V/H/S/85, on Shudder

People did not overshare in the 1980s, except for characters in indie films, who liked to keep video diaries. You could argue the V/H/S found footage anthology franchise follows in that tradition. Recording your crimes is a very post-2000 smart-phone thing to do, but in the 1980s this kind of footage was the stuff of urban legend. Fans get another batch of supposedly underground video footage in V/H/S/85, which premieres Friday on Shudder.

So far, the V/H/S films produced for Shudder have not been as good as the initial trilogy, with the previous installment, V/H/S/99 representing an all-time series low. Happily, 85 recovers some lost ground, particularly with the first full segment, “No Wake,” written and directed by Mike P. Nelson. Ironically, this segment initially seems to repeat the sins of 99, serving up a lot of off-putting sadism, as a sniper on shore picks off a group of water-skiers. However, there is a massive twist that changes everything.

In fact, the twist will continue twisting when Nelson continues the two-part story later in the film in “Ambrosia,” which gives us a radically different perspective on the events. It is also very clever and cathartically satisfying.

Gigi Saul Guerrero’s “God of Death” pointedly depicts the petty rivalries and eccentricities of a low-budget CDMX news broadcast during the real-life earthquake of 1985. It leads to a colorful and dramatic revelation, but a lot of brutality before that seems unnecessarily nihilistic. This is a better film than 99, but it is still incredibly dark.

Natasha Kermani’s “TKNOGD” is a mildly amusing satire of Eighties hipsterism. Fittingly it takes place in the Public Theater, but it is a rather thin piece that proceeds in a straight, predictable line.

Scott Derrickson (who helmed The Black Phone) provides another highpoint for both 85 and the Shudder trilogy (at least thus far). Again, it starts out so brutally, more sensitive viewers might give up on it, but the premise is a killer. It turns out, the police have been getting video tapes of a series of grisly murderers almost a week before they happen. If Black Phone was Derrickson's tribute to the phone company, then this is his homage to the Post Office. The twist is dark, of course, but it is lethally effective.

Dr. Cheon and the Lost Talisman

Thanks to K-horror, the shaman is as familiar an exorcist as the Catholic priest. Korean cinema also has plenty of Catholic exorcists too, so they must have more than their share of evil sprits to contend with. Smaller communities are lucky to have a village shaman like Dr. Cheon’s late grandfather, but he died battling evil. Now, his grandson will have to finish his fight in Kim Seong-sik’s Dr. Cheon and the Lost Talisman, which opens Friday in theaters.

By birthright, Dr. Cheon should have succeeded his grandfather, but he deferred to his younger brother’s greater interest and aptitude. Nevertheless, when his brother was also killed by the “Mage,” Dr. Cheon became the shaman he never wanted to be. Mostly, he and his flunky, In-bae perform fake exorcisms, to give their clients peace of mind (and for the money), but he is always looking for the real deal. That would be Yoo-kyung’s little sister Yoo-min, who is indeed possessed by the Mage.

It turns out Cheon’s grandfather successfully bound the Mage to the mountain outside Yoo-kyung’s small town. Nearly everyone else in town is either part of the cult that serves the Mage or vessels for him to possess. Conveniently, the broken shard from his grandfather’s staff can free those under the Mage’s power, but he still lacks the necessary mojo to beat the evil spirit on his own. Yoo-kyung’s latent second sight might make the difference, but it also makes her the Mage’s primary target.

Adapted from a popular webcomic, Lost Talisman leans more forcefully into shamanic themes then even Na hong-jin’s The Wailing, which definitely distinguishes it from the possession horror pack. However, it mostly settles into the no man’s land between the horror and dark fantasy genre, so it will not scratch the demonic horror itch for fans the way The Exorcist: Believer will. On the other hand, if you see a lot of that kind of film (as some of us do), its differences are refreshing.

Pet Sematary: Bloodlines, on Paramount+

Stephen King is Maine’s most famous author, but he hardly promotes state tourism. For instance, fictional Ludlow’s most notable landmark is its infamous animal burial ground. Who wants to visit? As we know, people rarely leave town, but “sometimes they come back.” The sinister backstory of the 2019 remake is explored in Lindsey Anderson Beer’s Pet Sematary: Bloodlines, which premieres Friday on Paramount+, because its Halloween season.

Jud Crandall will grow up to look like John Lithgow (or Fred Gwynne in the 1989 film), but in the 1960s, he was an undrafted teen, planning to leave home as a Peace Corps volunteer, along with his girlfriend Norma. His dad Dan Crandall wants him to get out of town, because he knows the town’s evil secret.

So does Bill Baterman, the son of Crandall’s estranged childhood friend Timmy, who just returned from Vietnam, except he didn’t really. However, by burying his dead son in the shunned cemetery, he rises again—but of course, he is different. The revived Timmy Baterman is nasty and sadistic. He seems to know people’s darkest secrets, which he reveals to toy with his potential prey.

To the credit of Beer and co-screenwriter Jeff Buhler, they do not simply remake the original story fiftysome years earlier. Instead, they focus on Timmy Baterman, who was the subject of Crandall’s monologue in the original 1989 film. They also explore the town’s early lore, some of which is new to Bloodlines, but still feels very King-ish.

Frankly, Bloodlines is a much better film than the disappointing 2019 Pet Sematary, to which it ostensibly serves as a prequel. It definitely helps that it is its own film, so it cannot be directly compared to Mary Lambert’s version. Right from the start, Beer’s execution hits the appropriately eerie notes, without radically reinventing the franchise.

The Spencer Sisters, on CW

A lot of mystery novelists probably think they could be the next Jessica Fletcher. Of course, it is not like she ever had to solve any particularly complex mysteries. Each episode basically had three guest stars: a cop, the daughter of an old friend, and some dude acting squirrely. Regardless, Darby Spencer has little patience for her novelist mother Victoria’s drama, but she still solves cases with her, because she doesn’t have anything better to do in creator Alan McCullough’s The Spencer Sisters, which premieres tomorrow on the CW.

Sometimes, flatterers say Victoria and Darby Spencer look like sisters. The mother loves it, but it makes the daughter wince. The daughter-sister was trying to pursue a career as a Toronto cop, like her deceased father, but she quits in frustration at the sexism and incompetence of senior detectives. She also breaks up with her cheating crypto-trading boyfriend, forcing her to temporarily crash with mom.

