Kazakh Scary Tales, on Klassiki

Which would be harder for an honest cop to deal with, Kantas’s corrupt provincial government, or the infant-devouring Albasty, who is sort of like the Kazakh equivalent of La Llorona? The question is almost academic to Birzhan, because he must contend with both. Frankly, his honesty is debatable, but he is still more justice-minded than his new colleagues in director-screenwriter Adilkhan Yerzhanov’s Kazakh Scary Tales, which premieres tomorrow on Klassiki.

Birzhan was just transferred to Kantas—and he is keenly aware it was not meant as a promotion. Evidently, Birzhan previously made waves by trying to prosecute criminals. His new boss just wants his officers to close cases, not solve them. However, the shocking circumstances of Birzhan’s first case are hard to ignore.

Apparently, several mothers and their infants were murdered in a spectacularly gory manner at the local maternity hospital, overseen by Birzhan’s namesake. Everybody wants to rubber stamp the incident as some sort of misadventure, but these things don’t just happen. When Birzhan discovers the grotesque graveyard for stillborn and aborted babies on the fringes of hospital grounds, the inspector really digs in.

Since his fellow cops will not help, Birzhan assembles a not entirely voluntary kitchen cabinet, consisting of Sara, a dodgy fortune-teller with genuine but unreliable psychic powers of touch, and Ulmes, the local foul-mouthed pathologist. The truth is pretty horrifying and it might just consume Birzhan, in more ways than one.

Evidently, Kazakh Scary Tales was originally conceived and released as a streaming series, but it was re-edited into a feature for the international market. Frankly, aside from one long flashback detour, the resulting film rarely feels episodic. In fact, it builds nicely towards its legitimately dramatic climax.

Granted, when the audience finally sees the Albasty, it isn’t exactly believable, but the over-the-top insanity of its appearance still definitely counts for something. However, most of the film is distinguished by its quietly eerie atmosphere.

Joko Anwar’s Ghost in the Cell

Apparently, Norman Vincent Peale was right. Positive thinking will keep you alive in this Indonesian prison. At least it will keep prisoners safe from the ghost hunting people with negative auras. Of course, it is hard to maintain that positive energy, when the various prison gangs attack their fellow inmates, for conventional criminal reasons. Regardless, Anggoro and his friends are not getting released anytime soon, so they must survive as best they can in director-screenwriter-editor Joko Anwar’s Ghost in the Cell, which releases tomorrow on digital VOD.

Dimas’s editor was just about to water-down his expose on political corruption, environmental despoilation, and a series of bizarre ritualistic murders, but the ghost strung him up on his ceiling fan before he could proceed. Unfortunately, Dimas was convicted of the murder. Of course, it didn’t make any sense, but as the characters constantly remind each other: “this is Indonesia.”

Once inside, the corrupt Warden agrees to arrange Dimas’s murder, by placing him with Tokek, the prison’s worst psychopath. Yet, the next day, the would-be assassin is impaled on a showerhead. After a few more gruesome murders, Six, one of Anggoro’s mates, reveals he can predict who dies next because he can see auras. The previous victims always had the worst auras in prison, reflecting either extreme rage or despair. That means they must keep their auras positive to survive, either through prayer or “artistic” endeavor like dance. Of course, that becomes extremely inconvenient whenever rival gangs launch an attack.

Honestly, it is amazing that Ghost in the Cell exists. First of all, it is a horror comedy that is actually funny, which certainly sets it apart. It also savagely skewers Indonesia’s justice system. Yet, even more daringly, it presents Islamic faith in a way that is not disrespectful (at least not from a Western perspective), but still conspicuously enmeshed in the film’s outrageous comedy. It is not irreverent, per se, but it sure isn’t reverent either.

At times, it is also spectacularly gory. Even the serial killer in Se7en would consider the ghost’s crime scenes somewhat excessive. Regardless, despite the fearless physical humor, Ghost in the Cell is consistently tense and scary, because it taps into the realities of its setting. No matter what happens, Anggoro and his block-mates are stuck inside, with the angry ghost.

Crawlers: More Spiders

Serena's building is under quarantine, but it isn’t Covid. The CDC analog even wrapped it in plastic and cordoned it off, like in [REC] 2, but not because of zombies. Instead, killer spiders are hunting the residents, but this isn’t Kiah Roache-Turner’s Sting, because … let me get back to you on that one. Regardless, the spiders are biting and swarming in Angel Gomez Hernandez’s Crawlers, which is now playing in theaters.

