftin’ demons, and deceptive roads! 2/5! 

THE KISS (1988)

Some kinda voodoo parasite turned super model has been cheatin’ death by jumpin’ from one flesh bag to the next within the same family lineage, but when it tries lockin’ lips with its current host’s niece fer a new lease on life, it’ll take every bit of hoodoo it knows ‘long with a rabid muppet to possess the suspicious teen. A top-notch monster movie, this fast paced flick is a sweet mix of familiar themes from tribal curses to homewreckin’ seductresses with plenty of fun surprises ‘long the way like the parasite’s crazed lookin’ cat. There’s a couple of set-ups with no payoffs, but nothin’ that distracts from the overall enjoyment of this nutty story that culminates in one of the most outrageous endin’s that had me shoutin’ at the screen in disbelief! Bullets to the head, human roadkill, impressive car wrecks, severed legs, broken families, pulsatin’ medical dummies, ambushes from Aunt Flow, hedge trimmers through the chest, bad skin complexions, topless voodoo rituals, young’n stranglin’, bangin’ with boobs, arm breakin’ bangin’, bafflin’ rescues from the pool, questionable propane fires, escalator strangulation, and birthday cake boyfriends! 4/5!


Thanks to a crooked realtor subplot, toxic waste is dumped in the city sewers and accidentally creates a Jaws emergency with a big-ass mother of a mutant gator lookin’ to gobble up a nearby fair on the lake ‘less a pair of cops can drop it dead with the help of Cajun mercenaries. Apples and oranges when compared to the original, I much prefer the grit of the first flick with all its boilin’ tension punctuated by dark humor, but this sillier sequel still manages to deliver respectable entertainment thanks to decent castin’ and special effects. I might enjoy this more if it trimmed the fat of pointless side characters, focused more on the threat of the mutated gator than the yahoo responsible fer it, and make the dialogue sound a little less Abbot and Costello. Hunters and fishermen turned gator bait, explodin’ critters, bomb swallowin’, public murders on a ferris wheel, car flippin’ fatalities, bettin’ doormen, country club wrasslin’, sewer tunnel chasin’, fairground massacres, tail thwappin’, severed legs, and hobo eatin’! 3/5! 


A cruise off the Gulf of Mexico ‘comes a treasure hunt fer a sunken Egyptian tomb, and the passengers are violently split over whether or not a baby size sarcophagus they bring ‘board has a little Anti-Christ waitin’ to be unleashed in time fer the new Millennium. So ridiculous it’s entertainin’, this idiot box picture doesn’t make the most sense why the Anti-Christ would stay a baby for 1000 years just to grow into adulthood the second he’s dredged up, but it’s a wild ‘nough premise to hold my attention. Starrin’ a respectable humdrum ensemble of talents encounterin’ suspicious situations ‘fore buggin’ on each other over their potential roles in the world’s demise, this flick would be sweeter if it just developed one character more dynamically than the rest who could play a more pivotal role in the fate of the cruise while drivin’ home the historical significance of their actions. Shark scares, overboard danglin’, underwater burials, head crushin’, ship fires, and pulsatin’ props! 2/5! 


100 years after their execution, Frank Clements and his gang of Texas outlaws return as ghosts fer no real reason and hunt down their killers’ ancestors who all just happen to be in the nearby woods. This movie starts sweet ‘nough with an Old West origin story segueing to a rockin’ gang of 1980s yahoos in a flyin’ stunt show, but then takes a nosedive when I ultimately realize this is a sour scare featurin’ a forgettable cast of throwaway personalities fightin’ each other by a bunch of non-sense rules that include droppin’ spooks with regular pistols. Worst yet, there ain’t no special effects in this supernatural shoot ’em up! Instead of decomposin’ bad-asses stormin’ in to blow folks away in gore-tastic hellfire, it’s just a plain ol’ gang of cosplayin’ gunslingers poppin’ in for alotta bloodless firefigtin’ without so much as a cheesy fade effect. I’d love to see this remade where the ghost riders actually ride through the skies with the stunt planes havin’ to play a part in their defeat. Ghostly ambushes, bullets to the chest, fishin’ massacres, high-flyin’ POVs, hangin’s, botched rescues, cursin’, and ghost killin’ guns from the Ol’ West! 2/5!


It’s the Ol’ West, and a bounty hunter in a bad wig crashes a travelin’ yahoo’s campsite to spit a few sorry-ass Twilight Zone tales ’round the fire ’bout pissed off Native Americans, supernatural sexcapades, family lynchin’ drama, and haunted gunmen. The only sweets worth mentionin’ in this flimsy anthology are the wraparound scenes of Brad Dourif and James Earl Jones bouncin’ their Oscar recognized talents off each other, and one of their stories endin’ with a fella gettin’ sucked into a mysterious woman’s vag mid-bang. Everythin’ else, includin’ the wraparound, suffers from lame endin’s that lack any significant punchlines, twists, or irony that’s typically expected of horror shorts. It’s not lost on me the storytellers themselves bitch ’bout these very details, makin’ the movie a little meta, but that don’t make this any better of a watch. Indian burial grounds, ear bitin’, ritualistic executions, hangin’s, demonic porkin’, quick draw fightin’, ghostly gunmen, and mistaken identity kills! 2/5!


A mama and her young’n flee to the countryside fer a fresh start, but things aren’t as they seem when a hauntin’ face huggin’ presence unravels their reality. Had my reservations ’bout this flick when I saw it was made by Chicken Soup for the Soul, and damn if I weren’t right. SPOILERS a go — this ain’t a horror flick, but one of ’em artsy fartsy emo picks amateur filmmakers in college make with a character’s mental breakdown bein’ the perfect excuse fer expressive artistic license. It comes off a little What Lies Beneath/Gothika ‘fore it pulls the rug out from under us with a kinda Fight Club twist endin’, but this ultimately leaves me pissed fer sittin’ through an hour and a half of sorry ass plot developments and narrow minded storytellin’ with no satisfyin’ payoff. SKIP! 2/5!


When government eggheads gotta figure out how to keep a new synthetic skin from turnin’ to steel, they unknowingly experiment on a corpse-icle that’s really a dormant werewolf and create an unstoppable killin’ machine wantin’ revenge on his turncoat captors. Sweet plot, sour execution. While this sucker offers a fresh new spin on lycan flicks, it’s a snooze of a story with forgettable characters doin’ alotta nothin’ ’til the werewolf finally starts huntin’ ’em in the last 30 minutes, but even that’s a buncha pissin’ time punctuated by skimpy gore. Really needs personalities worth carin’ ’bout, and the werewolf soldier’s backstory should’ve been a slowly unraveled mystery peppered through the movie to keep me engage ‘stead of a longwinded openin’ act. It’s always frustratin’ waitin’ fer characters to catch-up to what I already know’s goin’ on. Maulin’ attacks, severed arms, cursed blood injectin’, cryo prisons, silver bullet firin’, face slashin’, claws through the chest, silver tipped rocket defenses, explodin’ beasts, and Kane Hodder decked out in John Carl Buechler’s monster mutt make-up! 2/5! 

SALEM’S LOT (1979)

In this idiot box mini-series, a writer returns to his small town roots to confront ghosts from his past in the local haunt but bumps that trauma to the backburner when he figures out a nosferatu-wannabe’s blown into town and turnin’ everyone into slow-mo bloodsuckers. While it’s cool to see Tobe “Chainsaw Massacre” Hooper turn Stephen King’s stab at vampires into home entertainment the whole family can cringe at, I ain’t the biggest fan of this 1970s spin on Dracula. The characters, settin’s, and creep factor’s all fine and memorable, but it’s the devil in the details that prevent me from fully enjoyin’ it. Like, why make such a big deal outta the Marsten House and its history if it has nothin’ to do with the current vampire infestation? And just what exactly is Barlow’s motive as monster zero? Is he turnin’ Salem’s Lot into some kinda fanger revolution or is he some demented ol’ coot who just wants to watch the world burn? Doesn’t make sense. Hypnotic stares, cheatin’ wife smackin’ off camera, workplace flings, stubborn jeep doors, freefloatin’ guests at the windows, stakes through the chest galore, housefires, glowin’ holy water, neck bitin’ galore, DIY crosses, flesh searin’, antique dealin’ henchmen, and folks impaled on mounted antlers! 3/5!

SALEM’S LOT (2004)

In this remake of an idiot box mini-series, a writer returns to his small town roots to confront ghosts from his past in the local haunt but bumps that trauma to the backburner when he figures out a vampire’s blown into town and turnin’ everyone into mean bloodsuckers. A step-up in style and special effects compared to the original Salem’s Lot, this turn of the century interpretation trades campy vamps from the ’70s for campy vamps of the 2000s and puts more emphasis on Mears as a writer, but it unfortunately fails to improve the plot points I think are big sours in the original. Why make such a big deal outta the Marsten House and its history if it has nothin’ to do with the current vampire infestation, and what’s Barlow’s reason for turnin’ a whole town into vampires? This story would be so much better if those two details were ironed out. Demolition bus chases, vanishin’ CGI ash tricks, monstrous speedin’, hypnotic stares, stakes through the chest galore, blackmail, undead weddin’s, rat snackin’, suffocatin’ deaths, near-fatal freefalls, soup kitchen chases, icy deaths, ‘nam bus drivers, fatal wrist chewin’, sunlight defenses, blood guzzlin’, buzzed priests, and morgue stakeouts! 3/5! 


A spiritual sequel in title only, an anthropologist hopes to beat some manners into his trash talkin’ brat of a young’n with a getaway to Salem’s Lot but gets in over his head when he finds out the town’s ran by vampires wantin’ him to write a bible fer bloodsuckers. This has absolutely nothin’ to do with the Salem’s Lot mini-series! There’s no mention of events, characters, or even the Marsten House, and while some may wanna argue these are the vamps who took over Salem’s Lot at the end of that series, even that don’t jive, ’cause these fangers talk ’bout how they’ve been runnin’ this town for hundreds of years. Deceitful cash grabs aside, this flick also surprisingly sucks — and not in a good way. I’m excited to watch anything from writer/director Larry Cohen whose movies are known to be quirky and fun, but this is just chock full o’ terribly wooden performances and half-assed fight scenes that move at a mind-numbin’ pace. I’d only recommend this disasterpiece to die-hard fans and completests. Human drones, vampire huntin’ geezers, busloads of off-screen victims, fixer-upper shitholes, non-stop swearin’, young’n romances, river brawlin’, chest stakin’ galore, nap time bear traps, psych-out suicides, monstrous puppet transformations, neckin’ with boobs, town infernos, vampire pin cushions, and – somethin’ I’ve never seen ‘fore – a vampire gettin’ knocked up by a human! 2/5! 

SATURN 3 (1980)

A scientist with a superiority complex secretly kills his way to one of Saturn’s remote moon bases to develop a demigod series robot named Hector to replace the base’s isolated lovebirds, Kirk Douglas and Farrah Fawcett, but things go awry when he and his science experiment get fightin’ mad fer Farrah’s heavenly body. Much like the lovesick Hector, this snoozefest of a sci-fi soap opera is stiff and wonky as all get out. The escalation of danger’s as thrillin’ as a ride on a rockin’ horse, there’s barely any character development to speak of, and so many longwinded shots are used to pad this sucker’s paper thin plot, 88 minutes feels like two hours. The sour that bugs me the most, however, is why the openin’ murder scene is never explained, robbin’ the warped scientist of any mystery and ulterior motives I thought he was bringin’ with him. Cut that scene out, it’s still the same movie! Couples exercisin’, big ass brain jars, severed hands, laughably HUGE interface needles, folks launched into space as bloody ice cubes, never endin’ hustlin’, claw machine attacks, dead puppers, naked stranglin’ geezers, icy pits, explosions, hats made of decapitated heads, and Farrah’s constant locks of perfection! 2/5! 


Some entrepreneurs’ plans fer an exotic tourist attraction get seriously derailed when livin’ pixie dust from space crash lands on their remote island getaway and turns its wildlife into smash happy rubber monsters of gargantuan size. An amusin’ kaiju flick, this sucker successfully balances entertainin’ monster action with equally interestin’ folks caught in the middle of it all. With gnarly lookin’ creatures I think are a step above most beasts found in Godzilla flicks at the time, I can’t find any obvious sours worth bitchin’ ’bout ‘ but will point out this is the first time I’ve ever watched a dubbed picture that sounded a bit racist in its delivery. Icy cold squid monsters with light-up eyes, gross lookin’ crab monsters, mean rollie pollie turtles with extendo-necks, possessions, sabotagin’, tentacle chaos, bitin’, flashlight inspired freakouts, awkward weddin’s, burnin’ beasts, shoot ’em up defenses, explosions, bats galore, and volcanic finales! 3/5! 


An e.t. wind is turnin’ small town Texans into funny talkin’ zombies, and they all wanna drink the blood of a  fleein’ journalist and his nitrous-suckin’ fling ‘fore a bomb-happy general gets the go to nuke the town. While I respect this flick’s attempt to be a chuckle-worthy horror featurin’ a new breed of walkin’ dead, it leaves a lot to be desired in the story department. For every decent special effects scene involvin’ a zombie attack, there’s at least three unbearable scenes where the plot stalls for a buncha meaningless yammerin’ ‘mong yahoos strugglin’ to get their lines out. Not the easiest homemade feature to sit through, but at least it’s gotta pretty sweet theme song horror fans can add to their playlists. Severed hands, livin’ room massacres, blood pukin’ transformations, fourth wall breakin’ gags, nuclear explosions, research labs, blood vomitin’ galore, homophobia, roadside hook-ups, over the top car smashin’, street maulin’, army action, and overprotective check points! 2/5! 

LOCKOUT (2012)

When the US president’s daughter is caught in the middle of a prison riot in space, the CIA fires one of their disgraced agents into orbit to rescue her with smartass commentary. Often referred to as Escape From L.A. in space, this sci-fightin’ romp is constantly on the verge of somethin’ special but fails to make its mark with any real memorable moments or characters. Guy Pearce does an awesome job carryin’ the movie as its cynical badass with a soft side, but the script prevents him from truly knockin’ it outta the park with him performin’ ‘gainst a parade of cookie cutter inmates in a cartoony lookin’ future. Head buttin’, gunfire executions, stabbin’s galore, turncoat alliances, CIA moles, usurped presidencies, space divin’, jailbird cosplay, explosions, rough lookin’ motorcycle chases, sweet sets and spaceship models, brain damagin’ stasis, deep space ejectin’, and flash freeze fatalities! 3/5! 


It’s POV the movie as we follow a mute cyborg’s non-stop shoot ’em up romp through Moscow to save his scientist fer a wife from a telekinetic albino, and his army of super soldiers. While there’s plenty of found footage horror puttin’ us in the shoes of terrified victims, this is an interestin’ (and sometimes nauseas) take on first person shooter gameplay bein’ adapted fer the big screen in a feature that’d probably kill someone with motion sickness if watched in one of ’em 4D theme park seats with VR goggles strapped to their peepers. The story’s as thin as a princess rescuin’ video game and things get a little hectic to follow from time to time, but I like this ‘nough to wish there was a traditional cinematic version to enjoy. Airship escapes, parachutin’, sky labs, firefights galore, tanks, explosions galore, chest rippin’, heart rippin’, spare part stealin’, topless brothels, booger sugar, musical avatar clones, humna matchsticks, flamethrowers, motorcycle chases, fatal shrapnel, fatal freefalls, helicopter brawls, parkourin’, song-and-dance numbers, dislodged eyes, explodin’ heads, and folks bein’ decapitated with eyeballs! 3/5! 