Mother Victoria is stressing everyone out over her latest book launch, because sales have been slipping. Of course, Darby is annoyed to be there, but it offers her a chance to catch up with her old friend, Kaia Zhang, who will become their first client in the pilot, “The Scholar’s Snafu.” Poor Zhang has been unfairly accused of plagiarism, because her thesis turned up on a site of frequently re-purposed academic papers. However, the posted paper happens to be an earlier draft, not reflecting her recent revisions.

McCullough and co-writer Jason Ip are clearly more focused on the mother-daughter relationship dynamic than intricately plotted mysteries. However, this episode shines a light on corruption in academia, which most network programs are reluctant to address. Jennifer Hui is reasonable credible as the confused and alarmed Zhang, so we can almost believe she would desperate enough to ask the squabbling Spencers for help.

The second episode is a legit murder case, ostensibly being investigated by the Ontario suburb’s new Lestrade-like detective, so naturally Victoria Spencer wants to step in. She sees crime-solving as a way to heal her strained relationship with her daughter. Darby is not so sure, but she still doesn’t have any better offers. Apparently, Marlina Briggs’ boy-toy fiancé was killed with an experimental drug her own company developed, but at least the episode is not as anti-Big Pharma as you might expect. It isn’t very complicated either. (Of course, it does not help that each episode must devote substantial time for Darby Spencer to seek the sage counsel of her gay besties, Zane and Antonio).

Quantum Leap: This Took Too Long (Season Premiere)

History got the end of the Cold War right, but that was not necessarily the case with every battle and maybe one of the related wars. Fortunately, Dr. Ben Song can help fix a clandestine Air Force mission that went wrong in 1978. Not so fortunately for him, though. He thought his leap in the season one finale would be his last, but his show was renewed for a second season, so here he is. For reasons not yet clear to him or viewers, Song must take this leap solo, without the help of his holographic support team in “This Took Too Long,” the season premiere of showrunner Martin Gero’s Quantum Leap continuation series, which premieres tomorrow on NBC.

Apparently, a lot of embargoed stuff happened since the previous episode, but the upshot is Song must navigate this leap on his own. He finds himself part of a team of Air Force foul-ups and their commander, Lt. Ellen Grier, who is trying to prove herself to her sexist superior officers. Their orders are to escort a crate (which looks like it could hold the Ark of the Covenant) through Soviet airspace, to India. (India was closer to the USSR during the Cold War, but whatever.)

Indeed, theirs is not to wonder why, but a little context might be helpful when they are shot down. Song has leaped into their comms specialist, so they are probably getting a serious upgrade in skills. He also remembers a lot of the military insights he gleaned from his fiancée, Addison Augustine, a veteran, whose words he frequently revisits via flashbacks. Although he previously self-described as a “pacifist,” to survive this leap Dr. Song will have to fight Commies, which makes up for sulky Sgt. Curtis Bailey’s “don’t-ask-don’t-tell” backstory.

This episode raises all kinds of questions, but provides very few answers—more like none. Yet, this is still one of the better written self-contained leaps. There is a good deal of old school Cold War action to which Song constructively applies his brainy problem-solving skills. Fans who remember when the original series was new will most likely appreciate Song’s results.

Magnum P.I.: Hit and Run (Midseason Premiere)

This is one of the few shows on TV that features veteran characters who are not solely defined by their PTSD. Nevertheless, Theodore “TC” Calvin is currently in VA hospital, because of the gunshot wound he unfortunately sustained in the season 5A cliffhanger ending. He is understandably frustrated, but it is also worth noting he seems to be getting excellent care there, as my father did from the VA, despite how the media often smears VA hospitals. Meanwhile, life goes on for Thomas Magnum and Juliet Higgins when they accept an unusual case in “Hit and Run,” the midseason premiere of the Lenkov-verse reboot of Magnum P.I., which premieres tomorrow on NBC.

After a jokey prologue (which might in itself be notable for featuring a Russian oligarch as a bad guy), Magnum and Higgins get down to business. A hitman wants to hire them, via a planted burner phone, to protect the target of the contract he just refused. The mystery man kills for money, but he draws the line at a twelve-year-old girl.

Ordinarily, Magnum and Higgins would not be doing business with him, but these are extraordinary circumstances. Frankly, this could be a reasonably solid premise for a full feature. The scene in which they are hired is indeed fairly cinematic and the episode later echoes Leon the Professional when their client takes on an active role protecting the girl. Few critics will ever mention it, but Paul Blackthorne gives a great guest-starring performance as the conscientious mystery man.

In between the action, Higgins and Magnum banter and wait for the results of her pregnancy test the way all couples should (but maybe often don’t). Viewers also frequently check-in on TC as he struggles to acclimate to his wheelchair, with the help of regular series crony Kenny “Shammy” Shamberg, whose legs were paralyzed during the Iraq War. It is still unclear whether TC’s lower paralysis is temporary or permanent, which further fuels his anger and pessimism. Yet, these scenes are also handled with a good deal of sensitivity and empathy.

Found, on NBC

It must be a nightmare to work in HR at Gabi Mosley & Associates. Almost everyone on staff carries massive loads of psychological and emotional baggage. In fact, that is exactly why Mosley hired many of her employees. She might carry the most herself. As the teenaged victim of a kidnapper, she has dedicated her life to rescuing others. However, her cellar hides a dark secret in creator Nkechi Okoro Carroll’s Found, which premieres tomorrow on NBC.

Mosley constantly insists everybody deserves to be found—not just little blond girls. Okay, so can we agree defunding the police is a bad idea? Naturally, her recovery and “crisis management” agency often clashes with the DC police, except her primary contact, Det. Mark Trent, with whom she has some serious sexual tension percolating.

Regardless, it is hard to see how GM&A stays in business, because in the first five episodes provided for review, they only take on pro bono cases, searching for missing sex workers, illegal aliens, and gay senior citizens. A case like the U.S. senator’s missing daughter Sarah sure would pay a lot of bills in the pilot episode, but instead, Mosley and Associates are looking for a teen who vanished from foster care. However, the cases intersect.