Paradiso Palms was already falling apart even before the spiders wreak their havoc. Rossmore, a landlord presumably created by Mamdani’s Ministry of Propaganda won’t pay for proper upkeep. Instead, he tells Serena to YouTube cheap fixes. Unfortunately, an entomology professor accidentally brought a specimen from the field into the building—and quickly dies soon thereafter.

Initially, his discolored corpse makes the “IDC” assume the building might be experiencing a viral outbreak, so they quarantine hard. However, Serena learns the truth, but she and her residents are still stuck inside, cut off from the outside world. Frankly, her rude, ungrateful neighbors probably won’t be much help, except maybe the dominatrix, because she has “gear.”

So, clearly, Crawlers is nothing like Sting. In Roache-Taylor’s movie, the juvenile protagonist’s stepfather is a frustrated comic book artist, who reluctantly accepted a super position in a building that will be terrorized by the alien spider she secretly adopted. It all culminates with a scene involving the complex’s trash compactor. In stark contrast, Crawlers follows Serena, a frustrated musician, who reluctantly accepted a super position in a building that will be terrorized by a swarm of exotic spiders. Eventually, the complex’s trash chute will play a pivotal role in the third act. Honestly, the two films could not be any more radically dissimilar.

However, in a rare area of overlap, both films feature entertainingly employ gory, goey practical effects. In the case of Crawlers, they are augmented with some CGI, particularly for the swarming behavior, which looks decent.

Wuthering Heights: House of the Damned

Emily Bronte’s great novel is widely considered a gothic romance, but most movie adaptations have emphasized the latter over the former. Yet, the actual text is much more gothic than romantic. This film swings the pendulum about as far as it goes in the gothic direction. In the recent tradition of horror movies inspired by Pinocchio and other public domain characters, Heathcliff and Catherine get similar treatment in Rebecca J. Matthews’ Wuthering Heights: House of the Damned, which releases today on VOD.

Just like the “source novel,” House of the Damned starts with the new tenant at the Grange, Mr. Lockwood, paying a social call on his landlord at Wuthering Heights. However, instead of appreciating the friendly gesture, Heathcliff is rather put out by his presence. Nevertheless, a sudden storm forces Lockwood to spend the night in a guest room, where he finds and reads Catherine Earnshaw’s diary.

Of course, she and Heathcliff, the orphan who became her father’s ward, were deeply in love, but in an unhealthy way. Regardless, it was not meant to be. She married the older Edgar Linton instead and it ended in tears—especially in this film. Later, Lockwood’s housekeeper Nelly fills in more of the blanks. However, in this version, every natural death is actually quite unnatural. Something is rotten in Wuthering Heights—and whatever it is, it makes Lockwood gravely ill during his second, unwelcome visit.

Screenwriter Liana Failla quite cleverly follows the outline of Bronte’s novel, while incorporating gory demises for most of the characters. Unlike many of the recent killer Popeyes and Steamboat Willies, House of the Damned was not conceived as a quick and dirty exploitation knockoff. Failla and Matthews developed a real strategy for transforming Bronte’s novel into a horror film.

Unfortunately, they were working with a budget that was probably less than the average vintage Hammer horror film, not adjusting for inflation. Those financial constraints sometimes show on-screen. Yet, some fans will still appreciate the lurid retro gothic atmosphere.

Hallowarrior, on Shudder

It's the post-apocalyptic end times, Charlie Brown! That means the Great Pumpkin will never come again. Halloween used to be just-plain-old “Pumpkin’s” favorite day of the year. Now, it is a particularly painful reminder of her dead family. Frankly, she is starting to crack, but Pumpkin is still healthier than the trick-or-treaters who visit in director-screenwriter Ben Sottak’s Hallowarrior, which premieres Friday on Shudder.

Sottak hints that the gasmask Pumpkin wore as part of her last Halloween costume might have saved her life. Regardless, all she has left of her family are the home movies that are dragging her deeper into depression. Honestly, it is disturbing to see a pre-teen her age considering suicide. Nevertheless, she decorates for Halloween again, as if performing a solemn ritual. However, her decorations have become especially gross, reflecting her deteriorating state of mind. And then she finds three people rummaging through her house.

Thalia, the leader, tries to project cool motherly vibes, but there is something off about her. Royce is clearly just a thug, while teenaged Wendy truly does not want to be there. Obviously, they are bad news, but they are the first people Pumpkin has talked to in years, so she tries to ignore her intuition. Never do that.