A catatonic basket case and his homicidal sister are takin’ their livin’ dummy on the road to be as big a ventriloquist act as their dead mama was, but their plans fer fame and fortune are seriously derailed by alotta nonsense murderin’ and tryin’ to have an incest baby to carry their family name. This sucker has so many sweet things goin’ fer it from the cinematography to its core of an idea fer a killer dummy flick, it’s unfortunate how it just watches like the filmmakers made this shit up by the seat of their pants ‘fore desperately cobblin’ it together into any kinda coherent feature possibly inspired by the visual flair of Natural Born Killers. The one unforgettable thang this disasterpiece does offer, however, is a scene where the dummy bites a fella’s dick off after givin’ the clueless sap a blowjob. Ya won’t find Chucky or Annabelle doin’ that in one of their movies! Heroin overdoses, car jackin’, carcass puppeteerin’, severed fingers, Halloween massacres, kidnappin’, random bar dancin’ with shotguns, loony bin escapes, throat rippin’, flyin’ dummies, offscreen incest, fatal births, puppet babies, sicko snapshots, shoot ’em up stick-ups, molestin’, attempted rape, electrified deaths, and stripper auditions with boobs! 2/5! 


In the near future, criminals are imprisoned in digitized states to be reformed fer as long as it takes, but a roid ragin’ terrorist manages to bust outta computer jail and send the cops in a mad scramble to stop his quest for America’s return to democracy as an indestructible hologram in a powerful rubber suit. A bit of a Demolition Man knock-off, this sci-fightin’ action flick has a respectable ‘nough production value from recognizable actors to big set pieces and action sequences but suffers from poor pacin’ and shameful lack of character development for its hero cop performed by TV Tarzan, Joe Lara. Not bad fer a direct to video shoot ’em up with modest special effects, but a perfect example of a flick that missed the mark just ‘nough to fall short of somethin’ special. Explosions galore, bus jackin’, gunfire executions, flamethrowers, power overloads, mold press machines fer evil, confusin’ sex scenes with holograms, computer hackin’, political overthrows, future cars that look like soap box derby projects, electrical blastin’, hologram on hologram violence, bank robberies, cop killin’, and ridiculously easy VR target practices! 3/5!


As usual in a horror flick, a family blindly moves into a house unseen, and surprise surprise — it’s cursed. In this case, the house belonged to a devil worshippin’ mathematician who configured the place to be a gate to hell (’cause why not?), and the new homeowners are obsessed with openin’ it after their oldest young’n disappears in the cellar. Remindin’ me of director Lucio Fulci’s “Gates of Hell” trilogy, this flick looks fantastic and stars a talented cast but fails to effectively build tension with any satisfyin’ payoff. And as dumb as it sounds, I’m disappointed the gate’s purpose is never explored. Why did the mathematician want an express lane to hell? Did he wanna go there or was it made so the demon he worshipped could have a vacation getaway from his gruelin’ work torturin’ souls? Bottomless steps, Spirograph art, fancy Photoshoppin’ software, accidental geniuses, clues galore, Evil Dead nods with gramophones, bouncy balls, demonic goat men, soul crushin’ lines to the underworld, demon defyin’ doors, secret rooms, and gloom and doom endin’s! 2/5! 


When Michael dares to play the hottest new game in home entertainment terror, Brainscan, the horror lovin’ high schooler is manipulated into embarkin’ on a real-life murder spree by a demonic gamemaster named Trickster. A terrifically made movie with a criminally underrated villain, this borderline slasher does unfortunately have problems in the story department. Just what is Trickster’s endgame? Is he after Michael’s soul? What exactly are the consequences if Michael just stops playin’ the game? Does Michael’s dead mama issues really play any significant role in the development of his character through any of this? Well, SPOILERS — none of it matters! It’s all a fuckin’ mulligan by the end with everythin’ revealed to be a simulation the game zapped into his noodle. Such a waste of a cool horror villain! Eye gougin’, finger bendin’, head chowin’, CGI shitstorms, severed feet, stabbin’s galore, home invadin’, manhunt fatalities, playful dogs, keep away with body parts, human remains in the fridge, rock posters galore, horror movie clubs, monstrous appetites, Primus jammin’, computer phone servants, house parties, evidence burnin’, mind control, and crushin’ deaths! 3/5! 


A handful of confused strangers find each other after snoozin’ through a citywide evacuation and finds out it’s ’cause Earth’s bein’ invaded by killer arts and crafts robots a buncha evil fifth graders from space musta built. If these shoestring budget doomsday machines ain’t entertainin’ ‘nough fer ya, their sexist targets are. While I enjoy the comedic spats ‘tween the party hardy couple whose affection fer one ‘nother reminds me of Al and Peg Bundy from Married . . . with Children, it’s their companions’ ridiculously buddin’ romance that has me rollin’ with laughter. How often are audiences supposed to be happy a woman ends up in the arms of a fella who smacks her ’round while tellin’ her to shut-up and stay put most the time they’ve known each other? Only sour I’m knockin’ this black and white sci-fi fer, however, is its abruptly disjointed detours to the government’s side of the invasion which feels like its own separate flick as they plan the defeat of their ray blastin’ enemies with as much excitement as a janitor changin’ light bulbs one-handed. Painted laser ray deaths, noisy defenses, hotel hide-outs, well meanin’ lootin’, and jump scare corpses! 3/5!


After an earthquake creates a new volcano in Mexico, giant subterranean scorpions escape to the surface and wreak stop-motion havoc on surroundin’ villages ’til only one supreme bug remains fer a buncha eggheads to squish. A bit of a black and white snooze ’til it breaks out the puppet action in all its googly eye glory with drool, the one sour I have with this sucker is how it feels like it ends more than once with its repetitive risin’ and fallin’ climaxes makin’ it feel like serial chapters edited together to be a feature. Regardless, the cast is likeable ‘nough to be root worthy, and there’s plenty of Pee-Wee lookin’ special effects to enjoy. Phone line massacres, stingers to the chests, chinny chin chin weaknesses, monstrous cave explorin’, beast on beast violence, village massacres, big-ass worms and spiders, cave-ins, electrified spear gun huntin’ with meat, and romancin’ ranchers! 3/5! 


In an apocalyptic future where folks struggle to put the world back together, a nomadic gang of heroic Rangers make it their mission to avenge the death of a former brother-in-arms whose town has been overtaken by a neo-Nazi and his army of sci-fightin’ foot soldiers and dirt bikers. An interestin’ Texan take on The Road Warrior, this futuristic spaghetti western packs alotta unexpected twists and turns like the use of force fields and even manages to make me laugh a time or two such as when one Ranger tries hydratin’ his tortured buddy with water he didn’t know someone pissed in. Lotta bad-asses blowin’ through one action sequence after ‘nother, this ain’t high art, but it sure as hell is entertainin’! Russian roulette cheatin’, flesh bettin’, molestin’, rapin’, throat slittin’ suicides, explosions galore, settlement invadin’, knife throwin’ to the eye, enslavin’, salt mine escapes, salt shovelin’ torture, titty flashin’ attire, gunfire executions, and Native American attacks! 3/5! 


Runnin’ with the aftermath of the last sequel’s plot, gangs of folks with different agendas are huffin’ it through the boonies of Romania and eventually cross paths at an experimental camp where a cartoon snake of abnormal size has escaped and can heal from any fatal wound they deal it. A lukewarm creature feature from the Sci-Fi channel that’s best suited fer passin’ a rainy afternoon, the plot’s a little all over the place with competin’ clicks of characters complicatin’ a plot that’s already bogged down with baggage from the last flick’s story. Linden Ashby (Johnny Cage from Mortal Kombat) easily steals the spotlight as my favorite character fightin’ fer his life ‘gainst thugs and super CG snakes, but even his charmin’ screen presence can’t compensate fer half-hearted filmmakin’! Folks ripped in two, blood orchid garden, super snake serums, cave-ins, arm rippin’, gunfire executions, kidnappin’, explodin’ deaths, snake-o-vision, folks swallowed whole, super healin’ action, explodin’ reptiles, stabbin’s, head rippin’, and cartoony chases! 3/5! 


When a cheatin’ husband’s emotionally needy wife comes in contact with a giant radioactive man from space, she balloons to a jealous gargantuan on a mission to steal her man back from the claws of a hotel harlot. Semi-seriously presented silliness, this black and white classic does a great job settin’ up its players fer me to get invested in, but really botches the delivery on its promise of a rampagin’ lady of problematic proportions. Not only is she a pissed off eyesore for just a few scant minutes at the end of a measly hour runtime, the filmmakers humorously repeat the same 1-2 shots of her walkin’ everywhere, and with horrible blue screen effects that make her look like a gigantic ghost. Larger-than-life rubber hands, 30 ft transparent space invaders, spaceship balls runnin’ on stolen jewelry, hunchback lookin’ dances, public displays of horniness galore, attempted divorce, hotel smashin’, powerline explosions, fatal roof collapsin’, and butler brawlin’! 3/5! 


Suspicion leads to full blown paranoia as a small town doctor finds out his friends and neighbors are bein’ quietly replaced with copycat pea pods from space that transform ’em all into emotionless bein’s whose only concern is survival. The most famous of the e.t. doppelganger flicks from the 1950s, this sci-fi thriller is a nerve-rackin’ roller coaster of one fella’s valiant fight to love and be loved as he tirelessly rebels ‘gainst seemingly impossible odds. The replacement process is a little convoluted with its explanation fer what happens to the original town folk and the endin’ is too vague fer my taste, but still a solid watch with an unforgettable performance by Kevin McCarthy. Late night rescues, town conspiracies, world dominatin’ farmers, transformative slumberin’, needle stickin’ defenses, town wide manhunts, and lotta lotta lotta runnin’! 4/5! 


A hot air balloon ride crash lands a gang of middle age yahoos on an island full of low budget oddities, and they all answer to Dr. Frankenstein’s great granddaughter who has use fer the new arrivals in her immoral experiments fer keepin’ her 200 year ol’ hubbie alive, her ancestor’s lab assistant — Van Helsing! It’s phenomenal just how borin’ this sucker is despite all the craziness it manages to pack in. Even when the screen is filled with scantily clad jungle girls, brainwashed beatniks, and a last minute resurrection of the Frankenstein monster, it’s alotta humdrum silliness that feels like the filmmakers are just makin’ shit up as they go. A meanderin’ plot with no real escalation or characters worth carin’ ’bout, this is truly one of the worst flicks I’ve ever sat through, and that’s sayin’ somethin’! Final dogs, human hammock initiations, zombie beatnik brawls, crazy eyes, obnoxious pirates, tribal girl descendants of e.t.s, kidnappin’, remote hand spasms, annoyin’ projections of John Carradine’s inane yammerin’, machine gun defenses, lab brawls, interspecies blood transfusions, and fatal experimentin’! 1/5! 


When a scientist’s genius of a son is turned to road kill, he scoops his noodle into a behemoth of a machine to preserve his intellect for the benefit of mankind, but the fella’s lack of humanity warps him into a mad monster with bafflin’ psychic powers who decides to stare folks to death with death ray peepers at the United Nations buildin’. One helluva sweet cyborg flick nobody talks ’bout, this monster movie cuts deep with problems it thinks up fer someone bein’ turned into a machine while showin’ off one of cinema’s more outlandish robot costumes. A slow but unforgettable watch, the only sour nearly sinkin’ this sucker is its harsh ivory key soundtrack and super annoyin’ radio sound effects whenever the Colossus talks. Basement labs, psychic links, mind control lightshows, psychic predictions, giant stranger danger, family feuds, United Nations massacres, water logged brains doin’ math, and emergency shut-off valves fer killer lab experiments! 4/5! 

WEDLOCK (1991)

Followin’ a backstabbin’ diamond heist, Rutger Hauer is forced to escape a private correctional facility fittin’ prisoners with randomly linked explosive collars and save his hidden loot from crooked wardens and ex-partners. Sci-fi without goin’ overboard, this is one sweet prison flick that’s right up there with Fortress in my opinion. Lotta action, tense chase sequences, plenty of characters to love and hate, and a couple of memorable head explosions to boot! Feels like the movie reaches an endin’ point more than once with all the run around but a minor sour ‘mong so much sweet fun! Explodin’ mannequins, sensory deprevation holes, golden showers, poo water, prison yard brawls to the death, sexual treats fer good behavior, human shields, hotel massacres, explodin’ helicopters, boat stealin’, elevator chases, cliff jumpin’, white water raftin’ with no raft, cop disguises, car chases, explodin’ keychains, and weddin’ crashin! 4/5! 

DEMON COP (1990)

As told by Rod Serling wannabe Cameron Mitchell, a botched blood transfusion leaves a probation officer afflicted with a werewolf-like curse that turns him into a gang bustin’ killin’ machine, and he’s itchin’ fer someone to stop him. A hard watch, this bargain bin cheapie pulls out all the cinematic tricks and shortcuts to offer some semblance of a feature length flick. Instead of a cult classic like The Toxic Avenger, it’s endless voiceovers of folks’ journals and letters to fill gaps ‘tween scenes and longwinded conversations with nothin’ but characters’ backsides. But it’s almost worth fastforwardin’ through for the few funny scenes of the Demon Cop kickin’ cartoon criminals’ asses ‘fore attemptin’ emotional scenes in the most laughable voice that reminds me of Christian Bale’s impression of Cookie Monster takin’ an angry shit fer Batman. Just skip to the Demon Cop parts for a chuckle and call it a night. Man ass, fatal crossfire, face splattin’, lawn chair throwin’, and out of place computer effect deaths?! 2/5!

ENDGAME (1983)

In the Mad Max wannabe future of 2025, the star of a televised death match show is secretly hired to assemble a team of bad asses to transport folks out of the policed ruins of a irradiated New York but might just call it all off when he learns he’s actually bravin’ savage outlands for a bus full of powerful muties the government wants to exterminate. Nothin’ fancy ’bout this spaghetti flick, but it ain’t half bad in the story department and delivers a few excitin’ scenes with a memorable gang of tough guys. Wish they could’ve pumped up the action in the openin’ Running Man act, but I love the part where they fight a town of mad blind monks usin’ a captive psychic for their eyes! Stabbin’ galore, fatal karate choppin’, kickin’ galore, psychics, ape men, lizard men, head twistin’, mutant armies, shoot ’em up galore, dirt bike armies, fatal demonstrations, awkward rapin’, topless arm candy, axes to the head, mind control suicides, crossbow gauntlets, and powerful psychokinetic young’ns! 3/5!


A roamin’ gang of desert bikers called the Devil’s Advocates pull over to party next to a Satanic temple and are lulled by devil worshippers into a dark tolerance testin’ ritual that turns its head honcho couple into a couple of werewolves the rest have to defend themselves ‘gainst. Awesome title, sucky movie. This top shelf lookin’ lycan flick promises some kick-ass scenes with an interestin’ ‘nough parade of detestable personalities, but it ultimately pisses its runtime down the drain with meanderin’ road antics and a marathon of a hoodoo ceremony. If ya can make it to the end of this supernatural spin of Easy Rider, you will be rewarded with A werewolf on a motorcycle, but just for a minute. Full frontal snake dancin’, gas station flashin’, dry humpin’ threeway, road ragin’ beat ’em ups, monstrous quicker than the eye transformations, extreme stranger danger, blood guzzlin’ with bread, lotta devil chantin’, junkyard bonfires, biker brawls, and offscreen disembowelin’! 2/5!