The pilot is probably the best written of the five initial episodes and it might be the least strident. Unfortunately, the scenes in which Mosley interrogates her former captor, only known as “Sir,” for insight into her current cases, while she holds him prisoner in her basement, are never remotely credible. They also lack any appreciable tension or suspense. Frankly, viewers will feel like they are the ones being held prisoner.

“Missing While Sinning” focuses rather unremarkably on the search for a missing escort, but at least the ultimate villain is slightly surprising (given the series’ ideology). Unfortunately, “Missing While Widowed” makes up for it and then some. Episode four, “Missing While a Pawn” could be the best of the series, if not the pilot, because it focuses on the very real evil of human trafficking. It also undercuts Mosley’s nauseating moral superiority, perhaps more than it intended. Yet, “Missing While Undocumented” is just all “Dreamer” PR, all the time.

Indeed, if Found were a cartoon, it would run on the editorial page rather than funnies. Throughout each episode, it is clear the most important thing is the message. Lead thesp Shanola Hampton’s index finger must get sore from all the stern pointing and wagging. It is a real shame, because she happens to have some decent Tracy-and-Hepburn chemistry with Brett Dalton’s Det. Trent, who is one of the few characters network viewers will identify with.

Gabrielle Walsh is also very good as Lacey Quinn, one of Mosley’s associates who was also a victim of Sir. Unfortunately, much of the drama she has suspecting her boss’s squirrelly behavior is awkwardly contrived and poorly written—anyone who really has a serial abductor chained up in their basement would give smarter answers to basic questions. The agoraphobic computer analyst is an overly familiar cliché by now, and Mosley’s gay enforcer constantly over-compensates for the sake of contradicting stereotypes. Given the beatdowns he administers, it is a miracle any of their cases end with prosecutions.

Appendage, on Hulu

Parasites often develop a lot of attitude in movies, like Bad Milo or How to Get Ahead in Advertising. The growth coming out of Hannah’s birthmark displays especially nasty tendencies. She quickly learns it poses a greater danger than she initially suspected in screenwriter-director Anna Zlokovic’s Appendage, which premieres today on Hulu.

Hannah has a lot of issues, even before her birthmark starts doing a lot of gross, puss-related body horror stuff. According to the doctor, it might be related to remnant DNA of a twin that died in-utero. Then something monstrous literally crawls out of it. Whatever it is, the thing takes perverse delight in preying on Hannah’s guilt and insecurities. Thanks to the always reliable internet, she finds a support group for people in similar circumstances. At this point, Appendage takes a dramatic turn from body horror to a very different subgenre—and it is a wickedly clever and effective downshift.

It would be spoilery to spell out much more, but Appendage is massively creepy and subversively fun, in a way body horror can never be. Zlokovic’s screenplay (expanded from a six-minute short) skewers support groups and millennial angst. However, it is worth noting the abusive fashion designer she works for could never behave in such a manner if he worked in mainstream corporate American. Frankly, people working in film and TV often project the sins of their own industry on the greater society, when they are really the worst offenders.

Creepy Crawly, on DVD

Nobody was more responsible for Covid shutdowns than Donald Trump. He implemented everything Anthony “Gain of Function” Fauci wanted and then gave his Covid policy chief an award when he left office. With that in mind, you might call this Thai hotel a “Trump Hotel,” because during the Wuhan pandemic, it caters to quarantine business. It definitely houses a public health risk, but the parasitic monster is much more dangerous than Covid in Chalit Krileadmongkon & Pakphum Wongjinda’s Creepy Crawly (a.k.a. The One Hundred), which releases Tuesday on DVD and BluRay.

This “Trump Hotel” has definitely seen better days, so the quarantine business represents a lucrative lifeline for the slimy hotel manager Wit, who will sexually harass anyone wearing a skirt. However, he is a bit alarmed to learn Fame, one of his reluctant new guests, is a travel influencer, who can ruin the hotel’s reputation. She also has a rare blood disease she has tried to keep secret from the clinical staff.

Fame is traveling with her brother (and video editor) Fiew, but she immediately develops a bit of chemistry with Leo, a Taekwondo champion traveling with his little sister and their deaf widowed father. Leo resents the old man for reasons that will be revealed, but the family will have to come together when the centipedes start to attack. The creepy-crawly things would be bad enough on their own, but they are being controlled by a “Tablongplum,” a giant insectoid monster that apparently has body-snatching powers, sort of like the monster in John Carpenter’s The Thing.

The centipedes are really creepy, but the film is never so disgusting it becomes unwatchable (so dismiss any comparisons to Human Centipede from your mind). Frankly, the centipede swarms might even be more unnerving than the monster directing them. The seedy hotel is also an effective setting.

However, Wit’s jerkweed behavior gets to be a real buzzkill. The guests’ acquiescence is also the film’s biggest credibility issue—it is hard to believe every single guest obediently refrains from calling the cops after the first incident—unless it is all meant as a commentary on society’s compliance during the pandemic—in which case it is spot on. After all, it is not by coincidence this film is set during Covid-times.

Django, on Netflix

He still comes to town dragging a mysterious casket, but this time, the spaghetti western legend carries a lot more emotional baggage. Much of it is guilt stemming from the fate of his long-lost daughter Sarah, his only surviving family member. They will soon be reunited, rather awkwardly, in co-creator-writers Leonardo Fasoli & Maddalena Ravagli’s ten-part series reboot Django, which premieres tomorrow on Netflix.

This time around, “Django” (the totally unremarkable, everyday alias he adopted) is a veteran of the Confederate army rather than the Union Blue. Eventually, we learn he only signed up for the enlistment bonus he thought he needed for his desperately poor family. Unfortunately, war changed Django, so he decided to stay away when it ended. Tragically, he learned too late his family needed his protection.

He has followed a lead to New Babylon, a town of mostly freedmen that looks like it was built by Ewoks. The leader, John Ellis, has been feuding with the ultra-judgmental “Lady” Elizabeth, who is leads a gang of marauding moralizers in the neighboring town. They have some very personal history together, which is partly why her Pops deeded the land for New Babylon to Ellis.

Despite their considerable age difference, Ellis is engaged to Sarah. It is a bit off-putting to some, considering he raised her like a daughter after the tragedy-to-be-revealed-later, especially to his son Seymour, who carries his own slightly incestuous torch for Sarah. Initially, she resents Django’s sudden reappearance, but he is quite helpful saving the good citizens of New Babylon from Elizabeth’s goons.