Essentially, Hallowarrior is like a cross between The Road and Halloween. Thalia is as bad as we suspect, if not worse, and more of her cannibal freaks are waiting outside. However, their minds have diminished from long-term drug use, while Pumpkin has homefield advantage, so fair fight.

Hallowarrior is so gritty and grubby, you will want to take a shower and a shot of penicillin after watching it. The sleazy, throwback grindhouse vibe is something viewers will either love or hate. Regardless, for most mere mortals, the icky predatory themes are hard to embrace. There are moments of fun, when Hallowarrior could pass for Home Alone’s evil cousin, but in general, the tone could hardly get any grimmer. Or dimmer. Many Dogme 95 are more brightly lit than Hallowarrior.

Infirmary, on Shudder

In the horror genre, ever since Poe published “The System of Dr. Tarr and Prof. Fether,” just about every shrink working in an asylum loses their minds, like it is a predictable occupational hazard. Apparently, something like that happened at Wilshire Infirmary. It has been closed for years, but it still employees a skeleton staff, primarily consisting of security guards—or at least it did, until the events of this film. Luckless Edward Yoon’s first night will be a rough one in Nicholas Pineda’s found footage horror film, Infirmary, which premieres today on Shudder.

Ms. Ambrosia Downey hired Yoon believing he was a veteran, but his reluctance to fill out her VA paperwork immediately causes viewers to suspect a case of stolen valor. If so, better Yoon work in Wilshire, rather than a real hero. For one thing, his supervisor will be Lester Wooley, a bitter ex-cop, who has some rather mean-spirited hazing up his sleeve. There will also be junkie intruders hoping to find drugs, or possibly something more sinister.

True to found footage conventions, viewers entirely watch the drama unfold either through the extensive security cameras or the security guards’ bodycams. For a long-abandoned institution, their surveillance gear is first-rate. Of course, that is super-helpful for cobbling together a found footage movie.

Frustratingly, the full first half of the movie moves along slow as molasses, because it is dominated by Wooley blowhard bullying, with only the occasional hint of something more evil afoot. Yet, when Pineda starts teasing the Wilshire’s sinister backstory, the film starts to intrigue. Frankly, even though Infirmary clocks in just shy of 90 minutes, it feels like the opening episode of a much bigger story.

Family, Starring Ruth Wilson

If you thought your mother could be scary when she was angry, wait until you see Johanna’s mom, Naomi, in full rage. She goes way beyond “because I said so” and all those other parental fall-backs. However, it might not really Naomi. Johanna suspects an evil spirit could be possessing her. It might sometimes possess her dying father too in director-screenwriter Benjamin Finkel’s grim but intense Family, which releases this Friday in theaters and on VOD.

For several years, Naomi’s father Harry has been slowly but steadily losing his battle with an unspecified terminal illness. During that time, his health crisis has defined their family’s existence. They have recently moved back to her mother’s former home to be closer to better doctors. It also means Johanna finally meets her grandfather, Rabbi Samuel, who had a falling out with her mother, which he now deeply regrets.

In sort of an exercise in magical thinking, Johanna latched on to the idea that her birdhouse can house good spirits that will protect her father. Naomi continually discourages what she considers delusional fantasies. Nonetheless, Johanna performs her ritual call to good spirits the night they move in. Unfortunately, she soon suspects an evil spirit answered her summons instead.

Soon, booth her parents go through spells of terrifying out-of-character behavior. Concurrently, Harry’s condition quickly deteriorates. Consequently, Johanna both fears that he could die soon and that he, or more likely her mother, might kill her while under the spirit’s influence.

Obviously, Finkel uses Johanna’s malevolent spirit as a metaphor for the anxiety of long-term catastrophic family illness. Indeed, it was directly inspired by his own childhood experiences. The allegorical aspect is always inescapable. Yet, it is important to stress Finkel still takes care of his horror genre business. There are some very creepy, nerve-jangling scenes.

As it happens, many of them involve Ruth Wilson. Frankly, she probably outdoes her bravura portrayal of Alice Morgan, the chilling sociopath in Luther. Seriously, she has moments that compare favorably to Linda Blair in the original Exorcist.

