The Toxic Avenger, Starring Peter Dinklage

He was born in a notoriously violent and grotesque Troma movie. Less than seven years later, he was starring in a children’s cartoon. It didn’t last long, because what’s haye point of watching Toxie if he can’t stuff a bullying bad guy’s hands into a deep fryer? In the original films, his name varied from Melvin Ferd to Melvin Junko, so giving him a fresh name change to Winston Gooze is really no big deal. Regardless, he will experience plenty of body horror while in engaging in gruesome acts of payback throughout director-screenwriter Macon Blair’s rebooted The Toxic Avenger, which opens tomorrow in theaters.

Poor Gooze is still a put-upon janitor (wielding a trusty mop), who is done wrong by life in general and his boss, mobbed-up nutritional supplement tycoon Bob Garbinger in particular. First, Garbinger’s company rejects his insurance claim for life-saving treatment. Then his thugs beat Gooze and leave him for dead in a vat of toxic goo. Frankly, that last part was an honest misunderstanding. They were supposed to kill J.J. Doherty, a whistle-blower collecting evidence of Garbinger’s dangerously foul environmental practices. Gooze just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Although Gooze looks like a giant oozing disfigured freak, he now has superhuman strength and healings powers, which are obviously handy traits for a vigilante. Yet, Gooze fears his new twisted form will further traumatize his stepson Wade, who is still reeling from his mother’s death (prior to the start of the picture).

Troma still co-produced Blair’s reboot and studio chief Lloyd Kaufman even makes a Stan Lee-style cameo, but civilians who are not fanatically devoted to the indie studio will be happy to have more cooks in the kitchen. As a result, the new film is not quite as cartoonishly vicious as Troma’s vintage 1980’s releases, including the original 1984 film. Admittedly, “watered-down” is not a term many critics will apply to Macon’s reboot, but it does not quite have the same ferocity, which is a good thing.

In fact, there are flashes of pleasantly dry wit, delivered with appropriate cynical world-weariness by Peter Dinklage. He has a great voice for voice-overs. Frankly, based on his intro, he would probably make a terrific Batman for the DC Animated Universe. He also helps humanize Gooze, even when Luisa Guerrero takes over as the body of the Toxic Avenger.

Witchboard, Chuck Russell’s Reboot

It used to be a garden variety Ouija board that picked up a bad passenger, but for the reboot, it has been upgraded to a very rare and very evil antique. That will not be a trade-up for those who handle it. At least the food is better this time around, because the setting moved from California to New Orleans. However, a young woman still falls under the sway of a creepy forerunner to the magic 8-ball in Chuck Russell’s Witchboard, which opens today in theaters.

Emily, her fiancé Christian, and their friends were out foraging for mushrooms when she stumbled across the evil board. They weren’t for recreational purposes. They are for the opening of Christian’s hipster restaurant. Apparently, everyone was so busy planning for the premiere, they missed the news of the museum heist that made off with a notorious witchcraft relic.

The board still basically works the same way. It just has more bells and whistles. Ominously, Emily grows increasingly obsessed with the board’s divining powers, after it leads her to her misplaced engagement ring. Indeed, the recovering Emily has an addictive personality that makes her acutely susceptible to the board’s malevolent influence.

Nobody really thinks about why the board was there in the first place. Anne Ricey-looking Alexander Babtiste, a wealthy expert in the dark arts, commissioned the theft, but was double-crossed by the hoodlum now decomposing in the forest. Ill-advisedly, Christian’s torch-carrying but well-meaning ex, Brooke, refers Christian to Babtiste for occult guidance. Clearly, he does not have Emily’s best interests at heart.

Russell and co-screenwriter Greg McKay’s screenplay wildly departs from the 1986 original, but Babtiste’s shadowy conspiracy to resurrect a notorious 17^th Century witch is the best thing going for the film, admittedly in a wacky and outlandish kind of way. There are times when the film ventures quite deeply into the tall weeds of left field (to compound metaphors).

Japan Cuts ’25: Serpent’s Path

With this film, Kiyoshi Kurosawa joined the company of Michael Haneke (Funny Games), Takashi Shimizu (The Grudge), George Sluizer (The Vanishing), and Ole Bornedal (Nightwatch). All have helmed remakes of their films in different languages. Admittedly, Japanese can still be heard in Kiyoshi’s new take on his 1998 dark thriller, but French is the primary language—logically so, since it is set in and around Paris. Weirdly, one of the major themes was lost in translation, but human nature remains just as dark and brutish as ever in Kurosawa’s Serpent’s Path (2024), which has its East coast premiere tomorrow, as part of the 2025 Japan Cuts.

Schlubby, grieving Albert Bacheret and straight-arrow psychiatrist Dr. Sayoko Mijima are a mismatched odd couple, but they are about to pull off the daring daylight abduction of Laval, a prominent attorney. He should have been more discerning in his choice of clients.

Viewers deduce relatively quickly that Laval represented “The Circle,” an organ-trafficking cult that murdered Bacheret’s young daughter. Tormented by grief and guilt, Bacheret now only lives for revenge. However, as the trail leads the duo to high-ranking members of the Circle, Bacheret grows wary and apprehensive. He understands just how dangerous they are, because he once worked for them. Right, that’s awkward.