Django best approximates the neo-spaghetti Western it wants to be through its multinational co-production funding structure. English was probably the fourth or fifth language you would have most likely heard on set, even though it is an English-language production (albeit with considerable over-dubbing). However, it lacks the stark archetypal emotional simplicity of real vintage spaghetti westerns. When it is all said and done, there is practically nothing about Django that we won’t know. For this genre, that kind of over-sharing is annoying.

Fasoli and Ravagli build to a revelation linking the two families that is supposed to be grandly tragic but is really just contrived. However, the climactic gun fight in episode ten is a real barn-burner that partially makes up for all the slow brooding (yes, that is when the you-know-what finally comes out).

Matthias Schoenaerts (Bullhead) has the right quiet hulking presence for Django (was his name-O), but he must spend more time on daddy issues than gunning down bad guys. Nicholas Pinnock has a convincing swagger and wears the mantle of flawed moral authority quite well as the senior Ellis. However, Lisa Vicari consistently kills any momentum the series might have built up with her whiny portrayal of Sarah. Noomi Rapace maybe fairs even worse. She is cartoony in the wrong kind of way as Lady Elizabeth.

Crazy Fun Park, on Hulu

Right, what could possibly go wrong in an abandoned amusement park? Frankly, the neighboring Australian town has been downright negligent by not razing this deathtrap. Every year, more curious kids are fatally lured to the park—and it is easy to see why. Unfortunately, Chester Dante’s lifelong best friend Mapplethorpe Landis will be the latest casualty. However, Dante’s grief is alleviated when he learns Landis’s spirit is still there. They all are. It turns out the ghost-park is indeed haunted in creator-writer Nicholas Verso’s ten-part Crazy Fun Park, which premieres Sunday on Hulu.

It sure sounds like these two friends were named after 1980’s horror filmmakers, Joe Dante and John Landis, doesn’t it? (The second episode is titled “One of Us,” so there’s a Freaks reference too). Regardless, Mapplethorpe Landis is as annoying as his unlikely name. For years, they have worked on their epic zombie comic, but from what we can tell, Dante the artist is the one with the talent, whereas Landis the writer just keeps making up outlandish stuff, off the top of his head. Lately, Dante is starting to wonder if maybe he should start to grow up. In a further healthy development, he is also beginning to show an in girls, especially since Violletta Nakata moved to town.

Initially, all three explored Crazy Fun Park together, but later Landis returned on his own. It was the first night the lads ever had a row—and it is his last to draw living breath. Of course, Dante is wracked with guilt, but when he returns to the scene of the accident, the ghostly Landis has some reassuring news for him. The problem is Remus, the sinister leader of the spectral gang, is a stickler for enforcing the “rules” government ghostly interactions with humans (unless they are not in his interests). Dante will literally play his games and abide by his rules. As his grades nosedive, everyone starts worrying about Dante, particularly his parents and Nakata. Meanwhile, Remus manipulates Dante and Landis to serve his own schemes.

Most of the ghosts are “nice” in Crazy Fun Park, but it is still more horror than comedies like Topper and the like, albeit in a R.L. Stine-writing-for-his-younger-readers kind of way. Justin Holborow definitely has the right Kiefer-Sutherland-in-Lost-Boys-thing going on as Remus, which helps a lot.

Farhadi’s Dancing in the Dust

Nazar is divorcing out of immaturity—both his own and that of Iranian society. Sadly, he truly loves his young wife, Reyhane, but his parents and friends insist on the divorce, because her mother is rumored to be a sex-worker. Of course, they do not use the term “sex worker” in early 2000’s Iran. Nazar’s lack of responsibility makes everything worse in Asghar Farhadi’s freshly restored debut feature, Dancing in the Dust, which releases today on VOD.

Nazar borrowed money to marry Reyhane and he still owes her mother a dowry. Thanks to the divorce his parents insisted on, he is now deeply in debt, with nothing to show for it. To avoid his creditors, he even sleeps at the zoo, where he works mucking out stalls, as one good whiff will confirm.

That all sounds very much like the Farhadi of A Separation and The Salesman, a filmmaker who has come to specialize in the emotionally harrowing intersection of intimate family drama and the unyielding Iranian legal system and the surrounding social prejudices. However, Dust takes an un-Farhadi-like excursion into feverish absurdity, when Nazar stows away in the van of an old venomous snake-catcher (who was making a sales call at the zoo). A few hours later, Nazar wakes in the arid plains, where he must contend with the angry snake-dealer.

Muzzle: K-9 Officers Fighting Fentanyl

Chinese exports have fallen drastically recently, except their illicit fentanyl trade. One brave LAPD officer will be killed trying to fight a gang of Mainland-connected fentanyl traffickers. He happened to have four legs, but as a K-9 officer, he is due the same honors as his two-legged colleagues. Naturally, his partner-handler is keen to avenge him in John Stalberg Jr.’s Muzzle, which opens tomorrow in New York.

Of course, Officer Jake Rosser has PTSD, because every veteran character must have PTSD. Hollywood simply refuses to consider any other aspect of the military service experience. Fortunately, partnering with Ace has been therapeutic for Rosser. Consequently, when Ace is murdered in the line of duty, Rosser starts spiraling downward again.

According to the autopsy, Ace was really killed by fentanyl poisoning, not the injuries he sustained from the fugitive drug dealer. Even though Rosser is suspended pending a clean psych evaluation, he starts following the leads back to a new fentanyl gang, with convenient connections to a Chinese pharmaceutical company. He also starts training a new partner.

Rosser can relate to Socks. She was badly mistreated by her last handler, whose identity is shrouded by an Internal Affairs investigation. Socks will be more of a project than Leland, the department’s senior trainer, recommends for Rosser, but they quickly form a bond. Rosser also deduces Socks’ murky past involves the same fentanyl gang that killed Ace.

Clearly, Muzzle is considerably darker than Turner & Hooch, since there is an Old Yeller moment within the first ten minutes. Yet, we get to know Ace sufficiently well for his funeral, with full departmental honors, to be darned emotionally crushing. Screenwriter Carlyle Eubank never cops out or opts for easy sentimentalism. This is a tough, gritty police story that features K-9 cops on nearly equal footing with their human counterparts. It also has the honesty and guts to call out China for its role in the fentanyl trade.