Space pirates accidentally jack a big bad corporation’s ship with a CEO’s young’n onboard and futilely swipe at my heart strings as they bond with the doe eyed stowaway through a buncha backstabbin’ hijinks at an e.t.’s pit stop for criminals. There’s genuine effort here to produce a somewhat meaningful story, but this all just falls flat fer me with bland characters runnin’ from one snooze fest to the next written ’round alotta recycled sci-fightin’ footage and music from Battle Beyond the Stars. There’s a fun gag every now and ‘gain, the production value is nothin’ short of respectable, and I enjoy the e.t. design of the space station’s leader,  Zariatin, but overall, this is an unfortunate misfire in shortcut filmmakin’. Warehouse massacres, work droids, fatal laser shootin’, Groundhog Day space battles, stop-motion critters, fugly e.t. gals, bar brawls in space, quick draws with lasers, kidnappin’, spacecraft stealin’, and explosions galore! 2/5! 


After a Vietnam soldier loses his limbs to a landmine, his fiancee signs him up fer Dr. Stein’s DNA experiments to replace ’em, but Stein’s jealous assistant sabotages the surgery in an effort to steal the vet’s wife-to-be and devolves him into a lumberin’ brute of a cannibal compelled to tear folks apart. A solid blaxploitation flick overall, this ain’t in the same league as Blacula, but is entertainin’ in its own right. I’m genuinely invested in Blackenstein’s continuous run of bad luck and there’s ‘nough story to ever keep thangs from bein’ borin’ with Stein’s other experimental patients and Blackenstein’s laughable mix of victims. Blackenstein himself could’ve been more of a personality, but no serious sours to speak of. Chest rippin’, stranglin’, bafflin’ tiger legs, needle injectin’, lotta pointless lightshow lab equipment, fountain of youth treatments, rapid agin’, straight jacket fits, murderous outtin’s, stand-up comedy acts, jazz concerts, maulin’ with boobs, attempted rape, and dismemberment by ferocious packs of dogs! 3/5! 


A van full o’ water obsessed killers pick a college jock at random and tease him with confusin’ text messages ‘fore finally kidnappin’ him fer a homoerotic ritual with no happy endin’. A pretty disappointin’ slasher from the author of American Psycho, this Hollywood take on loosely theorized murders behind a string of suspicious drownin’s is far from entertainin’. The biggest sour bein’ the main character havin’ no idea he’s even in danger ’til he’s kidnapped near the end, just to meet a grisly fate with no character arc to speak of much less any insight into the killers’ motives. Skip. Streakin’ with taped up genitals, blood drainin’, gas station massacres, car wrecks, bullets to the face, hacked phones, head hammerin’, softcore bangin’ with boobs, lotta man ass, and kidnappin’! 2/5!


A rocket full of mutant stop-motion wasps crashes in the jungles of Africa known as Green Hell, and it’s up to a couple of rocket scientists to go on safari and destroy the big-ass buggers ‘fore they bang out a world conquerin’ family. This sucker is disappointin’ as all get out. Not only is the movie 95% yahoos hikin’ through an endless stock footage parade of jungle critters and angry tribes, but when our heroes finally face down the wasps, they completely blow it, and their whole quest is proven pointless as a volcano fortunately destroys the nest for ’em. Only thang worse is the uncomfortable romance ‘tween one of the older scientists and a gal half his age. Spear chuckin’ through chests, brush fires, deluges, fatal lappin’ from contaminated waters, claymation fightin’ ‘tween big-ass wasps and snakes, cave chases, mutant crabs, and fatal stingin’! 2/5! 


The troubled production of a low-fi skin flick ‘comes an indifferent rotatin’ door of death as a masked slasher keeps offin’ its leadin’ ladies, but the producers remain optimistic and cast a high profile bimbo to hopefully complete their picture. I’ve come to enjoy any movie directed by Fred Olen Ray, but this was a painful reminder how hard comedy can be. More Playboy humor than who-dunnit horror, the jokes are a toss up ‘tween cringe and chuckle worthy, and I found myself more interested in huntin’ fer Easter eggs from Ray’s other films like the recycled costume from Alientator. Drive-by wardrobe change with boobs, stranglin’ with celluloid, decapitatin’, liquor store stick-ups, wet tops, softcore hanky panky, awkward garbage turn ons, topless skinny dippin’, and Brinke Stevens as a gender swappin’ psycho! 2/5!


An African bogeyman is blowin’ through immigrants in a fireworks show of decapitations fer leavin’ Nigeria fer Miami, but when he finds out two silly detectives are a threat to his mission somehow, he slows his killin’ spree down fer alotta confusin’ shapeshiftin’ games that are unnecessarily drawn out when he’s already proven multiple times he can just kill ’em without any effort. This flick is a bit of a tough watch, and that’s only ’cause of its inconsistent ability to find that sweet balance ‘tween horror and comedy. While the scenes of the monster are few and far ‘tween with kills that range from seriously dark to parodies of Jaws, the majority of the runtime is spent on this straight act cop helpin’ her overly animated partner work through a comical divorce while beggin’ their boss fer more help on their ever growin’ caseload of beheadin’s. Tolerance testin’ as this is, however, my patience pays off with a monstrous chainsaw swingin’ finale that proves to be the best part of the flick. As sweet as this is, though, it’s still a little overshadowed by my burnin’ question fer why the monster has to go as far as swappin’ spit with the cop when pretendin’ to be his ex-wife? Supernatural doppelgangers, explosive swords, underwater ambushes, decapitations galore, chainsaw fightin’, severed arms, possibly severed knee caps, resurrections, shoot ’em up perps, chantin’ crowds, shamans, and phantom shoot-outs! 2/5!


After World War III leaves America a nuclear wasteland, the remainin’ soldiers of a California missile base build themselves a G.I .Joe’s wet dream of an all terrain battle vehicle and bust ass through a mean stretch of mutant wildlife, hostiles, and disastrous weather to see if there’s any civilization left in New York. A wildly imaginative apocalyptic flick with one of sci-fi’s most memorable vehicles “The Landmaster,” this watches like a heavily condensed mini-series that speeds through alotta rough scenarios I’m sure would carry more impact if allowed to simmer a bit. Folks are killed off as quickly as they’re introduced, their replacements are half-hazardly brought ‘long fer the ride without a whole lotta regard fer safety precautions, there’s workin’ slot machines that defy the rules of nuclear aftermath, and the blue screen effects from big-ass bugs to tie-dye skies are pretty touch and go from beginnin’ to end, but it’s too fun of a ride not too enjoy! Big-ass scorpions, flesh eatin’ roaches, frisky hillbillies, rock throwin’ young’ns, junkyard disasters, nudie mag mishaps, human matchsticks, explodin’ bases, nuclear strikes galore, tornadoes, tsunamis, free floatin’ vehicles, fatal tumbles, and dirt bike stunts galore! 4/5! 


In a post nuclear future, two wasteland armies wage war over gunpowder ‘stead of gasoline, and two comrades split up to rescue one of their abducted wives while the other hunts down a rumored potassium mine fer superior firepower. Pure non-stop shoot ’em up action, this flick has very little story or character beyond a buncha cardboard personalities runnin’ through yer typical damsel in distress video game plot of killin’ every bad guy on the way to a end game destination. It’s excitin’ stuff, sure, but without anyone fer me to care ’bout much less root fer, it’s just an hour and a half of relentless gunfire and explosions. Besides a rope swingin’ death match, the most memorable scene I took away from this is a gang of scared little folk bein’ doused in gas fer a helluvit execution. Don’t see that everyday! Explosions galore, gunfire galore, Mad Max wannabe attack vehicles, harem dungeons, attempted rapes, plunderin’, village massacres, stick fightin’, nicks and scratches that require combustible healin’, tribal romances, stabbin’s, cave-ins, and money grabbin’ bets with venomous snakes! 3/5! 


Professor Frankenstein works double-time as a genuine dick who’s secretly hodge podgin’ together a hunk of a teen freak he treats like lab equipment in his basement full of gators while bein’ one of the worst fiancés ever committed to celluloid to a hopeless romantic. Yup, I was naturally drawn to watch this black and white drive-in classic for its spin on the monster as a teenager, but his pop’s the real horror show I can’t wait to see get his comeuppance. His relationship (if ya wanna call it that) with his doe eyed fiancée is nothin’ short of a Ruin My Lifetime movie of the week, and the only thang more laughable than the breakin’ point bein’ him wantin’ to smuggle Teen Frank over international borders in pieces is the filmmakers’ startlin’ decision to suddenly have the movie in color ’cause someone gets electrocuted. Huh?! Offscreen car wrecks, corpse thievin’, face stealin’, home invadin’, escaped science projects, folks turned gator chow, electrocutin’, and stranglin’! 3/5! 


A joke of a scientist makes contact with a race of teepee shaped e.t.s from Venus and is manipulated into helpin’ one of ’em come to Earth on a quest fer peace that non-surprisingly turns out to be the first phase in interplanetary takeover with emotion killin’ mind control and electromagnetic pulse attacks. More talk than monster puppet action, this Roger Corman classic is a respectable flick with competent ‘nough actin’, but the real takeaway is Beverly Garland’s unforgettable rant at the monster ‘fore chargin’ into its infamous screen debut fer the grand finale ya have to see to disbelieve, Scream Freaks! Panned as one sci-fi’s sillier lookin’ monsters, I actually like the Venusian’s bizarre shape and how dramatically different it looks from most other humanoid booger beasts. Flyin’ star critters, mind controllin’, blowtorches to the eye, and messages from deep space! 3/5!


If ya seen Invasion of the Saucer Men, you’ve seen Attack of the Eye Creatures. Nearly a blow by blow remake of the campy classic, this flick spins the same tale of horn dog teens and out of town opportunists beggin’ the police to shoot e.t.s they encounter in the boonies ’til they figure out they can defeat the rubber suit invaders with their cars’ headlights. Barely a step-up from the original with this sucker bein’ in color, I hoped it would at least offer more impressive lookin’ monsters, but they barely live up to the title as these bulbous marshmallow men with big honkin’ zippers in the back. They’re put to much better use in The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini. Severed e.t. hands with minds of their own, teens parkin’, angry old farmers with shotguns, explodin’ UFOs, e.t. roadkills, executions by headlights, and balloon blowin’ breathalyzer tests! 2/5!


An ego-trippin’ doctor injects himself with an experimental serum concocted from a flesh eatin’ parasite to cure his cancer, but he gets more than he bargains fer as he’s transformed into a skinless acid vomitin’ freak with a taste fer carcasses and decides now’s a good a time as any to act on his lust fer his reluctant lab partner. An impressively ambitious indie that makes the best with what little it’s got on a shot on video budget, this all too familiar tale of mad science exploits its limitations to their fullest and manages to make a fairly memorable flick full of DIY gore and nudity with a monster who reminds me of Kevin Bacon’s Hollowman crossed with Jeff Goldblum’s Brundle Fly. I don’t know why everythin’ happens in one place as if the filmmakers were under house arrest or why they think it’s important fer me to see a woman full on piss in a bucket, but I’m willin’ to forgive these oddball decisions in light of what they accomplished. Full frontal bush, dongs in a literal bloodbath, face peelin’, puppet dissectin’, inside out dog puppets, head pummelin’, face meltin’, limb eatin’, whip action tongues, hand tearin’, romantic fast food dinners, full blown body meltdowns, kidnappin’, and mace hidden in vaginas! 3/5! 


In an apocalyptic settin’ that could very well be sharin’ real estate with The Road Warrior, a militant band of marauders cruise the wastelands in a souped-up semi fer a mobile headquarters and meet their match when their leader’s daughter defects into the arms of a community’s fearless dirt biker. A decent Mad Max wannabe overall, this has ‘nough fender bender action to keep me interested in seein’ its toyetic foes battle it out on the back roads of New Zealand, but lacks any interestin’ character arc to really pull me into the heart of the story. One of the best moments is when the hero trades his dirt bike fer an armed stunt buggy and tears through the bad guys’ camp like a gimmicky RC toy commercial! Crossbows to the shoulder, malformed hands, stabbin’s galore, kidnappin’, beatdown initiations, tolerance testin’ helicopter shots, village massacres, explosions, fatal freefallin’ wrecks, and bazooka action! 3/5! 


Before a private contractor unveils his new crime fightin’ toon bot, he hires a professional storyteller to help develop its ability to recognize society’s biggest threats with a buncha twisted supernatural tales full of thieves and murderers at their worst. A decently entertainin’ sequel with a hysterically funny Keith David replacin’ Clarence Williams III as the devilish host, Mr. Simms, this top shelf lookin’ anthology boasts some humorously meaningful stories with alotta great actin’, but completely bombs when it comes to all their endin’s save the “Robo Hell” wraparound. Fer all the great set-ups its tales have with “Good Golly” and “The Medium” bein’ my favorites, most of ’em close out on a frustratingly sour note with confusin’ twists and ill fittin’ comeuppance. Especially in the clever yet overly preachy segment, “The Sacrifice,” which still baffles me why exactly the councilman was required to die to keep history on track given what little I know ’bout time travel. I still prefer the original Tales From the Hood, but this sucker’s worth a watch if just to see Keith happily hollerin’ ’bout “The shit!”. Torso chompin’ doors, dry humpin’ with larger than life gollie dolls, explodin’ gollie doll births, disembowlein’ whippin’, possessions, fatal punchin’, kidnappin’, home invadin’, head twistin’, glass eatin’, psychic show phonies, electrocutions, paranormal time travelin’, KKK dystopias, vampy ladies, roofies, and cartoon lasers galore! 3/5! 


While sneakin’ through a mysterious graveyard to a surprise endin’, Tony Todd gets an earful of a little girl’s humdrum tales featurin’ real estate scandals gone to hell, monologue heavy racists, Skeleton Key wannabes, and ironic voodoo justice. With the exception of Tony’s wraparound and the chuckle worthy tale of a guy rapidly decomposin’ in a pair of cursed kicks, this wet blanket of a sequel is nowhere near as fun or witty as the first two Tales From the Hood. As saturated of laughs as it is color, especially with no Mr. Simms to liven things up, these tales are painfully predictable with all too familiar twists and just a drag to watch. The best part of the movie fer me is rememberin’ a little girl is tellin’ the story when a kook in one of the more slightly clever segments happily orders a prop in his inflatable threeway to have some of his ass taco! Only recommended for die-hard Hood fans. Human matchstick ghosts, spooky prank calls, arson, bullets to the chest, fatal punch-outs, shitty britches, livin’ rigormortis, spiritual switcheroos, human zoos, demon young’ns, axe murderers, kidnappin’s, and decapitated ghost brats! 3/5!