Aurelien Ferenczi’s adapted screenplay remains largely faithful to Hiroshi Takahashi’s original, but it transforms the distraught father’s accomplice from a math teacher into a doctor. As a result, the mathematical motifs all go out the window.

While that character change might trouble admirers of the 1998 film, Ko Shibasaki’s powerhouse portrayal of Mijima is definitely the remake’s greatest asset. She is quiet, but her presence is electric. Frankly, Damien Bonnard is completely outclassed as the basket case, Bacheret.

Bad Genius, an Unnecessary Remake

In the movies, the have’s are always stupid and lazy, whereas the have-not’s are always smart and virtuous. In real life, there are plenty of intelligent wealthy people and creepy working-class morons, but they make poor fodder for class warfare propaganda.  You will not find any such inconvenient characters in this unnecessary remake of a vastly superior Thai film. Two scholarship kids still have one advantage—a knack for taking standardized tests—that they do their best to fraudulently monetize in Bad Genius, directed by J.C. Lee, which is now in theaters and on digital.

Lynn Kang has a real shot at getting into either MIT or Julliard, but she and her father Meng disagree regarding which she should apply to. Regardless, her upper-crust classmate Grace Simon quickly realizes Kang’s brain could help her too. Despite some reservations, Kang develops a method of signaling test answers to Simon’s clique, for a fee, of course. She makes good money until the dumb old adults notice suspicious patterns.

Unfortunately, Kang loses her scholarship, but not her ambition. Needing money for Julliard auditions, Kang agrees to a grand scheme in which she takes the SAT in a crummy, poorly maintained Philly high school, where she will secretly text her memorized answers back to her exploitive “friends” in suburban Seattle—but she can’t do it alone. Of course, the only classmate smart enough to help her is the painfully sensitive Bank Adedamola, the son of African immigrants (so much for all those bogus complaints about standardized tests being culturally biased).

The emphasis on Adedamola’s immigrant identity is an example of how Lee’s adaptation of Nattawut Poonpiriya’s like-titled Bad Genius, a briskly-paced teen caper, evolved into such a downbeat, politicized buzzkill. The original Thai film has a smart and entertainingly conspiratorial vibe. In contrast, Lee and co-screenwriter Julius Onah constantly lecture viewers on inequality, which is a lot less fun.

Speak No Evil, Remade by Blumhouse

Remember, your new vacations friends probably are not that funny. Most likely, it is really just the wine. Most people realize it would be a bad idea to reunite later, especially at their isolated country home, but the Daltons do it anyway in James Watkins’ Speak No Evil, a Blumhouse-produced remake of Christian Tafdrup’s Danish film of the same name, which releases tomorrow nationwide.

Ben Dalton brought his wife Louise and daughter Agnes to London for a job opportunity that evaporated at the last minute. They are still there, but it is awkward, for additional reasons that will be revealed during their stressful upcoming country getaway. To lift their spirits, they have a miserable time vacationing in Tuscany, until they start hanging with the super-fun Paddy and Ciara, who rescue them from the other boring tourists. However, their mute son Ant is not such a good time. Maybe they should pay more attention to him.

When things get bad again back home, they decide to take up Paddy’s offer to visit their farmhouse. However, as soon as they arrive, they regret it, because their hosts are much weirder than they remember. The Daltons also realize poor Ant endures constant emotional (and perhaps physical) abuse. Yet, they stay, to avoid offending Paddy and Ciara. Ant tries to warn them, but only Agnes picks up on his desperate attempts to communicate.

Watkins’ adaptation of Tafdrup’s original film is taking flak for not being as hopelessly give-you-nothing-nihilistic as its predecessor, but that’s not such a bad thing. Frankly, we already have plenty of horror films in which cruelty is rewarded. Arguably, it starts out as a remake of Speak No Evil but turns into a much better remake of Straw Dogs than Rod Lurie managed to cobble together. It even takes place back in rural England again.

There is a good deal of sexual politics reflected in the Daltons’ cratering relationship. As a further source of shame, she turns out to be a better, fiercer protector, but mostly due to reasons of coordination rather than Force Majeure-esque cowardice on his part. Instead, Ben Dalton endures tremendous pain for family, in a climax that would make a Spanish Inquisitor wince. Yet, boy, does that tension build.

Mackenzie Davis is terrific as Louise Dalton, both on a physical and viscerally emotional level. Scoot McNairy is more restrained, but he elevates Ben Dalton above and beyond his “wounded masculinity.” However, young Dan Hough so devastatingly expresses such extreme inner turmoil as poor Ant, it should make some viewers questions the ethics of children appearing in a film like this.

Longing, Starring Richard Gere

Presumably, it is profoundly too late for Daniel Bloch to be a father to his son, but at least the kid will not judge him too harshly. Allen Hilu is beyond Gen Z griping, having perished in a car crash. Bloch’s ex only now informed him of the truth. Despite the tragic circumstances, Bloch tries to find fatherly ways to help his late son—and maybe there is something he can do in director-screenwriter Savi Gabizon’s English-language remake of his Award-winning Israeli film Longing, which releases this Friday in theaters.