Cregger’s Resident Evil (2026)

This franchise is the main reason the Hollywood knows anything about survival horror games. It was such a bestselling phenomenon among gamers, the Capcom software company hired George A. Romero to direct a commercial. They should have hired him for the films too, but they didn’t. Nevertheless, the Paul W.S. Anderson movies were solidly successful. Frankly, they look even better compared to the 2021 reboot and the 2022 streaming series, which is probably the most despised show Netflix ever produced. Fortunately, the rights managers finally found a filmmaker who gets the franchise. Although it avoids directly incorporating any of the video game story arcs (unlike previous films), the aesthetics and energy of director-co-screenwriter Zach Cregger’s Resident Evil (2026) will appeal to fans when it opens tomorrow in theaters.

Poor Bryan is a total loser working as a medical courier. Usually, he transports organs, but savvy viewers might suspect there is something else in the cooler he agrees to deliver to Raccoon City Hospital. The job pays double, but he really just accepted it to avoid talking to his girlfriend about her surprise pregnancy.

He really should have stayed home. The weather is terrible, so he accidently hits a woman, but bizarrely, she pops back up and runs off into the woods. He is a schmuck, but he is a decent schmuck, so he follows her—through the looking glass.

Cregger’s pre-credits prologue is essentially a first act in itself. It is also a masterclass in building tension. His panning camera perfectly mimics a gamer’s field of vision, but this extended sequence is still massively eerie and unsettling to non-gaming viewers as well. Franchise fans will also appreciate the way the farmhouse he soon stumbles into gives off vibes reminiscent of the creepy mansion in the original game.

To an extent, the film loses some of its mojo when Bryan finally arrives in the urban environment of Raccoon City, but not before Paul Walter Hauser brings some much-needed comic relief as Carl, an Umbrella Corp. scientist, who inspires little confidence.

Frankly, the monsters in Cregger’s Resident Evil (2026) are better described as mutations than zombies. However, there is surely enough horde rampages to satisfy zombie fans. They will also appreciate how luckless Bryan closely tracks his dwindling supply of ammunition. The stakes are truly life-or-death, because he is so ill-prepared and constitutionally ill-equipped to handle such an apocalyptic crisis.

Burning, from Kyrgyzstan

Is it a “jinn,” or is it Kyrgyz society? Even if it is the former, the superstition and sexism Kyrgyz women like Asel face can make anything worse. The question remains, what plagues Asel? The answers vary depending on her neighbors’ perspective in Radik Eshimov’s Burning, which is now streaming on IndiePix.

Tragedy has befallen Asel and her husband Marat, so their neighbors are doing what they do best: gossiping in the Kyrgyz equivalent of the local bodega. Everyone knew there was trouble in the family, even before fire erupted in their home. They agree things had been tense for a while, but matters really came to a head when Marat’s mother Farida arrived. However, they disagree whether Farida was an instigator or an agent of moderation.

Screenwriters Aizada Amangeldy and Dastan Madalbekov use a Rashomon-style device to retell the family’ descent into madness through three very different competing narratives. However, their Rashomon is not so very Rashomon-like. The film only consists of three half-hour versions of Asel and Marat’s “truth.” Somewhat naggingly, each “storyteller” also prompts untrustworthy flashbacks of events they could not have possibly witnessed firsthand.

Nevertheless, Eshimov nicely shifts the audience’s understanding of Asel and Marat over the course of the film. Aysanat Edigeeva and Kalicha Seydalieva both contribute extraordinary mirror image performances as the good and bad Asel and Farida. They also share one scene (realized two ways) that is amazingly disgusting and largely vindicates Burning’s billing as a horror film.

Penny Lane is Dead, on Shudder

Sometimes students are popular because they are cool. As a corollary, sometimes unpopular kids are horrible people. Usually, horror movies assume the opposite, but not this one. Penny Lane is an example of the former and her creepy cousin Kat exemplifies the latter. Kat and her associates do some terrible things to Lane and her friends, as the title clearly implies, in Mia Kate Russell’s Penny Lane is Dead, which premieres tomorrow on Shudder.

It was supposed to be a final girls’ night for Lane and her two besties before they start at the universities that declined to admit Toni. At least she has the consolation of a promotion from Lane’s best friend to girlfriend, of which their third best bud, Amy, remains oblivious, due to her arrested emotional development. Much to everyone’s chagrin, Kat invites herself over too.

Kat still deeply resents Lane because of some unexplained “troubles” some years prior. Even though it was most likely all her fault, Kat still carries a grudge against her cousin, so she gives Lane a drug-laced cupcake. Then she invites over her dodgy new boyfriend Angus and his thuggish associates, Merrick and Rodowsky.