[Empty] Head Count

Periodically, local jurisdictions wanting to get tough on crime have tried to reinstate chain gangs, until the professional criminal advocacy groups threaten to sue. Admittedly, this penal practice looks pretty dangerous when an unseen wild animal (straying far outside its natural habitat) starts feasting on the line. However, our anti-hero takes the opportunity to escape, leaving his chain-mates to their fate (they were fine, mostly), in Ben & Jacob Burghart’s Head Count, which releases tomorrow in theaters and on-demand.

Technically, Deputy Sawyer saved Kat’s life. He repaid him by stealing his police cruiser. He still has the leg iron, minus the chain, but folks don’t seem to notice or care much around the Kansas-Missouri border. In fact, he rewards the friendly encouragement of one old timer by stealing his pick-up, which conveniently comes with a revolver. The Burgharts will make a big show out of the running total of bullets he has chambered. Keep in mind, reloading is always an option.

Turns out Kat is a terrible fugitive. He keeps hanging around his brother and his ex-girlfriend, Jo much to the annoyance of her current man. Even dumb old Deputy Sawyer can find Kat, but instead of arresting him, he forces him to steal from an illegal gun dealer.

Frankly, the most memorable work in Head Count, which really ought to be called “Bullet Count,” comes from Ryan Kwanten as Sawyer, which is saying something. Unfortunately, it is almost immediately evident Aaron Jakubenko cannot carry this film, partly because Kat is such a dull and unappealing character. There is a late, third act attempt to bolster sympathy for him, but it still involves foolish behavior and stupid choices.

The Hunt for Raoul Moat, in The Epoch Times

There will always be criticism of drama based on true crimes, but BritBox's THE HUNT FOR RAOUL MOAT generally gets the right balance between the suspense of the chase and elegiac sympathy for Moat's victims, including the cops he deliberately targeted. EPOCH TIMES exclusive review up here.

Nightmare, on Shudder

Slam some coffee or Mountain Dew and try to sleep as little as possible. That is the health advice we regularly get from horror movies, so it only seems prudent to follow it. Seriously, sleep paralysis and night terrors will get you every time. Mona definitely suffers from such disorders, but with demonic complications in screenwriter-director Kjersti Helen Rasmussen’s Nightmare, which premieres Friday on Shudder.

Mona and her boyfriend Robby just bought their own apartment, surprisingly cheap. Why yes, somebody died there, but the details are vague. The neighbors are also rather high-strung and it isn’t just the stress of having a new born. Unfortunately, all that distress seems to migrate to Mona after the mother’s suicide.

It is hard for Mona to discuss her nightmares with Robby, partly because he is an insensitive idiot, but also because it is his dark doppelganger who terrorizes her dreams. Sleep specialist Aksel Bruun has seen it before. In fact, he saw it when he tried to treat Mona’s neighbor. His sleep clinic is state of the art, but for a medical man, he is strangely well versed in the lore of Mare, the nightmare demon.

Nightmare distinguishes itself from other sleep paralysis horror movies with its sinister demonic twist. These aren’t just creepy guys in hats. Dennis Storhoi is also terrific as Bruun, playing him in the Peter Cushing tradition of doctors fighting evil supernatural forces, but with more Scandinavian reserve.

Herman Tommeraas also gives off the right bad John-Cassavetes-in-Rosemary’s Baby vibes as Robby. There is something about him that feels off, beyond his being a Millennial. However, Eili Harboe just doesn’t connect as Mona to the extent she did playing the title character in Joachim Trier’s Thelma.

Saturn Bowling

Maybe Armand (not really Jr.) would have been less violent if hockey had been his estranged father’s sport. Instead, Armand (not really Sr.) was all about hunting and bowling. Admittedly, the latter should be rather peaceful, but his illegitimate son makes it lethally dangerous when he takes over management of his late father’s late-night bowling lane in Patricia Mazuy’s Saturn Bowling, which apparently currently playing in New York (instead of opening this Friday, as previously scheduled).

Guillaume would like to keep Saturne (en français) Bowling open, but he is already plenty busy as police detective on the fast-track to advancement. His illegitimate brother Armand would be the logical choice to manage it, even though they were never close (as per their father’s wishes), but Armand must respect a few traditions. Their dad’s dog will still have the run of the place, as will his hunting buddies. Guillaume eventually agrees, because he has no other prospects, but the old cantankerous coots really rub him the wrong way.

The advantage of a nightlife spot like Saturne Bowling is it provides Armand an opportunity to hit on women. When he finally convinces one to come up to his apartment above the lanes, he beats her to death in a horrifyingly violent scene. Seriously, it is more disturbing than anything I have seen in the last year’s worth of horror movies, so consider yourself cautioned. Of course, he will do it again—and it will be Guillaume’s job to catch him.

Mazuy definitely displays an unflinching commitment to explore the dark side of human nature, but it is often so busy being dark, it neglects the work necessary to be suspenseful. When it is shocking, it is truly shocking, but the rest of the time, it is just dark and seedy. That atmosphere certainly gives the film a strong flavor, but it does not build or compound towards a worthy finish.

Heist 88, on Showtime

Contemporary caper movies clearly suggest computerization made the banking system more susceptible to hacking-savvy thieves. Yet, the truth is the greatest vulnerabilities in a security system are the spots that require human touches. Jeremy Horne is a master at exploiting those human weaknesses. In 1988, Chicago’s largest bank was on the verge of computerization, but that left just enough time for Horne to try to pull off a big score in Manhaj Huda’s Heist 88, which premieres Friday on Showtime (and Paramount+ with Showtime).

Horne (loosely inspired by the real-life Armand Moore) has already been convicted of fraud in Detroit, but before he must surrender himself, he jaunts down to Chicago for his brother’s memorial service. That night, he is super-interested to learn his nephew Marshall King, has several friends who work in the wire transfer department of a major bank, but they are all underpaid and under-appreciated. Of course, that gets Uncle Jeremy thinking.