Rachel understood Bloch had his reasons for not wanting children, so she never told him when she left town, pregnant with his son. After Hilu’s death, she figures he ought to know the truth, which leaves him speechless. Bloch not only travels to Canada for the funeral, he then takes it upon himself to learn about the son he never knew. He meets the girlfriend Hilu maybe took for granted and Ms. Alice, the pretty French teacher for whom the teen apparently developed an unhealthy romantic obsession.

Steadily, Bloch uncovers the good and the bad, but he usually takes his son’s side, especially with regards to Ms. Alice. He finds some small but meaningful ways to keep his son’s memory alive, which Rachel and her husband appreciate. However, they are skeptical of his suggestion to arrange a posthumous marriage (in accordance with traditional Chinese customs) with Elizabeth Harris, a beautiful teen suicide, whose bereaved father Bloch regularly encounters in the cemetery.

There are a lot of awkward implications to this scheme, but to his credit, Gabizon’s screenplay never shies away from addressing them. It is perhaps a dubious idea, especially for parents who do not subscribe to such beliefs, but if it gives consolation, who’s to judge?

There is indeed a deeply honest and humanistic stream running through Longing. Gabizon never makes it easy for any of his characters, least of all Bloch, whom Gere portrays with extraordinary sensitivity. Gere has a scene relatively early in the film, explaining why he resolved never to have children, because of the abuse he suffered from his father, which is truly devastating. Gere is still a huge movie star, at the peak of his powers, so it is a crime he does not appear in more high-profile releases.

Indeed, Longing could very well be the victim of review-bombing and trolling two times over. In addition to Gere’s well-documented support for the Dalai Lama and Tibetan culture (making him persona non grata with the CCP and their netizens stooges), Longing was adapted from an Israeli film by the original Israeli filmmaker. It would be a shame if the forces of darkness attacked a heartfelt film like Longing, but it is probably inevitable.

The Mole, on Eurochannel

Compared to Lino Ventura’s network in Army of Shadows, it looks like Marie-Helene Dumoulin’s “Vaillance” Resistance group had an above-average survival rate. Yet, they are understandably haunted by the memories of their fallen comrades, particularly their charismatic leader Castille. When Dumoulin discovers they were betrayed by an informer, she confronts her fellow survivors, hoping to uncover the truth in Josee Dayan’s The Mole (a.k.a. Marie-Octubre), which premieres this Friday on Eurochannel.

Thirteen years after the war, Dumoulin has built a successful fashion house, named after her Resistance code-name, Marie-Octubre, with the support of her old comrade and current lover, Jerome Massenet. The Vaillance group now spans the social gamut, including a prominent politician, lawyer, and surgeon, as well as a leftist professor, and a failed businessman who is considered little better than a con artist.

Yet, they duly come together to honor Castille. When the eleven are finally assembled (twelve including Massenet’s longtime family servant Clemence), Dumoulin drops her bombshell. During one of her fashion shows, a German buyer rather casually revealed to her his role as a former SS intelligence officer, who received information from a Vaillance turncoat that led to Castille’s death.

Dayan’s remake of the 1959 Julien Duvivier film has the form and tone of an Agatha Christie movie. All the suspects are assembled in one place, where each one’s motives for betrayal are examined one by one. That is also why it is so much fun. Even though it was made for French TV, The Mole is a terrific French thriller. It is particularly intriguing to see how Vaillance group encompassed leftwing and rightwing extremes, who inevitably point fingers at each other, in the wake of Dumoulin’s accusation.

Final Cut: Michel Hazanavicius Remakes One Cut of the Dead

Ironically, a zombie apocalypse breaks out while a film crew is shooting a zombie movie. But wait, there’s more—as those who have seen Shinichiro Ueda’s One Cut of the Dead already know. However, this is sort of a remake and also sort of a sequel. Apparently, it all transpires in a universe where One Cut exists, but the production is plagued (so to speak) by similar problems. It isn’t easy directing zombies in Michel Hazanavicius’s Final Cut, which opens today in New York.

This time around Higurashi doesn’t look like a Higurashi, but he is just as deranged. Quite irresponsibly, he has invoked a WWII-era zombie curse to illicit more convincing performances from his beleaguered cast. They too have distinctly Japanese names, despite speaking French. All will be explained eventually.

It is interesting to watch Final Cut, for the “first time,” while knowing the big twists. It allows fans of One Cut to appreciate the ways Hazanavicius tweaked the material and how he stayed faithful to the spirit of the original film. Reviewing three similar takes on Invisible Guest was probably one too many, but Hazanavicius’s clever in-film references to One Cut help differentiate Final Cut. In some ways, they also make the French remake/sequel/side-film even nuttier.

Romain Duris and Berenice Bejo are terrific as the Higurashi the director and Natsumi the make-up artist. They sort of play against type—and then they don’t—but they both use their winning screen charismas to full effect. Lyes Salem and Jean-Pascal Zadi are also very funny as the producer and composer-sound designer.