Frankly, grizzled old Merrick would like to serve as the voice of reason, but Angus constantly exercises his criminal privilege, as the son of a notorious gangster. They have an important underworld errand to run, but Angus insists on staying to torment and torture the girls, as Kat gleefully eggs him on. However, Toni is tougher than the intruders assume.

Perhaps because of licensing fees, the obvious Beatles song is never heard or referenced at any point in the film. Indeed, there is as much connection to Penny Lane the model or Penny Lane the documentary filmmaker as there is to the song or the Liverpool street. Instead, Russell’s heart is firmly planted in Australia, the birthplace of the Ozploitation films (such as Wolf Creek) that clearly inspired her latest film.

Consequently, viewers are in for a rough ride. Even by exploitation standards, Penny Lane is notably nasty and brutal. Russell tries to con the audience by grafting a veneer of gender politics onto the sadistic violence, but that is just cheap pandering to justify a barrage of cruelty, which is hard to watch.

Buddy: Barney-Inspired Horror

If you don't like Barney the blue dinosaur, then don’t watch him. Yes, he had a huge media presence in the 1990s, but so what? Why all the hate on Barney? However, at least one good thing came out of all that pointless negativity. This nasty unicorn and his sinister children’s TV show were clearly and unambiguously inspired by Barney. It is a strange and dangerous world, especially for Freddy and her fellow child “co-stars” in Casper Kelly’s Buddy, which opens this Friday in theaters.

At first, Freddy doesn’t realize anything is wrong—and she can’t remember life before Buddy’s “show.” However, she and Wade can’t help noticing Buddy is a little rough with their friend Josh, just because he doesn’t want to dance. The next thing they know, Josh is gone and Buddy’s story just doesn’t add up. Then, they witness Buddy murdering Nurse Nancy when she also starts asking questions.

This scenario slowly unfolds over the course of three full, completely bonkers “episodes.” Honestly, it is impressive to watch Kelly trusting his premise and the film’s gloriously unhinged style. It takes a good long while for the film to shift to the “real world,” but when it does, it is sort of a letdown.

Something is troubling Grace. She has a feeling of absence, even though neither her husband or their two kids notice anyone or anything missing. Nevertheless, she even calls in a psychic, who detects massive bad vibes. Soon thereafter, she sees unsettling flashes of mysterious kids’ show, featuring an ominous orange unicorn.

Buddy is a thoroughly evil film, in a subversively entertaining way. There is a twisted logic to it that makes it so compelling. Arguably, Kelly and co-screenwriter Jamie King take a minor misstep when they pull back late in the third act to give viewers a wider view of the cosmic shenanigans at work, but the sheer originality remains undeniable.

Blood Shine, Co-Starring Larry Fessenden

Brighton West ought to know better than anyone that his jerkweed behavior would make him a prime target in a horror movie, because he is a horror movie director. He goes out looking for inspiration, but finds himself the subject of an abduction horror story instead in Emily Bennett & Justin Brooks’ Blood Shine, which releases this Friday in theaters and on digital.

Perhaps the prologue does too good a job establishing Keith, a down-on-his-luck itinerant farmer worker, as an example victim, because he is exponentially more sympathetic than West, even though he is an ex-con. He had the misfortune to breakdown near Clara’s isolated farmhouse. What happened to his was extremely brutal, but the “process” will only be fully revealed when West falls into Clara’s trap.

The morally questionable filmmaker was watching her nude bathing in a forest stream. Next thing he knows, he wakens, chained up in Clara’s standalone garage. She regularly demands West cut himself, deeply. If he refuses, he gets the electric cattle prod instead. It is all part of her New Age cult’s transformation ritual, as explained by the “Leader” in the VHS tape Clara watches religiously (so to speak).

Frankly, the level of violence in Blood Shine is quite high, even by genre standards. Arguably, it is even more disturbing than usual, because it often involves involuntary self-harm. Consider yourself warned.

West should have also considered himself forewarned when he first saw Lucy poking around his Airbnb, considering she is played Toby Poser of the Adams family of horror filmmakers. Instead, he blunders around the woods, where Clara (or an accomplice?) easily captures him. West represents a change of prey for Clara. Her past attempts to complete the ritual with marginalized drifters have failed. Now she is trying with a real scumbag. However, he might have better skills to play a cat-and-mouse game with his captor.

The Ghost of Sierra de Cobre, on Movies!