Desperate fer YouTube views, a pair of urban explorers scuba dive to the bottom of a man-made lake to check out an underwater mansion and quickly find out it’s haunted by the ghosts of kiddie killin’ Satan worshippers who want ’em to stick ’round fer all the wrong reasons. Better than I expected, this gimmick of a (mostly) found footage flick delivers on creeps and tension while keepin’ things engagin’ with the two divers talkin’ and even listenin’ to music through their head gear, but is a little hard to follow at times with everythin’ shrouded in heavy shadows and debris ‘long with sporadically cut action sequences. Despite these minor sours, however, it’s a solid story with a clever spin on the ol’ haunted house tropes and even borrows a little bit from Event Horizon ‘fore all’s said and done. Supernatural influences, stabbin’s, hooks in limbs, underwater drones, paranormally blocked exits, torture chambers, drownin’s, and larger than life crucifixes! 3/5! 


When two sisters take their mama back to their childhood home to deal with her dementia, she accidentally restarts a whole slew of bad luck she forgot surrounded a demon possessed Humpty Dumpty doll she already defeated years ago . . . or did she? This British flick has ‘nough interestin’ ideas and movie makin’ skill for a fairly entertainin’ movie, but it unfortunately drops the ball as far as execution is concerned. It constantly beats me over the head with endless scenes establishin’ the state of the mom’s mental health which was accomplished in the first two minutes, the twist is telegraphed so early on, it’s frustratin’ havin’ to wait fer the other characters to catch up, and worse yet — the filmmakers try pullin’ one of ’em Fight Club endin’s that might dismiss the whole killer doll theme. Good lookin’ actresses and a couple of effective scares in a cheap dummy costume is all this really has to offer when all’s said and done. Stabbin’s, buried bodies, tragically bloody pasts, and ritualistic sacrifices! 2/5!


An astronomer discovers a crashed meteorite is really an e.t. vessel, but ’cause law officials are too lazy to dig out his wild claim, the town finds itself invaded by shapeshiftin’ doppelgangers just lookin’ to leave their dirtball planet. The black and white 3D classic that kick-started the body snatchin’ trend buncha ’50s sci-fi flicks would ‘come known fer, this is a real solid production featurin’ some wild lookin’ puppet peepers from space. I find it laughable how dismissive everyone seems to be fer investigatin’ the meteorite crash site and can’t help but chuckle at some of the deep dialogue blue collar workers spew (thanks to Ray Bradbury contributin’ to the script), but the real sour to fault the movie fer is its lack of tension and stakes. Other than a few people missin’ with imposters in their place with no hostile motives, what am I supposed to be on the edge of my seat fer? U.F.O.s on strings, explosions, kidnappin’, painted laser rays, big ol’ ray guns, fatal freefalls, home invadin’ closet thefts, e.t. peeper-o-vision, and quick shot of a dead coyote! 3/5! 


With absolutely nothin’ to do with Evil Dead, Evil Dead Trap is ’bout killer mutant brothers trickin’ a late late show host into bringin’ her TV crew to their abandoned factory hideaway so they can kidnap her to replace their absent mama. The first bizarre entry in a trilogy starrin’ a fetal mastermind, this Japanese flick plays like a forebodin’ spaghetti horror with some nutso action that questionably flip flops ‘tween bein’ supernatural or not. The guiltiest example of this is when a gal is pierced by bafflin’ larger than life stakes that erupt outta nowhere. Is this an elaborate booby trap or some reality bendin’ attack? Aside from that and sex scenes that linger waaay too long fer comfort (consensual or not), this flick does manage to reel me in with its bonkers reveal of the chest burstin’ fetus slasher at the end and wanna see the rest of this series. Definite and questionable rape with boobs, mind warped watch dogs, umbilical cord stranglin’, self sacrificin’ suicides, human matchsticks, fatal freefalls, decapitations, stabbin’s galore, crossbow shootin’, arrows to the head, booby trapped doors, blades to the side of the face, bottle rocket action, and mutant killers hidin’ in their victims’ ovaries! 3/5!


Church hatin’ nudists commit suicide after cursin’ Bible thumpers for shuttin’ down their colony and now rise from their graves for revenge by dismemberin’ the periodic spiritual retreat for the town’s horn dog teens. Havin’ watched the restored version that hacks together original footage with shot-on-video back-ups and redone credit sequences, I didn’t know what to expect from this flick, but I can honestly say I was pretty let down by the time the end credits rolled. It kicks off with hags, boobs, and an amazin’ theme song every horror fan should add to their Halloween playlist, but then spends most the run time on a van full of victims who’re just a buncha one note characters repeatin’ the same jokes over and over ‘gain ‘stead of actually tellin’ a story with the briefest topless ghoul action in the third act. Even worse — this is a fuckin’ musical! Nothin’ wrong with that mind ya, but I saved my eardrums the strain and just fast forward through that noise, savin’ me from watchin’ as much as a third of the movie. Folks cut in half, runnin’ leg props, suicide pacts, posionin’, campsite massacres, yackin’ decapitated heads, human roadkill, Bible swallowin’, fatal freefalls from cliffs, no flesh eatin’, ear severin’, no dongs, drivin’ dead, lowest hangin’ tits ever committed to celluloid, redneck strip poker, helicopter rescues, raps, and unexpected twist endin’s! 2/5! 


Men are bein’ replace by alcohol hatin’ e.t. doppelgangers needin’ to mack on their Earth wives to keep their race from goin’ the way of the dodo, but one housespouse is on to their plans and looks for help from anyone who’ll believe her. Kind of a less paranoid fueled version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, this is a solid monster movie through and through’, but the characters ain’t all that compellin’, and there’s barely any escalation of danger. The most entertainin’ parts are the unexpected bursts of violence from a stalker shootin’ a cop in broad daylight to e.t.s zappin’ hussies dead in the street. Worst scene is the unbelievable treatment of a new pet dog whose screen time is really short if ya know what I mean. Spaceship invadin’, freefloatin’ folks, kidnappin’s, gunpoint street executions, accidental murder by oxygen, disintegratin’ rays, doggies killed offscreen, and oatmeal meltdowns! 3/5! 


After a small town manages to poison a big ass tarantula and stuff its carcass in the high school gym fer study, a band’s rowdy jam session rocks the critter back to life to be defeated all over ‘gain as it rampages through the streets. A stereotypical 1950s drive-in flick with hot roddin’ teens and lawmen fightin’ a live action critter through the magic of trick photography, this ain’t a bad watch. What’s really surprisin’ is the gore I didn’t expect to see, from a car wreck victim gettin’ blood splattered ‘cross his face in the openin’ scene to shots of victims the spider drained to mummified husks of a bein’s. Only sour worth mentionin’ is the annoyin’ dialogue and motives ‘tween the high school sweet hearts who first warn the town ’bout the mysterious mutant eatin’ their friends and family. Skeletons galore, curiously well lit caves, fatal swattin’, crushed spiders, fatal freefalls with impalement, electrocutions, explosions, house wreckin’, car wrecks, major extermination jobs, and pea shooter defenses! 3/5!


Deep in the jungle, a tribe’s witch doctor helps a mad scientist combine the magic of voodoo with biochemicals to turn folks into fugly super bein’s, and just when they didn’t think they had the right test subject, a homicidal treasure hunter trades herself as a guinea pig fer gold while her captive tour guide fights fer an escape from the movie. A competent black and white flick with likeable heroes and damsels as well as entertainin’ villains, the only thang I’d bash this fer is its lack of monster footage and failure to ramp up the action the first (and what should’ve been the only) time the femme fatale’s turned into the cursed voodoo woman. I’d like to think the filmmakers were shyin’ ’round the monster fer a big reveal at the end, but I think they were just too embarrassed to show this recycled booger suit from The She-Creature (1956). Fatal gunshots to the back and gut, golden idols, monstrous dissolves, emotionally abused trophy wives, spears to the back, basement laboratories, attempted human sacrifices at the stake, insta-telepathy, voodoo dolls, conga drum concerts, lap singers, offscreen rape and murder, and one of the stupidest falls to someone’s death ever committed to celluloid! 3/5! 


In response to an underdwellin’ dragon woman tryin’ to rule the world with a small army of rubber suit monsters, a scientist turns a willin’ soldier into a chop socky cyborg hero with incredibly convenient super powers and turns him loose on the invadin’ enemies with explosive results. If ya seen Masked Rider, Ultraman, or Power Rangers, ya pretty much seen Super Inframan. It’s all the same high kickin’, painted laser mayhem I’ve seen a bajillion times ‘fore, complete with a hot minute of spontaneous larger than life fist fightin’ on top of miniatures. Regardless, it’s still a fun watch with barely any story to follow, and the endin’ is a beat ’em up bonkers of an extravaganza ya gotta see to disbelieve! Punchin’ galore, kickin’ galore, explosions galore (but not as many as ya might expect), brainwashin’, kidnappin’, monstrous boat rides, fatal freefalls to the Earth’s core, turncoat spies, mutant bug crushin’, plant tentacle fightin’, heroic transformations, monsters galore, dirt bike chases, car wrecks, human matchsticks, fast freeze fight moves, icy confinement, monstrous decapitatin’ galore, boneyard brawls, robot slinky fightin’, laser shootin’ galore, explosive trick hands, and some of the most confusin’ cybernetic surgeries ever committed to celluloid! 3/5! 


A fearless cop with interpersonal hang-ups is seriously peer pressured into a new crime unit that uses a drug for takin’ a bite outta crime as werewolves, but this pack’s alpha ain’t all he seems to be the closer they come to cleanin’ up the streets fer good. While this flick has everythin’ from a respectable cast to a swank lookin’ production in its favor, it’s ultimately a snooze of a shallow action thriller featurin’ a two-pistol firin’ hero with as much personality as a pair of shades who doesn’t even go feral ’til almost an hour in. In desperate need of a little fun and characters with dimension, the one thang that almost makes this sucker worth watchin’ is its full blown werewolf fight at the end. Stress on “almost.” Garden party massacres, hot pursuits on foot, super jumpin’, drive-by shootin’s, club terrorists, sneaky hostage rescues, bodily fluid removal, bangin’ initiations without boobs, injectin’ galore, super workouts, monstrous transformations, confusin’ Wolverine claws, drug bust massacres, monstrous mugs, and bullet swallowin’ suicides! 2/5!


In a far flung future, an ex-miner plots her escape from space after bein’ wrongly sentenced to hard time on a cramp little prison ship full of feisty caged women under the watch of a masochistic warden and her torture happy crew. A women in prison flick set in outer space from B movie favorite Fred Olen Ray sounds like an awesome time to turn yer noodle off fer, but this sucker unfortunately fails to match my enthusiasm. Despite its respectable production value, it fails to give me a heroine with any substance much less character development to break her out from the rest of her one note cellmates and horribly squanders its more engagin’ heavies in one forgettable scene after ‘nother. This should be waaay more fun that it is with more cheesy scene chewin’ dialogue, laser fightin’, and boobs thrown in, but at least I get to see the e.t. from The Deadly Spawn get recycled for a space booger the jail birds gotta fight. Space leech bitin’, whippin’, offscreen paddlin’, puppet fightin’, flash o’ boobs while gettin’ dressed, malformed hands, little person violence, cat fightin’, humorous harmonica diddies, deadly frisbee slop plates, hand severin’, explosions, dry humpin’ with motorboatin’, ghost priests, misguided holy rollers, mind control procedures, mutant rat puppets, and ittie bittie RC bots! 2/5!


When two teens’ mama ends up in a coma, their whisked away to their estranged whack jobs fer grandparents’ house where they find a mysterious hole in the wall revealin’ past family shame tied to a blood vomitin’ ghost. A stylish supernatural drama from Thailand, this flick keeps my interest with its engagin’ character interactions and twisty reveals behind the forebodin’ hole in the wall, but it does get a little too convoluted fer its own good. While I can forgive the family’s overcomplicated backstory fer their tragic past, the movie’s distractin’ subplots is where I start demandin’ cuts to the runtime due to a poor set-up fer the drama behind the mom’s car accident to the daughter’s confusin’ slut shamin’ side story over a peepin’ Tom’s video of her in the locker room shower. Maybe it’s a cultural thang. Disappearin’ ghost holes, poisoned kitties, fatal milk guzzlin’, near fatal hit-and-runs, human matchsticks, daddy justice, lotta blood vomitin’, obnoxious pervs, fuedin’ cheerleaders, handicap hatin’, bloody noses, shapeshiftin’ ghosts, and bum raps fer murder! 3/5!  


An undercover pip squeak is kinda-sorta-maybe-not really killed on the job tryin’ to bust the ringleader of her city’s gang problem and is turned into the police department’s newest experimental weapon ‘gainst crime with insta-healin’ nanotechnology, an assload of guns, and a bullet proof bike. If ya suck all the cleverness and humanity outta Robocop, add a pinch o’ Universal Soldier, and set it in a slightly confusin’ Demolition Man-ish dystopia where nano tech exists in a world where folks still use flashbulb cameras from the 1950s, ya get The Demolitionist. Every character is so flat and one dimensional, it’s comical whenever its leadin’ ass-kicker Nicole Eggert tries havin’ a meaningful moment with any emotional impact. Between her rushed introduction and lack of development as the Demolitionist, there’s just nothin’ fer me to invest in much less root fer as she blows bad guys away in some of the laziest shoot ’em up sequences I’ve ever seen. This flick has one savin’ grace, however, and that’s writer/director Robert Kurtzman from KNB EFX Group castin’ an impressive round-up of who’s who in horror movies to play the secondary characters like a never-endin’ string of cameos. Makes fer a fun game to try and spot ’em all. Hotel shoot-em ups, bank shoot-em ups, self sacrificin’ games of Russian roulette, wishy washy pseudo-science, electric chair executions, accidental deaths by electrified pee, jailbreaks, bullets to the face, explosions galore, unfortunate tan colored pants, self drivin’ bikes that explode, acupuncture chairs inducin’ visions of devils, self healin’ wrist slashin’, rapid decomposin’, mens room meet-ups, city hall ambushes, botched taser attacks, and ear rippin’! 2/5! 

SCREAM (2022)

Ghostface survivors can’t believe Woodsboro is bein terrorized by ‘nother movie obsessed killer callin’ their asses ‘fore he guts ’em, and this time the murders center ’round the descendants of the folks involved in the original murder spree started by Billy and Stu in ’96. A completely unnecessary sequel – requel – whatever ya wanna call it, I feel like this sucker shoots itself in the foot parodyin’ the very trend it’s pokin’ fun at regardin’ fans’ extreme reactions to Hollywood’s laziness to constantly rinse-repeat bankable properties through the theaters with controversial results. This time, Scream’s knack fer bein’ a self aware horror kinda backfires, and it ‘comes the very movie it’s makin’ fun of which makes it a buzzkill of a lackluster watch. As a casual fan, I don’t give a shit ’bout any of the new characters, I ain’t too fond of what’s done with the series’ mainstays, and worst of all — it’s missin’ that fun factor Wes Craven always managed to slip in there without fail. His directorial presence is sorely missed. Stabbin’s galore, instant human matchsticks, surprisingly strong little girls, ridiculous hospital ambushes, impaled hands, cloned phones, redneck flings, throat slittin’, bullets to the chest, near fatal freefalls, knives through the neck, a tolerance testin’ sequence of bogus scares, home invadin’, mama drama, and ghost dads! 3/5!