The Rising, on CW

When it comes to amateur sleuths, Neve Kelly is unusually highly motivated, especially for a Gen Z’er. The murder she is trying to solve is her own. Obviously, she is at a bit of a disadvantage as a ghost, but there are a few people who can see her. Regardless, there is a murderer out there, who does not want to be caught in The Rising, Peter McTighe’s eight-episode British remake of the Belgian series Hotel Beau Sejour, which premieres tonight on the CW.

It is not initially shocking the Kelly did not make home the morning after her final motor-cross race of season. When she wakes up in the lake, she is still not aware of her death. Unfortunately, due to the booze at the party and the trauma of the murder, she has no memory of what was done to her, or by whom. At first, nobody seems to be able to see her, but soon she realizes her hard boozing father can. Of course, he cannot believe his eyes, but with a little effort, she convinces him of her presence. Then she also realizes Alex Wyatt, her boyfriend’s cousin can see her too. Eventually, it will get to the point where it would be easier to just list who can’t see Kelly, but frustratingly for her, her grieving mother Maria Kelly never can.

Weirdly, the issue of who can see Kelly and why gets worked out to an acceptable extent. However, there are a lot of other questions about the mechanics of “death” that are never satisfactorily explained. Kelly still needs to take her motorbike to get across town, but nobody can see her driving it, except her well-lubricated dad. When she smashes up a vase, but it appears just as it was, once the living turn their gaze towards it. Frankly, the way dead Kelly interacts with the physical world makes almost no sense. Instead, it seems deliberately fluid, simply to help advance the storyline. Yet, the persistence of those nagging issues of logic constantly distracts from the drama.

There is a lot in The Rising that comes perilously close to genuine silliness. Still, the series has its creepy moments, especially when Kelly links her murder to the previous disappearance of woman, whose body was never recovered. Matthew McNulty and Emily Taaffe are also both excellent as Kelly’s divorced parents, who deal with their grief in very different ways. Alex Lanipekun is also a standout (in a good way) as Kelly’s distraught stepfather, Daniel Sands, whose own grief is unfairly ignored and belittled by his overwrought wife.

Dead Ringers, on Prime

Yes, it is another reboot gender-switcheroo, but in this case, Stewart and Cyril Marcus probably would not object, even if they could. They were the late identical twin gynecologists, whose mysterious deaths inspired the novel that was later adapted by David Cronenberg as Dead Ringers. Weirdly, this series remake-reboot-re-conception is more disturbingly graphic than Cronenberg’s film—way more. A lot is different, but at least they still have the crimson red surgical smocks in showrunner-writer Alice Birch’s six-part Dead Ringers, which premieres today on Prime.

Beverly and Elliot are still sort of strangely unisex names, since the latter has reportedly become more popular for girls in recent years. Regardless, the Mantle twins remain physically identical, but psychologically weird in very different ways. Beverly thinks she is the shy one, but her passive aggression is also quite manipulative. In contrast, Elliot’s foul-mouthed aggression comes right at people. She sees herself as Beverly’s protector and sometimes procurer, helping her shy sister lure lovers, with the understanding they will be quickly disposed of.

Much to Elliot’s surprise, Genevieve (presumably named as a hat-tip to Genevieve Bujold, who co-starred in Cronenberg’s film) is different. Once Elliot handles their first “date,” Beverly starts swooning for her new lover, even considering a long-term commitment with her. The resulting strain on their sibling relationship is exacerbated by the stress of opening their state-of-the-art birthing center, with capital supplied by Rebecca Parker, a truly toxic pharma heiress, who plays the part of philanthropist, but it really just working her own angles.

As issues arise at the new center, the shoot-from-the-hip Elliot grows increasingly unstable. Heck, maybe she even kills a homeless woman, but to be fair, she was even more obnoxious than Elliot. Regardless, Birch and the writers and directors play a lot of games with the twins’ perceptions of reality that undermine the main narrative rather than enhance it.

However, there is a good chance most viewers will not get that far. Frankly, the first episode almost entirely consists of harrowing birth complications and crude sexual conversations that make it an uncomfortably repetitive viewing experience to endure.

This should go without saying, but doctors should not sleep with their patients. Even if you gloss over the Beverly-Genevieve relationship, there is a lot of virtue signaling on behalf women’s health in Birch’s Dead Ringers that basically deconstructs on closer viewing. The Mantles are constantly talking about making their birth center feel safe and welcoming to pregnant women, but every examination room and operating theater seems to have observation windows any passer-by can open. Seriously, what is that all about?

Yet, there are flashes of inspired writing in the series, particularly two scenes, in which a mystery woman and a disgraced journalist both strip off Elliot’s façade and utterly expose her tortured psyche. Unfortunately, that quality is fleeting. Soon, the series repeats the same melodrama, driven by Elliot’s potty mouth, Beverly’s neurotic twitching, and their test tube horror shows. This story would be better executed in feature length, as indeed it was, by Cronenberg.

Yes, Rachel Weisz is frighteningly committed in the dual role of the Mantles, creating two very distinct, deeply troubled personas. However, they are both so much, it is hard to believe either could function or be accepted professionally in the real world. (In contrast, Jeremy Irons’ before-Mantles at least projected the appearance of learned competence.) Jennifer Ehle’s ice-cold snark as Parker is highly amusing, but way too abrasive to be credible in a serious dramatic context.