They know the CFOs and money movers who frequently call to transfer money. Therefore, if they also know their codes (confirmed independently over the phone), they can transfer their funds. Horne just needs to arrange the right distractions to help facilitate the process. He also must maintain the trust of King and his friends, but that gets tricky when he keeps springing new accomplices on them. He does it anyway, because he wants to arrange a nice pay day for his old cronies, Buddha Ray and Bree Barnes. Plus, he will need their experience as fellow conmen.

There is a lot fun capery stuff in Heist 88. There is also an intriguing time-capsule dimension, capturing the banking industry in a time of technological transition (which banking industry employees should particularly appreciate). This was the end of an era for an old school bluff-your-way-through crook like Horne.

Unfortunately, the social commentary is often intrusive and way off target. Seriously, 1988 was a great year for economic opportunity—for everyone in America, across the board. However, screenwriter Dwayne Johnson-Cochran makes it sound like the early 1930s. It is a shame, because it interrupts some great performances.

It is always cool to watch crafty character actors like Courtney B. Vance and Keith David do their things. Heist 88 gives them both a good showcase to do exactly that, as Horne and Ray, respectively. Keesha Sharp (whom you hopefully do not recognize from Titanic 666) is also terrific as Barnes.

The Kill Room

Tom Wolfe's The Painted Word outraged the art world, because it exposed its increasingly postmodern ideas to the general population. Since then, the gallery world has become even more prone to trendy theories and irrational exuberance. Arguably, the hardest thing to believe in this satire is its success recruiting Pulp Fiction co-stars Uma Thurman and Samuel L. Jackson to star in Nicol Paone’s The Kill Room, which opens this Friday in theaters.

Patrice Capullo’s gallery was on its last legs, largely thanks to her self-destructive behavior. However, thanks to a referral from her Adderall dealer, gangster and self-proclaimed Yiddish bialy-baker Gordon Davis offers he a money laundering deal she cannot refuse. Capullo will record sales of junky paintings they supply, funneling the “clean” money back to the gang’s account, minus her cut, without arising the IRS’s suspicions, because contemporary art prices defy all conventional logic. They just need physical paintings to keep things “legal.”

That job will fall to Reggie Pitt, the gang’s reluctant hitman, who decides to paint under his unofficial nickname, “The Bag Man,” a reference to his preferred technique, asphyxiation by plastic bag. At first, Pitt considers it a chore. However, when Capullo’s intern releases news of his first big “sale” to the gallery trades, suddenly every collector wants a Bag Man original.

The premise of Kill Room is sort of like the art world variation of “Springtime for Hitler” in The Producers, except it could potentially take Capullo’s gallery to the lofty heights she always dreamed of. The problem is Davis’s “business associates” do not appreciate the sudden media attention. In fact, they hate it and fear it.

Jonathan Jacobson’s screenplay is cleverer than you would expect. The film also has the guts to make one of the villains a mysterious art-collecting Russian oligarch, who has a featured role to play in the climax.

Deliver Us, Co-Starring Alexander Siddig

They are the ultimate Cain and Abel brothers. One will be the Messiah and the other will be the Anti-Christ. Of course, the big question is who will be whom? A lapsing priest will protect them both, believing (or at least hoping) all of God’s children are born innocent in Cru Ennis & Lee Roy Kunz’s Deliver Us, which releases this Friday in theaters and on-demand.

Father Fox is one of the Vatican’s most scholarly young priests, who also has an excellent record as an exorcist. However, he intends to renounce his vows, because he has fallen in love Laura “Kusic” (the press notes did not bother to supply her surname, but that is what it sounded like), an Estonian mining heiress, who is currently battling unfounded claims of water contamination. It seems the Devil very definitely works through environmental scare-mongering.

The Vatican browbeats Father Fox into accepting one last assignment. Supposedly, it will not be an exorcism, but rather a miracle vetting. Apparently, Sister Yulia is pregnant with twins, the immaculate way, of course. Learned Cardinal Russo, whose work Father Fox frequently cited in his own scholarship, has some theories as two who her unborn sons might be. Father Saul, from the ultra-righteous secret ecclesiastical society, Vox Dei, more-or-less confirms those theories when he attempts to abort both infants. However, the subsequent sacrilege Father Fox witnesses (whether real or a vision) makes him suspect Vox Dei hopes to subvert the Church rather than defend it.

With Kusic’s help, the Father and the Cardinal try to protect Sister Yulia and her babies, once they are delivered. Of course, “Father” Saul is hot on their trail—and the Anti-Christ is apparently trying to assist him. Meanwhile, a series of freakish environmental events seemingly herald the End of Days.

Deliver Us has some decent Catholic-themed demonic horror, which will strongly resonate with Catholic faithful who are frustrated with the state of the Church in Rome. Father Saul warns us the Anti-Christ will come when people feel furthest from the Church. Those are eerily frightening words, particularly coming at a time when the Pope has turned his back on faithful shepherds, like Cardinal Jospeh Zen of Hong Kong, cutting a deal with his oppressors, the CCP, which undermines the Church’s autonomy, instead—but perhaps I digress.

However, it often feels like Ennis, Kunz, and co-screenwriter Kane Kunz try to have things both ways to maximize the scares. Maybe one of the infants is not necessarily destined for evil, until they need him to start implanting temptations and Scanners-style pain in people’s heads. This film already has so many archetypal hooks—a little less would have ended up being a little more.

Regardless, Alexander Siddig is terrific as Cardinal Russo, both at his erudite start and his apocalyptic finish. He really is an under appreciated genre character actor (and occasional romantic leading man). Co-director Lee Roy Kunz has a Jared Leto thing going on as Father Fox that mostly works for the film. In fact, if you are a fan of Leto, it should be easy to pretend you are watching him.

Gangnam Zombie, on DVD

One of the worst things about zombie outbreaks is the negative impact on property values. We’re supposed to loathe a character in this Korean zombie movie for thinking that way, but it is hard to deny her logic. The re-sale value of her mixed-use office building-upscale shopping center will plunge rather steeply in Lee Su-seong’s Gangnam Zombie, which releases Tuesday on DVD And BluRay.

It all starts with a feral cat (they really are nasty creatures). The small-time crook it infects stumbles all the way to Seoul’s Gangnam district, eventually entering a building sort of like the Deutsche Bank Center (formerly Time Warner). Likeable Hyun-seuk works there, but he isn’t getting paid by his slimy boss, who is trying to build a knock-off “Funny or Die” viral prank video channel. Business is bad, but Hyun-seuk does not want to go home to the countryside, because he carries a torch for his sexually harassed co-worker, Min-jeong.