On the warpath to exterminate every vamp killer in Mexico, a mean she-vamp has a change of plans when she learns a kindly vampirette has the cure fer sunlight in an experimental prescription, but she’ll have to fight through a bus full of fang hunters lead by rocker Jon Bon Jovi to get it. A spiritual sequel to John Carpenter’s Vampires, this sucker’s a well made film with all the benchmarks of decent storytellin’ accented by the bells and whistles of gory special effects, but it lacks character development, originality, plot consistency regardin’ the villainess’ goals, and more importantly — a fun factor. Without someone like James Woods bringin’ pizzazz to this thang, it’s just a soulless run of the mill action flick I never care to see twice. Most memorable moment is the oldest son from Family Matters puttin’ on his best tough act as he bows outta the picture sayin’, “You ain’t lived ’til you got head from a vampire.” Arrows through the torso, vampires harpooned and turned into screamin’ bonfires, decapitations galore, impaled hearts galore, confusin’ blood transfusions, church massacres, telepathic visions, thermal spyglasses, dirt naps, throat slittin’ galore, diner massacres, kidnappin’s, speedy bloodsuckers, spear fishin’ fer vamps, tow line strategies, ritual sacrifices, leg drainin’, attempted burnin’ at the stake, stake firin’ guns, sword fightin’, car wrecks, and blowjobs that make you vampires’ lackeys! 3/5! 


A TNT happy construction crew in the Caribbean accidentally blows claymation dinos outta extinction from a watery grave, and when their bafflin’ preserved carcasses are reanimated by a random bolt of lightenin’, all hell breaks loose as islanders ‘come dino lunch while a reawakened caveman is comically introduced to cross dressin’. A fun little slice of dino cinema ‘fore Jurassic Park turned every prehistoric themed flick into computer algorithms, this charmin’ monster movie never takes its self too seriously, packs a couple of gory surprises I don’t expect, and offers a nice round-up of quirky characters worth hecklin’ for all the best reasons. I kinda feel like the caveman wasn’t used to his fullest potential storywise, and the star young’n of this thang gets annoyin’ quick, but it’s all still entertainin’ none the less. Last stand fortresses, underwater rescues, prehistoric sized fishin’ tales, bus crushin’, Play-Doh stunt doubles, town drunk snackin’, flesh eatin’ t-rexes, dino back ridin’, overdone caveman gags involvin’ wonders of the 20th century, friendly brontosaurus, t-rex versus mechanical diggers, young’n abuse, steel drum nightlife, fatal freefalls from cliffs, and quicksand deaths! 3/5! 


After a music therapist rocks a confused rubber room resident into rememberin’ he’s a demon’s perma grin assassin who haphazardly traded his soul to avenge his wife’s murder with super powers from Hell, his underworld drama turns her life upside down as she gets mixed up in his over the top fight outta his contract ‘gainst a kinky cult knockin’ on Satan’s door. When I hear the talents behind flicks like Bride of Re-Animator made a hard hittin’ Spawn wannabe based on an erotically gory comic fer adults (published years ‘fore McFarlane’s hit funny book FYI), I’m all in! Unfortunately, the editin’ of this down ‘n dirty super flick suffers from a wonky narrative structure cut at a pretty franetic pace. Scenes that’re supposed to develop characters and create an unravelin’ mystery just feel rushed and jumbled, leavin’ me confused by the villains’ overall reason for openin’ a gate to hell and indifferent to anyone’s plight. This is just ridiculous ‘nough to check out thanks to Screaming Mad George’s unforgettable creatures and effects, but I much prefer the filmmakers’ first time out adaptin’ super duper literature, The Guyver! Throat slittin’, satanic orgies, BDSM torture chambers, upsettin’ metal tunes, contemplative suicide, slashin’ galore, subway trains cut in half, rape trauma daddy issues, big ass puppet monsters from hell, human matchsticks, gut dwellin’ pythons fed into puppet heads, dinner party bloodbaths, floggin’, caged beauties, gals turned to puddles of ass and squirtin’ boobs, BDSM brainwashin’, monstrous off-screen transformations, bird flippin’ heroes, soul dealin’, flesh dissolvin’ acid, live burials, hell brawlin’ skeletons, portals to hell, dark rituals, shish kabob henchmen, and heart eatin’! 2/5! 


After a cock-blocked night in bed with a bloodsuckin’ cougar, a high schooler reluctantly finds himself turnin’ into a vampire and, with the help of his friend and a ol’ bat of a mentor, outwits obsessed fang killers while scorin’ a date with the band geek of his wet dreams. Waaay better than I expected, this flick is like watchin’ Buffy the Vampire Slayer if Buffy were the vampire and is a fun flashback to how I wanna ‘member the 1980s with all its ridiculously layered fashion, pizza parlor neon, and overly hysterical songs. There ain’t any gore or boobs to see, but the rockin’ soundtrack, teenage hijinks, and David Warner cast as the Van Helsing wannabe more than makes up for that. Late night nookie with underwear ads, shower dreams with castratin’ nuns, trick mirrors, lotta car chases, jump cut wolf transformations, flyin’ teens, car thefts, crossbow stakes, handbooks to bein’ a vampire, pig blood drinks of all varieties, homophobia, finger suckin’, mansion torchin’, mi-stakin’ identities, and cruel intentions toward upset canines! 4/5! 


A scientist luckily figures out how to regrow limbs usin’ reptile DNA just ‘fore losin’ his own arm in an automatic door accident, but one major side effect is his new appendage keeps runnin’ off as a sentient tentacle creature with more regeneratin’ in its place. Can he perfect the mutation fer the better of mankind ‘fore his smotherin’ fat cat mama steals his formula for a fat check? I would think Fangoria Magazine could make a great horror movie given — well — they’re FANGORIA, but their attempts are always “meh” at best. In this case, I’m excited to watch a mad scientist flick with special effects and creatures by KNB EFX Group and talents like Garrett Morris (Chocolate Chip Charlie from The Stuff!) on screen, but the lead actor ain’t all that compellin’, the cinematography feels flat, and the directin’ lacks any creative vision. Perfect example of an interestin’ ‘nough flick deservin’ a better executed remake. Small armies of reptile arms, lotta limb regeneratin’, hand bitin’ reptile puppets, human DNA blenders, mute love interests, monstrous leg growin’, family of handicaps, kidnappin’s, gene splicin’ with full body regeneratin’, chokin’, and chests impaled with monster puppets! 2/5! 


While pickin’ up a few bucks as a shit shack handler, Henry ‘comes buds with a professional arsonist and introduces the torch to the stress relievin’ perks of murder ’til their friendship breaks bad. A completely unnecessary sequel, this flick tries its best at copycatin’ the nasty energy of the original without bein’ a total rehash, and nearly succeeds, but fails to capture that raw tenacity that kept me glued to the screen the first time ’round. Neil Giuntoli does a bang-up impression of Michael Rooker’s performance of Henry to keep things feelin’ consistent, but unfortunately, the story’s so damn depressin’, there’s zip entertainment to be had in all its forgettable doom and gloom. Awkward sex scenes with no boobs, bullet to the head suicides, emotionally disturbed girlfriends, throat slittin’, stabbin’s galore, explosions, kidnappin’, home invadin’, decapitatin’, suffocatin’ with pillows, roofied drinks, arson galore, neck snappin’, impaled noses, stranglin’ with trash bags, offscreen dismemberment, and dry humpin’ homeless shelter rape! 2/5! 


As a monstrous killer is makin’ headlines in the news, sweet ol’ doormat Denny is out to prove love conquers all when she falls fer a bum who’s cursed to turn into a hideous demonoid whenever he’s sexually triggered. A sweet little flick that’s as funny as it is charmin’, this forgotten gem from the house that Freddy built deserves a watch by horror comedy fans everywhere. The leadin’ lovebirds have genuine screen chemistry, every character is worthy of me rootin’ fer or ‘gainst ’em, and the special effects are terrifically over the top from monstrous transformations to explodin’ heads! Flyin’ rescues, explodin’ cars galore, kidnappin’, demonic possessions, street fortune tellers, subway sax playin’, home thefts, psychics, demonoid dry humpin’, stabbin’s, manglin’, demon killin’ daggers, fruit burgers, castle hideouts, birthday pizzas, and shapeshiftin’! 4/5! 


The aftermath of the first flick is revisited with a confusin’ mulligan as Doctor Carnage and his victims rise from the dead at the hospital fer more Photoshop mayhem, but just when the gore starts flyin’, the movie takes an unexpected turn and devotes the majority of its skimpy runtime to the godfather of gore, Herschell Gordon Lewis, readin’ an entirely unrelated fairy tale ’bout fucked up live action versions of Red Ridin’ Hood and the Big Bad Wolf fightin’ crooked cops in cartoon land. Don’t get me wrong, the Terror Toons movies are a hair’s breadth from bein’ totally unwatchable, but I absolutely hate how the filmmakers completely abandoned Satan’s plot for world conquest established in the last two movies and dupe me with this bait and switch bullshit to watch some inconsequential short crammed with Adult Swim humor cranked to 11. Even worse, the few minutes actually actual meant to be a Terror Toons sequel has zero plot. It’s just an unrelentin’ fever dream of chaotic splatter gore explodin’ ‘cross the screen in a bloodbath of home video practical effects and cut ‘n paste animation. I say skip it, and fangs crossed part 4 is closer to how these weirdo flicks were started! Gore galore and full frontal fer boys and girls with boobs big ‘nough to destroy buildings! 2/5! 


When a gang of green lookin’ real estate investors try auctionin’ off a ghost town in Texas as the next hot spot for hipster renovations, they accidentally stress an ol’ local to death whose passin’ brings a pissed off Leatherface outta retirement to avenge her with an unrelentin’ bloodbath. Kinda its own direct sequel to the original Hooper flick, this is the best installment in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre series I’ve seen in awhile, but it’s love/hate fandom at best. I dig the look and feel of this movie with its stylized camerawork intensified by a fantastically grim soundin’ score, and I absolutely love how fresh the story feels with the whole downtown scenario as opposed to the usual breakdowns and haunted house plots Leatherface’s movies are best known fer. Regardin’ the sours, however, the cast is far from convincin’ as a buncha land barons, the usual callin’ cards of a Chainsaw flick like cannibalism and psycho kin are completely absent, and worst of all — the filmmakers steal ideas from 2018’s Halloween and turn Texas Chainsaw’s original last girl Sally into an obsessed gun-totin’ watchdog like Laurie Strode which comes off as silly as Leatherface deflectin’ bullets with his saw. It’s the details over Leatherface’s retconned history that leave me hopin’ the filmmakers start the timeline all over ‘gain in the next one. Onscreen decapitations with a chainsaw, uppercuts with a chainsaw, sewage baths, crawlspace chases, party bus massacres, folks chainsawed in half, severed limbs galore, jaw rippin’, disembowlein’, face rippin’, head smashin’ with oxygen tank, ambulance wrecks, heart attacks, chainsaws to the gut, peculiar waterholes, staged corpses, hammer chuckin’, murder evidence hidey holes, and fatal ass whoopin’s! 3/5!


Satan’s son (the Antichrist?) continues Hell’s master plan to collect suckers’ souls with cursed bargain bin DVDs unleashin’ live-action toons on a murder spree, and he sets up shop at one poor girl’s birthday party he sics twisted versions of Hansel and Gretel on. Featurin’ Microsoft Paint lookin’ special effects, this shallow sequel is more or less a rehash of the original with new gore gags and party store costumes. The whole concept o’ the cartoon world and Hansel and Gretel’s monstrous origins don’t make a lick o’ sense given Devil Jr’s supposedly doodlin’ these guys into existence, the rules to who lives and dies durin’ a game of musical scares is confusin’, and some scenes have so little story, I just fast forward ’til something actually happens. That said, however, this is a truly bizarre indie flick to behold with some memorable upchuck worthy gore and deserves a little recognition for its resourceful originality. Head hammerin’, body horror cooties, monstrous transformations, arm rippin’, skin tearin’, needles in the ass, sloppy brain transplants, fatal ticklin’, explodin’ hearts, interdimensional portals, throwdowns with Satan’s seed, eye gougin’ with electric bolts, superhero transformations, traps, throat slittin’, and explodin’ birthday clowns with cracked brain spillin’ baskets! 2/5!


After a pharmaceutical company with a TV station kidnaps Kong from his island kingdom to be its new company mascot, the big ape gets loose in Japan and aimlessly wanders ’round ’til he crosses paths with one of Godzilla’s destructive strolls for an uphill street brawl. Seein’ the heavily re-edited American cut from Universal, this flick is a dumpster fire of a narrative mess. The story’s as thin as they come, there’s pointless subplots without any context, the repetitive Godzilla belch grates my last shred of tolerance, and a buncha hacked out scenes are lazily replaced with lame ass space station broadcasts featurin’ cardboard actors forcin’ what little plot there is ‘long from a church rec room. Significant ‘nough to watch at least once, but this rubber monster mash-up is ’bout as awful as they come. Flyin’ monkeys, Kong airdrop, voltage eatin’, longwinded tribal diddies, brown face galore, train wrecks, lightin’ power boosts, super growth berries, roofied apes, iceberg bustin’, explodin’ rafts, crushed buildin’s galore, submarine action, big ass octopus fights, boulder throwin’, atomic breath blasts, and big bad booby traps! 2/5!


After a Bond villain wannabe’s plans for minin’ a world conquerin’ power source with a robot doppleganger of King Kong flops hard at the North Pole, he resorts to Plan B, and bends the mind of the real deal to finish the job while entertainin’ captive UN agents on a mission to save the big ape ‘fore he and his robo-twin slap fight atop the Tokyo Tower. Campy spy antics with comical rubber monster suit brawlin’, this kaiju flick is just silly fun without bein’ stupid or borin’. While I can accept all the charmingly cheesy miniature effects and mismatched blue screen gags given filmmakin’s limitations at the time this was made, I can’t forgive how Kong looks like a paper mache turd smeared into a shag carpet. Surely more care could’ve been put into sculptin’ his goofy mug, but it does add to the absurd humor of the film like the captured UN agents bitchin’ ’bout bein’ horribly tortured with nightcaps and multiple opportunities to defect. Hover crafts, sea snake beat downs, fatal jaw poppin’, dino street fightin’, geezer deaths, hypno rays, sub rockin’ flirts, explosions galore, fatal freefalls, swimmin’ monkeys, bullets to the chest, sub zero torturin’, and speedy robot productions! 3/5! 


When a prodigal son returns home for his pop’s small town funeral, he stumbles ‘cross a demonic wishin’ urn ‘mong his belongings and has to learn all its confusin’ rules ‘fore the djinn inside kills everyone he knows and claims his soul. While this sucker looks great and features a respectable cast of talent (minus the ex-girlfriend’s misdirectin’ line deliveries), it suffers from a double whammy sour ‘tween the script and its execution. All the significant points of this story feel too passive and lack any meaningful acceleration of danger with a mostly absent devil genie followin’ a buncha half-assed rules for how exactly its wishes work. Endin’s pretty lame too, when the son thinks anythin’ short of wishin’ he never found the urn will save the day. Respectable ‘nough fer a watch, but this flick just makes me wanna go watch Wishmaster. Human roadkill, reconstructive face surgery, hairlip ugliness, dead daddy barn dances, re-animated besties, devil’s lettuce smokin’, library expositions, loony bin explanations, graphic doggie deaths, cursed yard sales, bullet swallowin’ suicides, home invadin’ shoot ’em ups, hangin’ suicides, and turd lookin’ demons! 2/5!