Cube (the Japanese Remake), on Screambox

Vicenzo Natali's 1997 film gave fans some life-and-death math well before Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code—with an emphasis on the death part. Instead of Fibonacci sequences, it was all about Cartesian Coordinates and primes, as well as brutal death traps. The rumored reboot has yet to happen, but it was remade in Japan, with Natali on-board as an executive producer. You still want to avoid prime numbers in Yasuhiko Shimizu’s Cube, which premieres Tuesday on Screambox.

Like in Natali’s original, six people wake up in a mysterious structure of interlocking cubes with no memory of how they got there. When they eventually find each other, it is clear the blue-collar Ide is the one who has had the most time to figure out the cube’s deadly ways. However, it is the emotionally-damaged teen Uno who figures out the significance of the serial number-like digits attached to each of the cube like rooms. If any of the three sets of three numbers constitutes a prime, there is sure to be a trap waiting for them in the corresponding chamber. However, even if there is no prime, there still could be a trap.

Much like the source film, most of the Cube’s prisoners have serious personal issues, like Ando, the obnoxious business man or Ochi, the psychopath. The one who doesn’t seem to have anything going on, actually holds the biggest secret, which represents the greatest departure from the 1997 film.

Frankly, Shimizu’s remake, adapted by Koji Tokuo is even weaker when it comes to characterization than the original. Whereas the first film might have been slightly more tethered to the real world, Tokuo’s version has more science fiction implications, but there is no time to explore them to any substantial extent.

Children of the Corn (2023)

This is one Stephen King property that can probably be remade without a lot of pressure. The first film from 1984 remains popular, despite departing significantly from the original short story, which really isn’t considered King’s best work anyway. Then there were a raft of questionable straight-to-DVD sequels and SyFy Channel remakes. The last film in the franchise was truly awful, so most fans should be willing to give director-screenwriter Kurt Wimmer a little leeway for his take on Children of the Corn, which releases Friday in theaters.

No strangers come to town this time around, because why would they? Boleyn Williams’ corn-farming community is dying, thanks to pestilence and faulty GMO seeds. It is so bad, her father wants to pull the plug and accept Federal subsidies for not growing corn. However, Williams wants to stay and fight. So does creepy little Eden Edwards and the corn cult that has sprung up around her. She used to live at the local group foster home, but when her brother went crazy-from-the-fields, the sheriff tried to gas him out of the house, killing two dozen other children in the process. Subsequently, Edwards has claimed to have a weird, pagan connection to the corn fields.

Ill-advisedly, Williams recruits Edwards’ help in staging a public inquiry into the state of local agriculture. She thought it would be a public forum, but Edwards and her cult quickly turn it into the corn-country equivalent of Robespierre feeding the guillotines.

Wimmer’s Corn isn’t exactly fantastic, but it is certainly a healthy improvement over the dismal Children of the Corn: Runaway. It also shows some signs a bit of thought went into it, at least at some early stage. Although Wimmer starts out suggesting this will be an environmental horror, he quickly steers away from that dead end.

Despite the supernatural elements, this Children of the Corn seems to more depict the insanity of mob behavior and cults. In some ways, it very definitely critiques the revolutionary impulse, which once again leads to violent horrors Williams never imagined, but Edwards is eager to unleash. It turns out show trials can go in a very, very ugly direction.

Elena Kampouris and Callan Mulvey are both surprisingly strong as Williams and her decent father Robert. In fact, Mulvey might earn Wimmer’s film the distinction of having the nicest dad of any Stephen King film yet. Unfortunately, Bruce Spence plays Pastor Penny as a sweaty, leering stereotype, but that certainly follows in the King tradition. However, young Kate Moyer is certainly creepy, in an appropriately Village of the Damned-kind of way.

Terror Train (2022), on Tubi

More people were killed in Roger Spottiswoode’s 1980 train-bound slasher movie than during Runaway Train, Silver Streak, or Murder on the Orient Express (but probably not Train to Busan). It was supposed to be a party train, but a mystery man in a Halloween mask crashed it hard. There will be another killer party in Philippe Gagnon’s remake of Terror Train, which premieres tomorrow on Tubi (following its screening at this year’s Brooklyn Horror Film Festival).

Alana reluctantly agreed to participate in a really mean hazing prank, but she had no idea “Doc,” the fraternity president, would use a real cadaver. The shock sent the poor-pledge victim to the mental ward. She was appalled, but he blackmailed her to keep silent. Awkwardly, her boyfriend Mo remained in the frat, so there she is, rubbing shoulders with Doc at the first party hosted by more sensitive successor.

You can kind of understand why she accepted the invitation, since it will be a costume party, with a hip, “edgy” magician performing. Unfortunately, there will be an uninvited guest, wielding a sharp knife. This time, our killer passes unnoticed wearing an evil clown disguise, instead of the original’s Groucho Marx mask (which a lot of Millennials presumably wouldn’t recognize). Soon, the psychopath is carving up partiers, but everyone is too busy drinking or watching the entertainment to notice.