Fortunately for all his co-workers, Hyun-seuk was an alternate for the national taekwondo team, so he can fight zombies from a safer distance using his jump-kicks. He will do his best to save everyone, even their Scrooge-like landlady, who is always complaining about poor people’s lack of manners and hygiene.

It is fitting some of Gangnam Zombie takes place in a mall, because Dawn of the Dead obviously looks like an inspiration for Lee, especially in terms of its class-conscious social commentary. Frankly, some of the landlady’s dialogue is absolutely laughable—in the wrong way, from Lee’s perspective.

Relax, I’m from the Future, Co-Starring Julian Richings

Maybe science fiction has done us a disservice, filling our heads with unnecessarily dire warnings regarding the space-time continuum and time paradoxes. Perhaps if we ever achieve the means to time-travel, we should just take the opportunity to see famous bands before they started to suck and load up on collectibles. That is the approach lunkheaded Casper takes, but there is a decent chance he might be dangerously moronic in director-editor-screenwriter Luke Higginson’s Relax, I’m from the Future, which is now playing in New York.

Naïve Casper has obviously been blessed with good luck rather than brains. When he arrives through the time-portal thingy, fate delivers him to Holly, a hard-partying underachiever, who finds his future-talk amusing. Being a failed-activist millennial, she is sufficiently inconsequential to history, allowing her to serve as Casper’s front for placing sports bets (a lot of hockey, since they are in Canada) and buying lottery tickets.

Life becomes quite enjoyably meaningless for both, at least for a while. Unbeknownst to them, Doris, an enforcer from the future stationed in the current time-period, is always on the lookout for potentially disruptive time-travelers like Casper. Given his knowledge of cataclysmic future events, Casper is fairly confident he cannot mess things up too badly. However, his obsession with Percy Sullivan, a darkly cynical cartoonist, leads to trouble. In the future, Sullivan will be a popular cult icon for fans like Casper, who cannot resist crashing his “celebrated” suicide. Perversely, all that might change when Sullivan refuses to continue after Casper’s rude interruption.

The feature-length Relax grew out of Higginson’s short, which focused on Casper fateful meeting with Sullivan. In fact, this is the point where the feature starts getting good. The first act is largely a hodge podge of Casper’s buffoonery and a lot of radically-charged whining from Holly and her fellow lesbian friends. In contrast, Casper’s dilemma as to what to do about a still-living Sullivan constitutes a rather clever and darkly comic time-travel problem, which continues to compound in increasingly outrageous ways.

The Irrational, on NBC

Dr. Alec Mercer is a behavioral psychologist, who often consults with the cops and FBI—sort of like Edward “Fitz” Fitzgerald in Cracker, but with somewhat more social grace. He could hardly have any less. Mercer still has more than his share of baggage, but it is understandable, given the tragedy he lived through. Mercer will solve fresh crimes every week, while working on the season-long (presumably) mystery of the domestic terror bombing that left him badly burned in creator Arika Mittman’s The Irrational, which premieres Monday on NBC.

Mercer’s credo is people often act irrationally, but often in a perversely predictable kind of way. He came to mild prominence through his ability to predict seemingly erratic behavior, which obviously has handy law and order applications. His incisive mind is so Cumberbatch-Sherlock-like, even his FBI Agent ex-wife, Marissa will call him in on cases. However, in the pilot, it is the mayor who requests Mercer’s assistance.

Dylan Hayes, the son of a U.S. Senator, stands accused of murdering his girlfriend and the cops are not inclined to investigate much further, because he conveniently confessed. However, Mercer suspects it is a false confession generated by suggestions (possibly planted by the real murderer) and Hayes’s persistent survivor’s guilt, as the sole survivor of an IED attack in Iraq.

It is frustrating that the only veteran’s stories Hollywood is interested in telling invariably focus on PTSD. There is more to the military experience than that, such as courage, camaraderie, sacrifice, and many days, just plain boredom. However, Caleb Ruminer’s portrayal of Hayes and Mittman’s writing display a good deal of sensitivity towards veterans.

The second episode (out of three provided for review) directly references Putin’s assassination of Alexander Litvenenko with Polonium 210, which is reasonably gutsy. In “Dead Woman Walking,” a journalist investigating a Belarusian oligarch is dosed, most likely fatally, with Polonium, but she still has time to work with Mercer to catch the killer (who might not be much of a surprise, given the limited weekly cast of characters, but decidedly does not fit the typical profile of TV villains).

The same true for the third episode, “The Barnum Effect,” in which Marissa enlists Mercer’s help diagnosing the pilot presumed responsible for a fatal plane crash. Everyone wants to write him off as a suicidal annihilator, but Mercer keeps poking holes in their assumptions.

Meanwhile, Mercer is also delving into his own murky memories of the bombing that left visibly burn scars on his face. The alleged lone bomber is coming up for parole, but Mercer and his ex both suspect it was planned by a larger cabal.  Throughout it all, he will have the assistance of his research assistants, Phoebe and Owen, who probably aren’t even making minimum wage for their efforts.

We do not know much about the two grad students yet (she has mother issues and he has difficulty expressing his emotions), but Molly Kunz and Arash DeMaxi have nice chemistry with series star Jesse L. Martin. Sometimes their vibe is a bit like the doctors doing rounds on House M.D., but far, far less caustic.

Dark Asset, Starring Byron Mann and Robert Patrick

Sometimes, "super-soldier” programs turn out great, like with Captain America and sometimes they create monsters, as in Universal Soldier. The chip implant “John Doe” received definitely follows in the latter tradition. Even though he has the latest revised software, “Doe” still goes rogue anyway in Michael Winnick’s Dark Asset, which releases today in theaters and on-demand.

The nefarious Dr. Cain hoped to show-off Cain’s augmentations to a visitor from “the agency,” but it is clear Agent Wilds has both ethical and practical reservations, even before “Doe” pulls off an incredibly violent escape. Apparently, the former Special Forces guinea pig managed to change his passcodes and Cain’s augmentations helped him do the rest.