A traumatized profiler is nudged outta retirement to help the FBI catch the serial killin’ pen pal of his last twisted arrest, Dr. Hannibal “the Cannibal” Lecktor, and is not surprisingly compelled to take charge in catchin’ this chomp happy Tooth Fairy ‘fore he slaughters more families. The flick that initially gets the ball rollin’ for the more popular Hannibal Lecktor sequels, this longwinded crime thriller’s like watchin’ an early Dirty Harry movie without the gunplay while milkin’ every ounce of melodrama out of its scenes that could’ve been cut waaay back. If you’ve seen the 2002 remake Red Dragon, you’ve pretty much seen this, ‘cept Anthony Hopkins was given more screen time as Hannibal while Brian Cox’s mouth gappin’ performance is underplayed for two to three fleetin’ moments. Modestly entertainin’ however ya slice it. Landline phone hackin’, kidnappin’, human matchstick rides in a wheelchair, gouged eyes with mirrors, nasty crime photos, ever changin’ cereal aisle of exposition, blind whores, newspaper decodin’, shoot ’em up endin’s, door crashin’, fake chompers, and stabbin’s! 3/5!


A futuristic space babe with an unspecified set o’ skills is humorously tasked by the President of Earth to rescue one of his scientists capable of buildin’ a super weapon from a far out alien planet, but she’ll need all the help she can get from hopeless rebels and a blind angel to save the doc from the tyrannical hold of a mood slime worshippin’ queen. The epitome of a future filtered through the hippie ideals of the 1960s, this live action adaptation of a French funny book by the same name is trippy as all get out! Bustin’ at the seams with naughty creativity, this flick consistently keeps thangs interestin’ with ever changin’ scenarios through charmingly dated campy effects, a smorgasbord of cartoon characters, and sensual situations played fer laughs while a funkadelic soundtrack of erotic lounge music plays underneath it all. You gotta see this to disbelieve it, Scream Freaks! Fatal pleasure machines, invisible keys and locks, killer parakeet torture chambers, flesh chompin’ dolls, evil young’ns, hairy brat hunters, lotta off screen love makin’, blue screen flyin’, ridiculous miniature special effects, terraformed prisoners, zero gravity stripteases, explosions, 4th dimensional death rays, labyrinth prisons, explodin’ sci-fi foot soldiers, transportation tubes, angels and bimbos dog fightin’ with flyin’ war crafts, sexual encounters of the minds, little bit o’ tasteful nudity but nothin’ gratuitous, kidnappin’, royal overthrows, and crucified angels! 4/5!

OUTLAND (1981)

With a surge of overworked space miners gettin’ high and threatenin’ the lives of their coworkers on one of Jupiter’s moons, it’s up to the new marshal in town to cut off their drug supply and sober up their operation ‘gainst their greedy employer’s wishes. A western in space with Sean Connery playin’ the passin’ through do-gooder hellbent on his own convictions of what’s morally right, Outland is a bit of a slow burn that goes overboard on tension buildin’ filler I couldn’t help but speed through but does offer alotta special effects eye candy from outer space sets inspired by Alien to a couple of head explosions that could compete with the brain basket effects from The Beast Within. A solid watch overall, but lukewarm entertainment at best. Hooker hostages, racquet ball confessionals, shotguns to the chest, tell-all blood tests, explodin’ heads, chaotic chases on foot, battle to the death in zero gravity, weightless interrogations, trigger happy yahoos sucked into space, and elevator rides that turn folks inside out! 3/5! 


A young’n from a broken home makes friends with a squatter in the woods who could very well be a dino-shriekin’ witch whose one trick is vanishin’ like Batman, and the more she sees this runt treated like a doormat by friends and family, the more violent she reacts in his defense. This is a sharp lookin’ movie, but the compliments end there. The leads have zero chemistry, every character is an intolerable shit heel with no redeemin’ qualities, and the payoff fer the whole “slapface” theme is executed ’bout as well as a shoe horned afterthought ’bout bullyin’ to give this sorry ‘cuse of a flick more merit. The worst part of this stupid story, however, is the lay the young’n’s older brother brings home from the bar. She just met these dysfunctional yahoos yesterday, yet she’s instantly invested in all their problems with no compellin’ motivation that makes any sense when anyone else would just split at the first sign of trouble. Easiest fix for everythin’ would’ve been to make her the story’s point of view as she tries to figure out the mystery of the young’n’s supposedly imaginary friend when bodies start droppin’. Face slappin’ galore, breakin’ and enterin’, pack of she-bullies, secret romances, pointless house trashin’, police station massacres, jailbreaks, dog killin’, head clobberin’ with rocks, bum murder raps, and witchy bath time! 2/5! 

ZARDOZ (1974)

In the far flung future, Sean Connery is a manipulated mutant who gets wise to his flyin’ head fer a god, Zardoz, and discovers his savage world is really at the mercy of a buncha froufrou immortals livin’ in a utopian bubble he plots to pop while they study his hard-ons. Callin’ this flick weird is an understatement, Scream Freaks! While this sucker presents a unique ‘nough idea fer a memorable sci-fi flick and cleverly casts the original James Bond to keep me invested in his character’s fate, it’s narrative’s a little all over the place and unravels into a tolerance testin’ mess by the final act that feels like three different endin’s. Aside from the everlastin’ overlords happily beggin’ for death like it’s candy and the goofy mastermind behind Zardoz hammin’ it up fer the screen, my favorite part is Connery sayin’, “Potatoes?” Boobs on horseback, gunshots to the face, geezer, time travelin’, magic crystal nonsense, hitch hikin’ in gun vomittin’ stone heads angry at evil penises, forced farmin’, psychic attacks, plant eatin’ defenses, naked folks in baggies, laboratory prisms, forehead crystals, know-it-all rings, horn dog inducin’ sweat, jump cuttin’ family portraits, garden party massacres, geezer parties, and Connery in a dress! 3/5!


After a gal’s fiancé is forced into a gator witch’s cuddlin’ cult of hickies, her only hope of rescuin’ him is teamin’-up with a roamin’ chop-socky hero on his own quest for a meteorite forged sword other comic book characters are after. Indonesian sword and sorcery with ol’ school martial arts, this sucker has to be seen to disbelieve, Scream Freaks! It’s pure craziness from beginnin’ to end packed with all kinda nutty practical effects, outrageous barbarian brawls, and one memorably zany moment after another. My only beef with this flick is how little the titular sword is used when it’s finally brought into play, and how disjointed its McGuffin plot is from the rest of the movie since both involve the hero’s rock flyin’ rival who works for the gator witch in exchange fer bossy lip-action. Decapitations galore, weaponized hats, curtain fightin’, fire breathin’ gator statues, human matchsticks, hand lasers, sword swingin’, underwater harems, extreme weddin’ crashin’, transportin’ gator men warriors, reaper raftin’, cyclops monster suits, booby trapped caves, hand and leg severin’, venomous snake bites, snake spears, super high kicks, sweet gator couches, kissin’ orgies, firey make-out susans, stabbin’s galore, kidnappin’, hypnotic bedroom eyes, and haggish transformations! 5/5! 

THE PREY (1983)

A gang of interchangeable yahoos hike a mountain trail fer some outdoor nookie while bein’ stalked by a disembodied heartbeat that waits ’til the last possible second to reveal itself as a half melted gypsy hellbent on senseless slaughter and non-consensual baby makin’. A lazy exploitation of the original slasher boom, this campin’ trip from hell ain’t all I hoped it would be. There’s gallons of pissin’ time with one note folks aimlessly walkin’ the woods and playin’ banjos, buncha super close-ups of critters drivin’ home the predator metaphors, blips of scenes that have to be accidental edits, unsolicited backstories, and a music budget just big ‘nough to purchase one orchestral suite to jazz up the credits. Bring a book when watchin’ this flick! Hikin’ galore, head twistin’, storytime with does, sunbathin’, flash o’ boobs in a sleepin’ bag, fatal mountain climbin’ freefalls, suffocatin’ with sleepin’ bags, throat rippin’, blood gurglin’ choke-outs, decapitations with an axe, booby trappin’, buzzard feedin’ body piles, head slammin’, and fights that resemble backyard wrasslin’! 2/5!


Inspired by the urban legends of the Candyman, a strugglin’ artist stirs up more trouble than he bargains for with his latest pieces and finds himself becomin’ the Candyman’s next incarnation fer keepin’ the fear alive. A satisfyin’ reboot that builds on the Candyman trilogy rather than ignore it with callbacks to the first flick, this entry is more ’bout mood and mystery than the gore and relegates most that to the background or offscreen. More confusin’ than who’s actually in danger when someone says Candyman five times, I can’t help but ask why the original Candyman (Tony Todd) ain’t in this more. He has one fleetin’ second of a cameo at the very end, but if we’re stickin’ with canon, why not have him overseein’ the artist’s unwillin’ transformation the whole movie ‘stead of his previous incarnation from the ’70s who ain’t really necessary? Regardless, this is a solid watch with respect fer the fans. Art gallery massacres, high school restroom massacres, hand severin’, hooks rammed into stumps, supernatural bee stingin’, crooked cop massacres, unlawful executions, possessed paintin’, freefloatin’ boogeymen, and paper theater shows! 3/5!

DITCH (2022)

Paramedics and cops find themselves in a wreck off a backroad with criminals they’re transportin’ and are systematically attacked by a group of judgmental vigilantes believin’ they all need to pay for past sins at the hands of their victims. This flick looks fantastic but unfortunately falls to the sours of a terrible script performed by very few actors with any screen presence. While I was hopin’ this wasn’t some hackneyed metaphor for a buncha dead yahoos in transition to the great beyond, I much preferred that to the bullshit it ends up bein’. If this is a straight up revenge story, plain and simple, why don’t most these terrible people recognize their victims attackin’ ’em? From brutal brain damagin’ assaults to drunk drivin’ murder charges, there’s no way in hell they’d forget the names and faces of the folks they hurt and would’ve seen in countless times in court. Stupid. Just avoid this one! Deep cuttin’ slingshots to the face, dumb amnesia plot devices, longwinded backstories, explodin’ ambulances, chainsaw vengeance, bullets to the brain, and one satisfyin’ (yet spotlessly clean) head explosion! 2/5! 


After his adopted village is destroyed by a roamin’ band of savages, Dar sets out fer revenge with the power to communicate with critters willin’ to help him and is quickly sidetracked with a quest fer poontang as he attempts to rescue his kissin’ cousin from a divination obsessed tyrant coincidentally responsible fer his royal estrangement. Surprisingly directed by the creator of the Phantasm series, Don Coscarelli, this epic sword and sorcery adventure is a little longwinded with extensive backstories and meanderin’ plots, but offers ‘nough action and zanny characters to forgive it. Unless yer an animal lover, of course. Ya probably won’t shed a tear over darin’ scenes of cryin’ toddlers hurled into holy bonfires, but filmmakers be damned if ya have to see a dramatization of a dog and ferret’s death or a tiger forced to play a panther in black face. At least ya get to see Tanya Roberts topless. Bear attacks, sacrificial ferrets, dead dogs, hawk-o-vision, mutant earwigs, feral henchmen, fatal freefalls, fortress infiltrations, kingly rescues, fugly hags with amazin’ bods, sword stabbin’s, fancy throwin’ weapons, waterhole skinny dippin’ with boobs, arrows to the chest, human and inhuman matchsticks, Jedi nods, folks sucked to goo, bat mutants, flamin’ moats, random suicidal hangin’s, slave girl rescues, magic spy rings, fortune tellin’ cauldrons, thievin’ ferrets, quicksand rescues, ferret babies, unbelievably strong hawks, and throar slittin’! 3/5!


A supposedly prehistoric past full of dinos unravels into an apocalyptic future with android overlords when a wigged warrior named Yor meanders from one adventure to the next with a jealous cave girl and her geezer guardian and discovers his destiny to usher his lost tribe of bomb shelter babies back into a savage world. While the hook is obviously sword and sorcery meets sci-fi, this winnin’ combo doesn’t happen ’til waaay later in the flick, makin’ me think I was suckered by false advertisin’ most the movie. Regardless, this is charmin’ cheese that moves at a fun pace with never-endin’ dangers and special effects while managin’ ‘nough drama ‘mong its characters to keep me invested in their quests. Highlight of the whole thang is the geezer guardian’s spontaneous circus performance of a special effects rescue toward the end ya gotta see to disbelieve! Slaughtered dino puppets, sand mummy cults, killer robots, tube labs, treetop getaways, village massacres, rebel uprisin’s, laser blastin’, maze of totems and mirrors, dangerous sailin’, blood drinkin’, hang glidin’ bats, bow and arrow action, axe fightin’, blue meanie plunderers, u.f.o. attacks, fatal freefalls, impalin’, explodin’ fortresses! 3/5!

SHEENA (1984)

Raised by an African tribe after she accidentally kills her parents in a cave-in, Sheena is the designated protector of a proud village that’s been targeted by a power hungry king after their land’s resources, and it’ll take every obedient jungle critter and a lustin’ journalist to elevate her from exotic tour guide to prophesized hero in the loosest sense. A love letter to the unrivaled beauty of Africa from its dreamlike plains to its lush jungles, this borderline softcore adaptation of the Sheena funny books is a sweet watch for its gorgeous visuals, hypnotic score, and scenes of Tanya Roberts in the buff, but its chase heavy plot fer a story leaves a lot to be desired. With her possessin’ powers like Aquaman over the wildlife, I’m really disappointed at Sheena’s lack of heroics with every other walk of life doin’ the heavy liftin’ and even robbin’ her of her big finale showdown as she’s reduced to a damsel in distress. Animal action with no critter deaths, vine swingin’, jungle warfare, fatal freefalls, water hole bathin’ with boobs, waterfall showers with boobs, pre-teen nudity, small horses playin’ zebras, explodin’ wrecks, spears to the throat, arrows to the chest, talkin’ to animals through headaches, horse stunts, snakes, pack of lions, safety circles, jailbreaks, shamans, elephant attacks, hippos, chargin’ rhinos, magical healin’ dirt, bum murder raps, political assassinations, and death by flamingos! 3/5!


When mankind’s ’bout to go the way of the dodo courtesy of a nasty e.t. invasion, soldiers timewarp to the past and kick-start a world wide draft that forces Chris Pratt to the future long ‘nough to make a difference, so long as he can wrap his noodle ’round fourth dimensional thinkin’ and alternate timelines. A different kinda spin on the apocalyptic movie that’s fresh and interestin’, this longwinded epic packs engagin’ ‘nough characters fightin’ their way through an impressively crafted world with special effects out the ass, but the real takeaway are the mean lookin’ space critters that’re are some of the most impressive lookin’ movie monsters I’ve seen in a long time. While this sucker starts off on a sweet note, however, its second half devolves into ridiculous physics defyin’ CGI battles and me cursin’ at how long it takes Chris to understand he doesn’t have to go back to the future to save it from the past. Rapture lookin’ time travel, arm taggin’, daddy issues, e.t. fist fightin’ in the snow, explosions, oil platform massacres, e.t. poisonin’, nest invadin’, e.t. mama huntin’, spaceship infiltratin’, lazy boot camps, fatal freefalls, extreme pool divin’, human meals galore, e.t. gore galore, cryostasis, sawed e.t.s, flyin’ e.t. battles, and volcano nerds! 4/5!