Screenwriters Ian Carpenter and Aaron Martin ditched the original’s shocking twist, which comes as no surprise, if you remember what happened. Arguably, the remake might also be somewhat gorier. However, in many other respects, it remains surprisingly faithful to the 1980 film. Most importantly, the enigmatic magician still plays an important role keeping viewers off balance. To this day, it remains David Copperfield’s only true dramatic role, but he was amazingly weird and he had real deal magic chops.

Tim Rozon is shockingly great assuming his role and his cape. Once again, his unnamed magician character really elevates the remake above standard slasher fare. Of course, he is flamboyantly over-the-top when chewing the scenery and performing his illusions. That is the whole point.

Let the Right One In, on Showtime

Traditionally, vampires were tall, dark, and handsome, lustily populating hot-blooded, sexually-charged gothic horror stories. Then Tomas Alfredson’s 2008 film adaptation of John Ajvide Lindqvist’s novel introduced viewers to a tiny, pale vampire leading a lonely existence in a bleak, frigid Scandinavian suburb. Now, Showtime’s series adaptation relocates its story to New York City. So much for that distinctive vibe. At least there is still a twelve-year-old (looking) vampire in creator Andrew Hinderaker’s Let the Right One In, which premieres tomorrow on Showtime.

Eleanor Kane and her father Mark move around a lot, because she is a vampire. They have finally returned to New York (which always reminds people of Blackeberg, Sweden), because her dad hopes finding the vampire who attacked and turned Eleanor a decade ago will hopefully lead to a possible cure.

Of course, “young” Kane will be home-schooled and kept safely locked inside the apartment. He will do all her hunting, just like Eli’s old familiar in the film. Despite his caution, she still manages to befriend Isaiah Cole, the bullied little boy living next door. That inevitably alarms her protective father, especially when he learns Cole’s mother is a NYPD detective. Yet, he is also happy to see her finally making friends and enjoying herself.

Big Daddy Kane believes he might have stumbled across a lead during his blood-hunting, after he kills a junkie exhibiting vampire-like symptoms. For background on the new designer drug, the desperate father targets a low-level pusher, who just happens to be Isaiah’s dead-beat dad. Small world, right? This is all somehow connected to Claire Logan, a brilliant medical researcher, who just learned a few months prior she had a shocking connection to the undead.

Right, there is a lot here fans of the Swedish Right One (or the American Los Alamos-set remake) will not recognize. Look, I do not want to always be the “Remake Cop,” but what made Alfredson’s film and the St. Ann Warehouse theatrical production so special was the chilly, austere vibe (it snowed on stage and it was magical). That is not here. Yes, it incorporates the outsider friendship that blooms between Eleanor and Isaiah, but her relationship with her father takes precedence in the series. By calling it Let the Right One In, Hinderaker is inviting these comparisons, so why not create something entirely new, or at least call it From the World of Let the Right One In or Let Another Right One In or whatever.

That would have better served the series, because once fans get past their disappointment over how the urban chaos that squeezed out all the original’s Spartan intimacy, they might appreciate the things that works. Demian Bichir is terrific as Kane, especially the way he portrays how the desperate father holds on to his Catholic faith. Based on the first five episodes, Right One is surprisingly faith-friendly, without ever getting preachy.

Young thesps Madison Taylor Baez and Ian Forman are quite professional and appealingly sympathetic playing Eleanor and Isaiah. Anika Noni Rose and Jimmie Saito (as Cole and her partner Ben Jones) also have good cop chemistry together doing all the police procedural business.

The Munsters: Revived by Rob Zombie

This beloved TV family was more apple pie-American than the Waltons, the Cleavers, or the Simpsons, but they originally hailed from Transylvania. Sure, some most fans might be somewhat fonder of the Adamses or the Collinses of Collinsport, but we all have a soft spot for Herman Munster and family. That’s why everyone had the same thought when Rob Zombie’s remake was announced: “he better not screw it up.” At least he gets the tone right in The Munsters, which releases today on DVD and Netflix.

Lily is a ghoul (with the moistest) living with her father the Count, who wants her to settle down with a wealthy Nosferatu. Instead, she falls for Herman Munster, the days-old creation of Dr. Henry Augustus Wolfgang. He was stitched together soon after the death of two brothers. One was a brilliant quantum physicist. The other was a moronic nightclub comic. Guess which one’s brain Wolfgang’s assistant Floop was supposed to steal and which he plundered instead.

The Count thinks Herman is an idiot, but it is love at first sight for Lily. Unfortunately, the Count is not wrong about Munster, which makes him easy prey for Lily’s scammer brother Lester, a compulsive gambling werewolf deeply indebted to fortune-teller-real estate developer Zoya Krupp (yes, we still love Maria Ouspenskaya as Maleva in The Wolf Man, but the Roma stereotypes are getting a bit outdated).

Unlike every other film Rob Zombie ever made, The Munsters is sweet and gentle. You won’t hear anyone leveling charges of toxic fandom to defend the film, because it respects what made the original so enduring—a loving nuclear family, who just happen to look like vintage Universal monsters. To that end, there are a number of warmly pleasing sequences, like Herman and Lily’s duet on “I’ve Got You Babe” and Herman’s introduction to Lily’s uncle, the Creature from the Black Lagoon.