Even though Cain’s financial backers, including the criminally bland former Senator Benson, have dispatched their early, sexier female “super-spies” to liquidate Doe, he still takes the time to chat up Jane in a hotel bar. In fact, he will tell the skeptical business traveler all the dirty secrets of Dr. Cain’s organization. Frankly, it is hard to see how he would know about so many other super-spies’ backstories, but he does. Regardless, you have to wonder why he thinks his crazy yarn will seduce the super-model looking woman. She can’t help wondering herself.

The basic premise is certainly familiar, but Winnick and co-scripter Terri Farley-Teruel try to dress it up with the pick-up line flashbacks. It is a little too cute and the twists are a bit too obvious. However, it is fun to see action genre vet Byron Mann get a starring role. He always has action cred, but it is also amusing to watch him smirk and charm his way through the courtship scenes with Helena Mattsson, playing Jane.

From the Shadows, Starring Keith David

Dr. Amara Rowan is sort of like an academic Amazing Randi, who specializes in debunking supernaturally-themed cons. Frankly, four survivors of the Hidden Wisdom cult would be thrilled if she could debunk the heck out of the horrors they barely lived through. They have seen some things and Dr. Rowan will see some too in Mike Sargent’s From the Shadows, which opens tomorrow in New York.

Before their falling out, archaeologist Dr. Joseph Cawl launched the Hidden Wisdom cult with his more scientifically-rigorous colleague, Dr. Leonard Bertram. For a while, they promoted it through late night TV commercials, like an average cheesy self-help program, but there was something sinister at its core. Supposedly, Hidden Wisdom and Cawl went the way of Heaven’s Gate and the Branch Davidians when the compound mysteriously went up in flames. However, four very scared cult-members survived and now they want to tell their story to Dr. Rowan, via online conferencing, from undisclosed locations.

Many of the survivors complain of seeing “Shadow People,” whom he audience can often spy moving furtively in corners of their video feeds. Of course, Dr. Rowan and her videographer Peter are skeptical, but they will be convinced when a hooded figure starts attacking the ex-Hidden Wisdomers, one-by-one.

Although Sargent’s budget was obviously severely constrained, he still manages to realize a respectably Lovecraftian vibe. The effects are not great, but the dark, claustrophobic locations help cover for them.

Neither Confirm Nor Deny: Project Azorian

There was a time when journalists were not inclined to take the government’s word for what constituted “disinformation.” Can you imagine what Jack Anderson would have thought about the Department of Homeland security working with social media sights to suppress news stories and opinions they didn’t approve of? Of course, because all ethical judgements are situational these days, many of the same cheerleaders for censorship will be happy Anderson broke the story of the CIA’s “Project Azorian” salvage mission. Regardless, there is no denying it was quite a story, which Philip Carter chronicles in the documentary, Neither Confirm Nor Deny, which releases tomorrow.

In 1968, the Soviet nuclear submarine K-129 (and its highly sensitive nuclear codes) sank somewhere in the Pacific (it was one of four subs that mysteriously sank that year, probably because of kaiju). In 1974, the CIA located it and hatched a Clive Cussler-worthy mission to recover it from the sea floor. Naturally, they wanted to keep their efforts secret from the Soviets, so they approached Howard Hughes to help create their cover story.

Supposedly, the CIA mission would appear to be a deep-sea mining initiative launched by Hughes Industry, which made sense because the reclusive tycoon had mining and nautical companies. He was also a little eccentric. Obviously, for the plan to work, the CIA had to maintain its secrecy, which meant keeping the operation out of the newspapers.

Perhaps the biggest, juiciest revelation in NCND is the news that CIA director William Colby supplied Watergate dirt to Sy Hersh, who agreed to kill his story on Project Azorian in return. This comes directly from Hersh himself.

Throughout the film, Carter tries to intertwine Project Azorian with the Watergate scandal, but Hersh’s horse-trading with Colby is the most significant point of intersection. Quite inconveniently for the Agency, details of the operation broke during the time of the Church Committee hearings. However, it seems unfair in retrospect to lump Azorian in with the black ops the Committee was investigating. The off-the-books operation might have technically violate international salvage laws, but you could still argue it was a case of finders-keepers.

It Lives Inside

Horror movies are inclusive. Demons of any faith or tradition can be just as deadly, regardless of one’s personal beliefs. In this case, it is a pishacha, a soul- and flesh-eating demon of Hindu lore, running amok. That the last thing Sam wants to think about is an embarrassing legend from her parents’ homeland. The Americanized high school student has no use for those old stories, until she finds herself fighting a pishacha in director-screenwriter Bishal Dutta’s It Lives Inside, which opens Friday in theaters.

Sam appreciates her father’s successful career focus and contemporary attitude, but her mother’s incessant emphasis on tradition is a constant source of angsty teen embarrassment. She also dropped her grade school bestie, Tamira because of her inability to assimilate. Unfortunately, Tamira has not been doing well lately, so their cool teacher, Joyce, hopes Sam can reach out. Instead, she is appalled to see Tamira is bedraggled and unkempt, schlepping around a ratty, stinky jar. The disturbed Tamira is such a threat to her nouveau popularity, Sam pushes her away, breaking her nasty mason jar—at which point very bad things happen.

It turns out pishacha are a bit like djinn. You can bottle them up, but they still need to be fed blood regularly, or else. Now that this one is loose, she must trap it again. The good news is Russ, the jock Sam has had her eye on, is willing to help her find Tamira. Presumably, the pishacha has her stashed somewhere, so it can feed off her, until it totally consumes her life force.

It Lives Inside is a high-quality horror production that is further distinguished by its use of Hindu legend. There are several seriously creepy sequences, but the pishacha never quite reaches the sinister heights of the scariest movie demons, like King Paimon in Hereditary or Valak in The Conjuring 2. It is more akin to the Nosferatu-like Dracula in Last Voyage of the Demeter—though certainly creepy, it won’t inspire lasting nightmares.

Dutta’s screenplay is also unvaryingly dark and serious. These kids don’t have much snarky sarcasm, but, admittedly, for a lot of grownups, that will be a heck of a recommendation. Be that as it may, Megan Suri and Gage Marsh are terrific as Sam and Russ, especially in their scenes together. They are generally smart and engaging kids, which is another highly valid basis for recommending It Lives Inside.