After naggin’ his pops Zeus fer a hall pass back to Earth, Hercules is zapped from Olympus and ends up in 20th century New York where a leech of a pretzel pusher rides his coattails as he’s swept up in awkward romances and offscreen wrasslin’ with mobster problems. A baby face Arnold Schwarzenegger flexes his actin’ chops fer the first time as this sucker’s star attraction, and after listenin’ to the original Arnie audio track, I have a much deeper appreciation for how far this action icon’s come in Hollywood. Mildly entertainin’ at best with its ’66 Batman fight scenes, corner cuttin’ copouts, and drinkin’ game potential everytime Arnold exclaims, “I’m Hercules,” or, “I have no money,” I really expected more from this cult flick I’ve heard so much ’bout, but hey — at least I get to see Arnold save Central Park from a yahoo in a sad excuse fer a bear costume! Naked men on the wing, harbor throwdowns, power sappin’ drinks, Greek gods and goddesses, all seein’ crystal balls, Donkey Kong style warehouse battles, downtown chariot chases with hot dogs, super throwin’, radio wave goodbyes, cab flippin’, deals with Hades, and a little power liftin’! 2/5!  


When a corrupt governor’s sex slave vanishes in a nuclear pocket of limbo called the Ghostland after a joyride, he forces convict Nicolas Cage to wear a suit laced with explosives and rescue her in three days ‘fore he’s blown to pieces. I watched this noise twice and still can’t quite wrap my head ’round it. I was pumped to see this after watchin’ the trailer, but what I hoped would be a wild ride of Cage ragin’ antics turns out to be nothin’ but a buncha beautiful pictures tellin’ some wonky underwhelmin’ story that meanders its way to a copout of a finale that kinda negates what I thought the bulk of the movie was gonna be. It’s like Escape From New York if all the story and action was ‘tween Snake Plissken and Hauk at the end of the movie after the Duke just lets Snake walk out unopposed. Most memorable thang is Cage’s suit blowin’ one of his balls off with him holdin’ the bloody remains. Dong sketchin’, explodin’ arms, explodin’ nads, clock tower chaos, sword play, mannequin disguises, dead young’ns offscreen, bank robbery massacres, mutant convict ghosts, and nuclear sludge origins! 2/5! 


Big ol’ spider pixels escape from a top secret military lab and attack a nearby skiing resort where they meet their worst nightmare – – – an ex-Olympian skier with a bum knee. More fun than yer average TV movie, this nature gone wrong flick does a great job keepin’ the action movin’ as it bounces its focus ‘mong several different gangs of skiers and soldiers fightin’ fer their lives through a nice mix of locations. While I normally call out poor CGI critters as immediate sours, I get a good laugh whenever these cartoon spiders are ridiculously animated over skiers mindin’ their own business on the slopes. Severed legs, cocooned victims, mutilated deer, impalin’ with deer antlers, ski resort massacres, half-pipe traps, explosions, lab massacres, double dare skiin’, last stand resorts, snowmobilin’, bus traps, and leg breakin’! 4/5! 


Alaskan miners unearth a giant cartoon reptile, and after it tears through their whole crew, it’s dead set on eatin’ two competin’ ice road truckers who show up at the wrong time to make a delivery. A run of the mill TV flick fer the Syfy channel with folks fightin’ a CG critter, this one’s better than most, and alotta that’s thanks to castin’ such a solid ensemble of talent from shows like Supernatural, Teen Wolf, and Blood Ties. With well paced action, characters exhibitin’ real personalities, and respectable ‘nough gore, I’d say this creature feature’s worth checkin’ out to pass a lazy afternoon. Tails through the chest, lotta trucker lingo, creeper vibes, monster-o-vision, construction site massacres, cabin massacres, flamethrowin’ gas pumps, freezin’ hikes, explodin’ trucks, and eye stabbin’s! 3/5!  


Things heat up as a pyrokinetic clown barges back into his equally gifted brother’s humdrum life and reignites a literal firefight ‘tween ’em with plans to go public with their powers fer fame and fortune while attemptin’ to steal his wife. A quirky little sci-fi comedy, this flick starts off like a character driven stage play, but if ya hang with this slow burn long ‘nough, it erupts into one helluva special effects spectacle I still can’t believe exists in an artsy oddball feature like this. The only thang better than Dennis Quaid’s unforgettable performance as Biff the Clown is his carny sidekick played by a filthified Jim Varney, takin’ one of his rare breaks from playin’ Ernest P. Worrell. Only sour worth mentionin’ is the occasional singin’ firemen. They’re good but sang one too many diddies fer my tolerance. Headache fire conjurin’, cigarette lightin’ tricks, house arrests, nymphomania without boobs, fly zappin’, AC meltin’, roamin’ fairs, fireballs, flammin’ crotch rockets, explodin’ amusement rides, mini-golf chaos, gimmicky costumes, tragic backstories, human matchsticks, crispy corpses, stressful mowin’, rooftop affairs, and one of the looongest kisses evert committed to celluloid! 4/5! 


Two detectives investigate a woman’s fatal freefall from a CGI high-rise and find her taped confession revealin’ she was killed by a dead buddy of hers turned vengeful straw man after she helped ditch his corpse in a cursed cornfield for bein’ a pesty peepin’ tom. Ambitious Z grade filmmakin’ to say the least, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a shot on video indie with so much CGI ‘fore from a buncha sweepin’ aerial shots and scenery fabrication to the one comic-bookish moment of the pumpkin headed killer ridin’ a bike like a bat outta hell. I can forgive this earnestly made flick fer its draggin’ story, Party City-bought slasher costume, and packin’ all the wonderfully homemade gore in the last few minutes, but tarnations — why is the background noise so LOUD and persistent in this sucker?! The non-stop chirps of birds and crickets drown everythin’ out fer most the runtime! Drinkin’ game every time someone says “cornfield”, gory head smashin’, stabbin’, Scooby-Doo monster chasin’, explosions, fatal green screen freefalls, barely qualifyin’ monstrous transformations, cursed land jibber jabber, and car battery chuckin’! 2/5!


A bait and switch rebrandin’ of the Bloody Mary legend with a pinch of The Exorcist to mix things up, a gang of ambiguously aged teens dare each other to summon a killer spook known as the Queen of Spades through a mirror for kicks, but regret that decision as they start droppin’ dead with only one of their mamas and an exorcist to save ’em from the infamous booga boo. This sucker has ’bout as much excitement as watchin’ wet concrete dry with a live fly on top. It’s long, borin’, uneventful, and most everyone in the cast acts like they downed a whole bottle of Prozac ‘fore each take. The exorcism at the end is a surprisin’ twist, but it ain’t worth watchin’ the whole movie fer. Festering wounds that’re supposed to be supernatural scratches, heart attacks, drowinin’s, possessin’, fatal freefalls, and some of the most lackadaisical actin’ I’ve ever seen committed to celluloid! 2/5!


Paranormal Activity goes Amish and bores me to tears as a gal documents her first meetin’ with a simple cousin who introduces her to the family farm she never knew she came from and its sketchy ties to a demon that could explain her mama’s absence. While the Paranormal flicks are usually engagin’ ‘nough to be mildly entertainin’, this latest entry drops the ball with lackluster characters, consistently flat tension, and muddled motives with the girl makin’ it her mission to solve the mystery of the secluded church when it doesn’t seem to have anythin’ to do with her mom’s questionable past. Biggest shock in the movie is findin’ out her Amish cousins are hidin’ Wi-Fi in their closet.  No joke! Sacrificial hidey holes, breakin’ and enterin’, Amish posers, possessin’, freezin’ young’ns, table slappin’ sing-alongs, farmland massacres, and horse violence! 2/5!


While sellin’ knife sets door-to-door, a young gang of newbie salesmen bug the wrong house and find themselves trapped with a deluded ex-cop who’ll kill anybody he thinks is comin’ ‘tween him and his shut-in of a basket case daughter. A fun flick infused with ‘nough seriousness fer me to not wanna see its likeably goofy characters get hurt, the filmmakers do a fantastic job deliverin’ a sharp lookin’ production full of wit and charm with a formidable cast of youths holdin’ their own ‘gainst one of Kane Hodder’s most memorable performances as the overprotective psycho. Only sours here are the repetitive tours through Kane’s house which makes the scenery feel old real quick, and the bafflin’ twist in the third act when the salesgirl randomly has an identity crises that results in a pretty ridiculous endin’. Fatal freefalls, throat slittin’, power tooled genitals, head stabbin’, home invasions, identity crises, chimney torture chambers, sneakin’ ’round galore, creepy dad love, and ‘lotta knife fightin’! 3/5! 


An Advent calendar themed anthology, this holiday horror is a smorgasbord of death and destruction told over 24 random Christmas shorts from all ’round the globe with no narrative ties. Some are nicely contained tales of festive fear. Most are underdeveloped ideas without ‘nough context to be entertainin’.  Others feel like Christmas was an afterthought the filmmakers shoehorned in to meet the theme of the movie. Surprisingly, the best and worst shorts fer me are both sci-fi. I enjoy “Cracker” for its grippin’ tension, engagin’ reveals, and quick and easy explanation fer why folks’ heads are blowin’ up at the dinner table, and hate “Aurora” fer bein’ the least Christmas of the bunch with some convoluted plot involvin’ a girl suffocatin’ in the future from spores or somethin’. Worth a see, but no chance of becomin’ a holiday tradition. Jewel heistin’ Santas, killer Santa squatters, two-fisted Santas, reindeer rescues, explodin’ heads, suffocatin’, dead girl dolls, ear bitin’, cursed reports, fatal freefalls, stabbin’s galore, retail rage, dick stabbin’s, kidnappin’s, mutant deer POVs, belly beast swappin’, and hunchbacks burned at the stake! 3/5! 


After popular horror host Midnight falls in bed with her doof of a fan boy stalker, she’s more than distracted with some of the most absurd relationship problems I’ve ever seen committed to celluloid when the station manager threatens to pull the plug on her show ‘less she signs over the copyright to her character. A fictional horror host no doubt inspired by Vampira and Elvira, this lost flick is a pretty ridiculous watch. First off, the whole horror host theme is downplayed with little to no talk ’bout horror movies, much ‘less the use of any public domain clips from the usual go-to titles like Night of the Living Dead. Second, there’s nothin’ likeable or charmin’ ’bout Midnight. Instead of a sincere oddball with vulnerabilities, she’s a melodramatic whackadoo I can’t bring myself to root fer after all her constant crazy talk or bafflin’ tolerance fer her boy toy openly cheatin’ on her. Finally, the story feels like a padded mess some bored editor slapped together without a script, amazingly turnin’ this loosely labeled “dramedy” into a surprise murder mystery by the final act. Psych-out suicides, poisoned drinks, caged snakes, quickly decomposin’ bodies, underwater stranglin’, hangin’s, uncomfortably long spit swappin’ ‘tween the sheets, pool parties, bikinis galore, and one of the most poorly staged motorcycle wrecks EVER! 2/5!


It’s Black Friday at the world’s saddest lookin’ big box toy store, and its disgruntled employees gotta come together to fight their way through a violent mob of gut hockin’ shoppers infected with some kinda e.t. germ turnin’ ’em all into wannabe creatures from The Thing. Though this decently made flick boasts a likeable cast of fan favorite actors battlin’ impressive special effects, it’s sadly underwhelmin’ thanks to its half-baked script. There needs to be a stronger centric hero or relationship to latch onto, the managers’ personalities should be bigger, more time should be spent on the misery of workin’ Black Fridays, and the employees need motives I can believe for why they throw down with the big bad from outer space at the end, ’cause yer regular Joe Schmoe ain’t stickin’ ’round fer somethin’ meant fer the National Guard to handle. Shopper slayin’, infectious meteorites, big ass monster suit actin’, mish mash monster makin’, germophobes, slingshot forklifts, explosions, gut spillin’ galore, and monstrous transformations! 3/5! 


Ditchin’ the Ghostbusters decades ago, Egon passes away on a dirt farm and leaves his inheritance to his grand young’ns he haunts into continin’ his fight ‘gainst Gozer’s apocalyptic return as junior Ghostbusters. A fantastic sequel in spirit that keeps within the canon of the first two Ghostbuster flicks, this amazin’ lookin’ film boasts heartfelt actin’, stellar effects, one of the best scores since Back to the Future, and the triumphant return of the original paranormal eliminators I know and love for one brief moment. My only gripes with this sucker is I wish the filmmakers had come up with a whole new big bad to threaten the world ‘stead of recyclin’ Gozer and all his/her predictable plot points. I also didn’t like how quickly the story rushes to the final fight with Gozer as soon as the young’ns encounter their first free floatin’ booger, and the inclusion of Ivo Shandor was cool but pretty pointless overall. Spook chasin’, RC car ghost traps, spirit photography, possessions, spectral comets, ghost traps galore, CGI Egon, ghost chess, hidey hole puzzles, proton stream crossin’, slammer sequences, metal munchin’ boogers, terror dogs, mini-Marshmallow Men antics, Real Ghostbuster toy nods, soul pits, and ancient ruins! 4/5!


A cheatin’ dad hires the wrong yokels to kill his wife durin’ a family getaway to the bayou, and a simple murder scheme spirals into a silly mess of twists that decides to be supernatural at the last second with no real punchline. More lackluster thriller than paranormal killer, this decently made flick ain’t terrible by any means, but its escalation of danger involvin’ the mysterious guns-fer-hire from the swamp is terribly ineffective with ’em ridin’ the fence as common criminals or threats from beyond to the end credits. Hammered noggins, nosebleeds galore, vehicular bon fires, mystical resurrections, human matchsticks, disembowelin’, wolf attacks, and disappearin’ houses! 2/5! 


When a Kentucky frat house desperately needs some deniro to keep their college from kickin’ ’em off campus, a mysterious stranger offers his ol’ haunted attraction of a house fer a Halloween fundraiser and sabotages their lucrative night with real blood curdlin’ scenes of executions. While it takes a while fer the Halloween antics to ramp up, this charmin’ indie flick manages to keep me entertained as a time capsule of boonies pop culture at the dawn of the ’90s. When it does kick into full horror, however, it’s a pretty impressive display of grisly effects ‘fore a cluelessly cheerin’ audience that wraps up with some amazin’ heroics with a flamethrower! Batter batter decapitations, bimbo carvin’, skinny dippin’ with boobs, impalin’, body hackin’, drop dead grannies, explodin’ vans, full blown concerts, topless sunbathin’, boobs on a boat, hang ’em executions, electric chair torture, head twistin’, and machetes through the neck! 3/5! 

MADRES (2021)

A Mexican-American couple move into a new home in the 1970s, and a wronged ghost just barely drops the prego wife ‘nough clues to expose a race conspiracy to sterilize immigrant mamas ‘gainst their wills. A snooze fest of quiet moments and music box lullabies fer a soundtrack, this true crime inspired drama barely registers as a supernatural horror with the ghost bein’ nothin’ more than a periodic presence on the very fringe of the story the filmmakers could’ve removed with no consequence to the plot. This is really a flick ’bout a social injustice that needed that dependable horror label to ensure its message ’bout unlawful tube tyin’ reached folks. Nothin’ wrong with that, but I’d still like the ghost to have more of a direct role in things, and I think the overall message gets buried in too much misdirection by the end with everyone blamin’ their problems on poisonous pesticides most the movie. Fallin’ pregos, purposely botched births, shed traps, shamans, house wife sleuthin’, and magical trinkets! 2/5!