The problem with Zombie’s script is that it is a totally unnecessary origin story. We completely get who the Munsters are. There is no need wasting time explaining. Just cut to the riffing on classic monster tropes. Frankly, there is not a lot of genuine conflict to drive the narrative, such as it is. We do not even get to meet Eddie or Marilyn Munster yet, but the original cast-members Butch Patrick and Pat Priest who portrayed them have voice-over cameos (as Tin Can Man and an airline announcer) that viewers should be forewarned of, because otherwise they aren’t likely to register.

The Most Dangerous Game—Again, but More Traditional

Richard Connell was a highly successful writer during his lifetime, but he looks like a one-hit wonder today, because his only work still widely read is his famous man-hunting-man short story. It has been modernized, riffed-on, and ripped-off dozens of times by genre and exploitation filmmakers. For that reason, screenwriter-director Justin Lee earns some points for staying relatively faithful to Connell’s story for a new, period adaptation of The Most Dangerous Game, which opens tomorrow in theaters.

Big-game hunter Marcus Rainsford has dragged his son Sanger along on his latest hunt, as an ill-conceived attempt to treat his PTSD stemming from the younger man’s service as a WWII sniper. Unfortunately, their steamer crashes on the reef off Baron von Wolf’s private island reserve, with the help of one of his mines.

Initially, the Baron is thrilled to host an esteemed hunter like Rainsford’s father, but when he refuses to participate in von Wolf’s literal man-hunt, the mad man kills him in front of his son’s eyes. Then Rainsford fils is forced to become the prey, along with a pair of brother-sister captives. For Rainsford, von Wolf is especially repellent, because he is a senior German military, who disappeared after the war.

Although Connell’s original story was set in the 1920s, the post-WWII era is still somewhat traditional, matching that of the second film adaptation, Robert Wise’s A Game of Death. Despite the frequent revamps and reboots, the story still works better in a period setting, when transcontinental travel necessarily resulting in long periods without outside communication.

Unlike possibly every other film adaptation, Lee’s screenplay reverts to Connell’s original name for his protagonist: “Sanger.” Some changes have been made to the hunting action, but Sanger Rainsford’s method of escape in the story is instead used to explain the presence of a survivor, living guerilla-style in the jungle, so the film still feels consistent to its roots.

Firestarter, Remade by Blumhouse

Arguably, it is more of a thriller with sf elements than a horror story, but the premise is pretty horrifying for parents. Charlie McGee did not just inherit a resemblance to her parents. She also has their “shine.” That was the whole idea for the shadowy government contractor DSI (aren’t they always shadowy), when they experimented on Andy McGee and his wife Vicky Tomlinson-McGee. Little Charlie’s resulting powers are getting harder for her to keep in check at the start of Keith Thomas’s Blumhouse-produced remake of Firestarter, which opens today (and starts streaming on Peacock).

The McGees know their daughter could be so dangerously powerful, she could never have a normal life if DSI and the “deep state” ever got their hands on her. They live under assumed names and completely off the net, but bullied Charlie is starting to attract unwanted attention, especially when her temper ignites real fires.

Captain Hollister knows she is still out there and suspects the potential of her developing X-Men-like abilities. Hollister also has just the man to track down the McGees. John Rainbird understands them all too well. He too has the power to get inside people’s heads, perhaps even better than Tomlinson-McGee and can withstand McGee’s power to “push” mental images and suggestions, at least to an extent. Unfortunately, that “pushing” is starting to take a toll on McGee’s health.

Scott Teems’ screenplay adaptation of Stephen King’s novel very much follows the structure of the 1984 film, which was pretty faithful to the book. It definitely leans into the father-daughter relationship, because that is the whole point of the story (in all its incarnations). However, the family-versus-agents conflict is familiar, to the point of staleness. Horror fans might know John Carpenter was originally in-line to direct the ’84 film, but he lost the gig when The Thing bombed (hard to believe, since it’s now regarded as a classic). Sadly, Blumhouse did not hire him to direct this time around, but he did contribute to the score. You can probably best hear his influence during the tense, confrontational third act.

Branagh’s Rockin’ Death on the Nile

Who knew Hercule Poirot had such hip taste in music? It came as a surprise to him too, but he really grooves to Sister Rosetta Tharpe. Technically, she is called Salome Otterbourne, but she plays electric guitar and her repertoire includes “Rock Me” and “Up Above My Head.” However, she is not completely Sister Rosetta, since she might possibly be kind of slightly interested in him too. Regardless, Poirot will have to concentrate on the bodies that start piling up in director-star Kenneth Branagh’s Death on the Nile, which releases Tuesday on DVD and BluRay.

Like Branagh’s Wallander, his take on Poirot is decidedly sadder and, in this case, even tragic. Screenwriter Michael Green punches up Dame Agatha’s popular novel by giving the Belgian sleuth a rather heartbreaking backstory, flashing back to Poirot’s service in WWI. The truth is, it does help explain why Poirot is so fastidiously Poirot.

Regardless, Poirot finds himself in Egypt, along with newlyweds Simon Doyle and Linette Ridgeway-Doyle, who met at a Salome Otterbourne gig (that Poirot also happened to attend). At the time, Doyle was engaged to Jackie de Belfort, Ridgeway’s dirt-poor best friend. Since then, Doyle traded up to the heiress. De Belfort took the news quite badly. In fact, she has chased the happy couple every step of their Nile cruise honeymoon. Her stalking has grown so unhinged, Poirot agreed to give her a fatherly talking-to. Despite his concern, Ridgeway-Doyle is soon bumped off, but it happens after De Belfort is sedated, following a violent altercation with her former fiancé.

That leaves Poirot with literal boatload of suspects (all aboard the S.S. Karnak), all of whom have motives. Naturally, the elite detective proceeds to investigate, with the help of his old friend Bouc, substituting for David Niven’s Col. Race in the 1978 film. Several of the supporting characters have been reconfigured and assigned different jobs and stations in life, but the fundamental murder mystery remains the same.

However, the music is way better this time and Branagh maybe even makes better use of the grand Egyptian settings. He is a more neurotic Poirot than Ustinov ever was, but he also develops some unusually bittersweet, ambiguously romantic chemistry with Sophie Okonedo’s Otterbourne.

Before We Die, the English Remake

You could say DI Hannah Laing believes in tough love, but not “going by the book.” For instance, the two most important men in her life are Sean Hardacre, her married partner, whom she had been sleeping with, and her son, Christian Radic, whom she busted for drugs. His remarried father is Croatian, which will be significant when he lands a dishwashing job in a restaurant serving as a cover for a Croatian criminal clan. Family complicates everything in Matt Baker’s British adaptation of the Swedish series Before We Die, which premieres tomorrow on PBS.

Radic hasn’t been too keen to see his mom since his release, but he has kept in touch with Hardacre, who was something of father-figure to him. In fact, he volunteered to serve as Hardacre’s confidential source, when he began to suspect there was something funny about the Mimica family at the restaurant. He pretends not to understand Croatian, so he picks up plenty.

Unfortunately, Hardacre soon meets with an untimely demise. Unable to fully express her grief, Laing starts running her lover’s source, via his off-the-books phone, unaware that it is actually her son. She only confides the truth in her boss, DCI Tina Carter, and Billy Murdoch, who was loaned out to their organized crime task force, presumably from MI5. He is an ornery cuss, but that is why Laing trusts him. However, there is someone in the department who has been feeding intel to the Mimicas.

Perhaps the Swedish original is amazing, but as crime series goes, the British Before We Die is competent, but nothing very special. Frankly, there is way too much mother-son melodramatic angst. Also, Radic’s “Romeo-and-Juliet” interest in Bianca Mimica, the innocent little sister of gang boss Davor Mimica usually feels more like a plot contrivance than a relationship. However, there are a couple of twists that represent real game-changers (they were probably utterly shocking in the Swedish series).

Hard Hit, the Korean Version, on DVD

This is the latest Miss Granny or Invisible Guest/Badla/Invisible Witness-style international remake franchise. First there was the Spanish film, then a German remake, followed by this take from Korean. Supposedly, there will even be a Hollywood version starring Liam Neeson, but the Korean one is probably the best, because the South Korean film industry seems to have such a comparative advantage for thrillers. Regardless, it will be like watching four films at once if you check out Kim Chang-ju’s Hard Hit when it releases today on DVD and VOD.

Sung-gyu picked a heck of a day to pretend to be an engaged dad and drive his young son and teen daughter Hye-in to school. It turns out a mysterious Speed-like villain has placed a bomb under his seat, which will explode if anyone leaves the car. Initially, Sung-gyu isn’t sure what to believe, until he sees what happens to a colleague. To save his kids, the investment banker must defraud his clients to pay the bomber’s costly ransom. Of course, he is forbidden from talking to the police and the bomber appears to have the means of enforcing his dictates.

Inevitably, Sung-gyu’s reckless driving attracts the attention of the Seoul cops, who deduce the father is a likely “family annihilator,” because they are dumber than a box of rocks. In fact, the stupidity of the police quickly takes on astronomical proportions, except for Bahn, the Chief of the bomb squad, who is definitely the film’s saving grace.

There is white-knuckle potential to Hard Hit’s premise, but it squanders credibility in the way it portrays the police force as abjectly clueless. It also openly invites audience sympathy for the bad guy during the third act, but it is impossible to follow it there, after we see him commit such awful crimes. Even though Sung-gyu and his late colleague might be morally compromised, the psycho bombers risks and kills a lot of innocent victims.

Despite a fair degree of suspense and some neatly executed chases and stand-offs, Hard Hit just leaves viewers with conflicted emotions. It doesn’t seem fair Kim’s adaptation of Alberto Marini’s screenplay puts us through all this, just to arrive at a point of lukewarm moral ambiguity. Frankly, the film reflects an antiquated worldview held by demagogues like Elizabeth Warren that anyone who invests in the stock market is basically like the Monopoly Man, lighting their cigars with hundred-dollar bills. The reality is anyone who has a 401K through their company is invested in the market. Admittedly, Sung-gyu’s firm has murky history with respects to small retail investors, but any sense of nuance is lost during the third act.