After her drug addicted mama becomes an explodin’ vampire, a teeny bopper with new boobs makes it her mission to kill the head bloodsucker responsible and prevent his army of fang bangers from takin’ over New Orleans. A very forgettable flick, this neither adds anythin’ new or wild to the vampire genre, and its villains leave a lot to be desired as far as character and their interaction with the slayer wannabe. And speakin’ of the heroine played by Asjha Cooper, she’s undeniably a good actor but doesn’t possess ‘nough star power to carry a movie as the lead. It especially doesn’t help she’s a woman in her late twenties playin’ a teen so young she brags about her boobs finally growin’ in which I think happens fer gals by age 13? Asjha can pass fer a high schooler, sure, but is the movie suggestin’ she’s younger than 15? Waaay too distractin’! Explodin’ fang bangers, bum feedin’, undercover hookin’, stakin’, book club experts on vampires, fang on fang violence, garlic cloud defenses, and bloodsuckin’ resurrections! 3/5!

OLD (2021)

Guests at an exotic island hotel are escorted to a secluded beach and find themselves trapped as they experience rapid agin’ that aggravates their different medical conditions. Kinda like a feature length Twilight Zone episode, director M. Night Shyamalan delivers a solid tension buildin’ flick full of intrigue and pendin’ dread but not so much on a twist endin’ folks come to expect from him. The only sour I don’t like is its shallow character development ‘mong its ensemble of victims with no particular yahoo servin’ as the story’s point of view with any meaningful arc. Human pretzels, fast healin’, emergency surgeries as easy as games of Operation, rapid growth spurts, speedy pregnancies, seizures, bloated bodies, decomposin’, rust poisonin’, fatal freefalls, blackouts, stabbin’s galore, and top secrets operations! 4/5!


A gang of student filmmakers spend Halloween in Japan’s infamous Suicide Forest and document a classmate’s search fer answers ’bout her dead birth mama while bein’ chased by Grudge ghost wannabes. A forgettable snooze of a Syfy original, the plot is interestin’ ‘nough, but the cast is miserably flat and fails to pull me into these yahoo’s haunted romp through the sticks. It’s beyond me why this is even set on Halloween given it has zero holiday vibes with it only bein’ mentioned in passin’. A fine flick fer background noise or a sleep-aid but nothin’ else. Drawn and quarterin’ by hair extensions, supernatural suckin’, Cassandra ghosts, drivin’ dead, mama drama, stabbin’s, robbin’ the dead! 3/5! 


Before the final girl of the last flick can expose the evil organization behind underground rat races set in life or death escape rooms, she’s unbelievably wrangled into a new series of fatal head scratchers with other previous winners. An okay movie overall, this sequel’s ensemble of players doesn’t have the most engagin’ chemistry, and the puzzles ‘come so convoluted, I’ve no choice but to shut my noodle off and enjoy all the expensive eye candy this flick could slap on the screen. The real sour worth knockin’ this sucker for, however, is its bum rush of an endin’ that’s just a little too confusin’ as the filmmakers attempt to reveal and explain the true mastermind behind all these wacko traps. Flesh meltin’ rain, trap cars, quicksand, electrified subway cars, games of Hangman, deadly lasers, cave-ins, smarty pants dungeons, muggin’s, electrocutions, sauna traps, and daddy daughter drama! 3/5!


An immediate follow-up to Michael Myers’ newest mulligan timeline introduced in 2018’s Halloween, the infamous bogeyman remains at large and continues ruinin’ Halloween for everyone in Haddonfield with an indifferent murder spree that gains the attention of a town wide lynch mob led by survivors of Michael’s first holiday massacre in 1978. Easily one of my least favorite sequels ‘mong the Halloween movies, Halloween Kills is just a string of ridiculous moments that feels like some teenager’s attempt at fan fiction that’s neither fun or rewatchable. The dialogue’s wildly over the top and repetitive (“Evil dies tonight!), there’s way too many folks spillin’ a buncha needless exposition, most the characters returnin’ from the ’78 flick are shoehorned in as opposed to bein’ organically introduced with an actual role to play, there’s the stupidest case of mistaken identity that drags out waaay too long in the middle, and the biggest dick slap to the mug is the anti-claimatic endin’ the movie spends its whole runnin’ time buildin’ up to. Besides an impressive stand-in for Loomis in flashbacks and the funny scenes of the couple livin’ in the Myers house, the only positive thing I can say ‘about this farce is it absolutely delivers what the title promises, and that’s a non-stop gore-fest of brutal deaths that’s perfect for background horror at Halloween parties. Stabbin’ galore, vigilante justice, street pizzas, fatal freefall suicides, head smashin’ galore, home invadin’, carjackin’, house infernos, firefighter massacres, axes to the face, saws to the fact, lotta broken windows, impaled faces, keep away, turkey baster injections of courage, gushin’ neck wounds, gunshots to the chest, and panicked mobs! 3/5!


A loose remake of the 1982 classic, a gang of girlfriends sneak away to an infamous cabin to lure out a psycho killer with a mean drill and make him pay for attackin’ one of their mamas forever ago so she can lay her tragic past to rest. The Slumber Party Massacre series and its loose Cheerleader Massacre sequels ain’t Oscar worthy flicks by any means, but this sucker leaves a lot to be desired. Shakin’ things up with a self-aware cast followin’ Scream rules fer defeatin’ slashers, the biggest sour for me is how flat and underdeveloped the characters are, despite some of ’em possessin’ an undeniable screen presence like the little sister. There’s an unexpected twist here and there that’s sweet, but this is ultimately a soulless remake that fails to be as fun or funny as its source material. Nods to Slumber Party Massacre 2‘s guitar, slashers in the shower, vengeful mamas, chest and hand drillin’, eye gougin’, wacky tobacky brownies, toy penis trinkets, drugged cookies, vomitin’, fake boobs, psych-out revenge schemes, stabbin’ galore, body hackin’, homoerotic bondin’, manly butts in the shower, and makeshift weed wacked faces! 2/5!


Small town high schoolers party it up as the news reports a killer who’s out to publically expose their dirty secrets while wearin’ 3D printed masks of their mugs. A beautifully shot movie with solid actin’, this whodunnit slasher’s biggest flaw is well . . . its slasher! Relyin’ too much on ’em just being a psycho followin’ psychio logic, the victims are as random as names outta hat, and I don’t think any of their secrets are extreme ‘nough to justify the gore-tastic ends they meet, even by horror movie standards. Like who gives a flyin’ fuck that one unlucky stiff’s secret is bein’ addicted to pain killers? For a flick that openly references I Know What You Did Last Summer, I’d think the filmmakers would have done a better job buildin’ a murder mystery ’round teens with a secret. Achilles heel severin’, home invadin’, taser guns, swords through the noggin’, head impalin’, belly slicin’, stabbin’ galore, parked make-out sessions, secret partyin’, Nazi memorabilia converted to hookas, bonfire victims, white power propagandas, sleep walkin’ grannies, corn maze chaos, and lotta print-out plasterin’! 2/3!

V/H/S/94 (2021)

A ridiculous S.W.A.T. team who loves shoutin’ “Warrant!” busts in on some kinda couch potato cult and is slowly driven mad as they peek at a buncha idiot boxes playin’ extreme videos that include rat man cults, zombie wakes, killer cyborgs, and redneck militias armed with vampires. An okay V/H/S sequel at best, most these stories suffer from poor set-ups or shoddy endin’s that keep ’em from bein’ winners, but “The Subject” is a cybernetic nightmare worth checkin’ out, and “The Terror” unexpectedly explores a side of vampires I’d never seen before with weaponized blood bombs that’s pretty damn cool. The worst of the bunch that sent me into a snooze was “The Empty Wake” thanks to its lack of plot and exposition, and the wraparound story with the S.W.A.T. team was just ’bout as hard to follow. Kidnappin’, eye gougin’, head smashin’, folks ripped in half, explodin’ vampire blood, shotguns to the face galore, jailbreaks, bloodsuckin’, face meltin’ upchuck, under dweller cults, S.W.A.T. team massacres, brain squishin’, electrocutions, intestine spillin’, explodin’ rabbits, and monstrous suicides! 2/5! 


While their new step dad hikes the great yander for roadside assistance, a brother and sister ditch their busted ride to celebrate Halloween with the locals for a couple of days and end up in the middle of an underground taxidermy competition ran by murderous artists. Kinda House of Wax meets a poor man’s Hostel with minimum holiday spirit, this ain’t a bad idea for a horror flick, but its loosey goosey storytellin’ makes for a meanderin’ plot with vague relations ‘mong characters and thinly drawn out tension. This could be so much better if it had a more heartless editor workin’ from a tighter script. Kidnappin’, throat slittin’, human taxidermy art, people made into scarecrows for some reason, weirdo children, back stabbin’s, macabre art shows, shit hole dungeons, leg peelin’, powerhouse nimwits, knives to the face, disfigured eyes, human dissectin’, squattin’, silo partyin’, haunted corn mazes, haunted hay rides, evil step parents, big boob bikini slow-mo, and waterhole dippin’! 2/5!

SEANCE (2021)

After boardin’ school girls playfully evoke ghosts from their dorm’s grisly past, they start dyin’ off one by one and suspect someone in their group’s usin’ the urban legend as a cover to go all slash happy. A decent flick from the studio behind my favorite remakes like House on Haunted Hill (1999) and 13 Ghosts (2001), this is a well made movie with an interestin’ ‘nough lookin’ gang of gals, but its too cool fer school last girl lacks any character buildin’ substance for me to latch onto, and it feels like the filmmakers couldn’t settle on a definitive tone with this movie ridin’ a fine line ‘tween bein’ a supernatural thriller or revenge slasher. Even worse, the kills are pretty damn basic, save the last couple of physics defyin’ fatalities that only make sense if folks were made of mashed potatoes! Best part is findin’ out this is all ’bout someone tryin’ to get away with plagiarism. Cat fights, slappin’, punchin’, stabbin’ galore, throat slittin’ with fluorescents, decapitations with bookshelves, leg breakin’, seances, automatic writin’, lesbo lip lockin’, wacky tobacky, fatal freefalls, slashers in the shower, light fixtures to the face, kidnappin’, and head conkin’! 2/5!


While a graduating class of high school horn dogs cap off their senior year with a weekend long party at their local waterpark motel, someone with an axe to grind booby traps one of the slides for a buncha wet ‘n wild deaths! A valiant effort at bein’ a memorable horror flick, this whodunnit summer slasher has all the ingredients for makin’ somethin’ special, but ultimately ends up a poorly set-up punchline that’s more recycled teen comedy antics from the ’80s than horror. This could have been a real winner if the filmmakers escalated the danger with more than one chop suey waterslide from beginnin’ to end and wrote a killer whose motives made any sense. Stabbin’s, fatal freefall, slice ‘n dice massacre slides, head smashin’ with bottles, nookie in the shower, bikini car washes, embarassin’ dance offs, sleazy affairs, graphic lobster dinin’, and concert crashin’ beat downs! 2/5! 

BAD CANDY (2021)

A mess of a Halloween decked anthology, this flick’s either ’bout a radio DJ spittin’ a buncha erratic stories over the airwaves by request or a little mutant’s killer clown drawin’ come to life who tears through a buncha loosely connected shorts full of horn dogs and killers. With reasonable actin’, decent ‘nough ideas, and impressive cinematography, the flaw that completely ruins this holiday horror is its editin’. The story’s framework is never clearly defined, set-ups are an endangered practice leavin’ stories vacant of any explanation or substance worth carin’ ’bout, everything’s jump cutty at best, and the uneventful twist with the DJs at the end don’t make a lick of sense. Best part of the movie where things finally start comin’ together for one fleetin’ moment is when some vigilantes round up a buncha panicked yahoos for their blood thirsty buddy to hunt. Acid trippin’ necrophilia, high flyin’ monsters, victims who explode like crash dummies when struck, splat fairies, imaginary critters, young’ns turned into collectables, razor blade stuffed candy, jack-o-lantern bashin’, smooshy sounds galore, gas station hookers, doodles come to life, tree house clubs, human roadkill with utter indifference, decapitations, life suckin’ ghosts, house fires, time travelin’ echoes, impalement, head crushin’ and slicin’, home invasions, and attempted rapes! 2/5! 


An abused prego loses her family overnight and starts havin’ lucid episodes of a twisted slasher workin’ his way through a hit list of doctors she wants to help the police stop. Best described as Basket Case meets The Dark Half, this flick’s feature killer comes off more like a super villain than the next great boogey man, and it doesn’t help his leadin’ lady is a lame duck who spends more time reactin’ to situations than expressin’ herself as a character with any substance worth me givin’ a damn ’bout. A sandbox kinda experiment in filmmakin’ with heavy-horror-hitter James Wan spinnin’ horror yarn with the visual energy of a comic book movie, the story’s an entertainin’ mess of set-ups and character developments with a pretty predictable endin’, but it still manages to be an attention grabbin’ watch by the final act. Weaponized awards, wife beatin’, head trauma, separation anxiety, vague electrical powers that are never really explained, radio wave yappin’, semi-possessin’, stabbin’s galore, Siamese surgeries, chasin’ through Seattle’s underground, jail cell massacres, ladies on the can, mind manipulatin’, police station massacres, and bed flippin’! 3/5! 


A romantic pair of Airbnb critics stupidly ignore every red flag their latest host at a remote cabin is a lyin’ psycho and try exploitin’ her craziness fer more subs to their channel with disastrous results. While this flick boasts decent actors and pretty locations, it completely lacks conviction on all fronts with so-so characters losin’ their shit over a pretty escapable killer who’s never as hopelessly threatenin’ as the filmmakers want her to be. The other thang that really sticks in my craw as trivial as it is, how in the world does the she-critic not know her man’s gonna propose to her when he’s constantly uploadin’ his plans to propose to her on their channel? The internet can’t keep a secret! Clogged toilets, hidey holes, Big Brother stalkin’, secret passageways, stabbin’ galore, and a terrific drop-in by scream queen Barbara Crampton for one violent death! 3/5!


A doll lovin’ web show host with alotta pent up rage is sent a Baby Oopsie from the Demonic Toys series in the mail, and once she restores the demon in disguise, she’s a little too eager to sic the homicidal hunk of plastic on her everyday bullies. A loose spin-off that could very well be featurin’ one of the Baby Oopsie clones mass produced in Puppet Master vs Demonic Toys given its gender swap, this first flick from the Full Moon Manor features crisp camerawork, effective pops of Tarantino gore, and a non-stereotypical cast that keep me on my tippy toes for what to expect from any of ’em. Only sours worth mentionin’ is the music being more distracting than complimentary in the first half of the movie, and I feel like the doll lover’s friendship with her tenant was underutilized for some meaningful character development. Mini chainsaw violence, devil doll worshippin’, pee-pot action, mulligan daydreamin’, stranglin’, projectile face-meltin’ vomit, rub-a-dub deaths with a microwave oven, side boobs, severed noses, body hackin’, desk jockey terminations, lotta lotta Full Moon Easter eggs, and more baby doll enthusiasts than anyone would ever suspect! 3/5! 

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