If you have a ghost, who you gonna call? In 1964, you could have called Nelson Orion, but only briefly. His pilot was not picked by the network for series order. Instead, they filmed more scenes and released it as a feature, mostly in international markets. That was a shame, because Joseph Stefano’s The Ghost of Sierra de Cobre is a nifty under-the-radar horror film of the 1960s, which airs Wednesday morning on Movies! (The exclamation point is in their name.)

Orion is not a medium or a parapsychologist. He works as an architect, with a specialty in restoring old houses. As a result, he spent enough time in creepy dark mansions to realize the potential validity of ghosts. Nevertheless, he usually ends up debunking supposed hauntings. That is what happened several years ago when he investigated the allegedly haunted church of Sierra de Cobre. Instead, he determined an American school teacher was more conventionally murdered, by an overdose of a hallucinogenic drug.

It’s a small world. Orion’s latest client, Henry Mandore, just retained Paulina, a Sierra de Cobre native, as his housekeeper—because nobody else will work in the Mandore manor. According to his wife, Vivia, Mandore believes his mother has been haunting him. The Mandore matriarch was so terrified she might be buried alive, she installed a direct phoneline to her son’s room from her tomb in the Mandore family vault. Now, the Mandore heir hears that phone ringing incessantly. Logically, Orion and Ms. Mandore visit her crypt to investigate. Yes, they see a ghost, but is it her ghost?

Even if Stefano’s proposed series, Haunted, had been picked up, “The Black Telephone,” as the pilot was originally titled, still might have been Orion’s first and last case, because it was conceived as an anthology. Logically, Stefano recruited many of his colleagues from The Outer Limits, including two-time guest-star Martin Landau. Fittingly, the Psycho screenwriter also recruited several alumni of Hitchcock productions, again including Landau.

Indeed, Landau is aptly cast as the cerebral Orion, who credibly combines both skepticism and a capacity for belief. Diane Baker and Dame Judith Anderson are both terrific as the freaked-out Vivia Mandore and the freaky Paulina, who could be the housekeeper in a Daphne du Maurier gothic. Plus, Nellie Burt has appropriate Thelma Ritter vibes playing Orion’s no-nonsense, disbelieving housekeeper, Mary Finch.

Hellcat, on Shudder

Initially, Lena appears trapped in an abduction thriller, but she isn’t that lucky. The sinister truth might have something to do with the conspicuous wound on her arm. Unfortunately, she has a nasty shock or two coming in director-screenwriter Brock Bodell’s Hellcat, which premieres this Friday on Shudder.

Even by mobile home standards, the one Lena finds herself locked inside is unusually creepy. Clearly, it has been specially modified to keep passengers from leaving. Clive, the man driving in the cabin, even has it tricked out with cameras and an intercom, so he can watch and talk to his captive.

She cannot remember how she got there, but she intuitively distrusts Clive. He claims she is the victim of some sort of outbreak, so he is taking her to an infectious disease specialist. Obviously, that sounds fishy, but her black throbbing veins sure look unhealthy and her periodic bouts of pain feel considerably more so. The situation is undeniably dire, even before she realizes someone else is back there too.

Bodell has a real surprise in store for audiences that truly upends the film. (Ironically, it is somewhat similar to the twist ending of Robert Bloch’s “The Bogeyman Will Get You” short story, which was adapted as an episode of Darkroom, but the set-up and circumstances are radically different.) The upshot is Hellcat actually should be categorized in an entirely different horror genre than viewers first assume, but it would be spoilery to explain how.

Damian McCarthy’s Hokum

Ohm Bauman is a lot like Stephen King. He is a horror writer, who is a real jerk. It doesn’t take long to figure that out, especially if you are one of the employees of the Bilberry Woods Hotel, who he treats like dirt while checking it. However, there are good reasons for his bitterness. Perhaps fittingly, Bauman warms to the bartender Fiona, but the witch allegedly haunting the property will be a different matter in director-screenwriter Damian McCarthy’s Hokum, which releases this Tuesday on DVD.

Bauman is struggling with the ending to his “Conquistador” novel and with life in general, so he makes a reservation at the quaint Irish country inn where his late parents honeymooned. Sadly, his mother died during Bauman’s childhood and her death turned his father mean. He is hoping for some sort of catharsis. Of course, the stories of the Cailleach Witch do not impress him, even though it is somewhat ironic she was supposedly trapped in the honeymoon suite where his parents maybe once stayed.

Initially, Bauman had no interest in visiting the haunted suite. However, a surprise twist McCarthy springs on viewers within the first twenty-five minutes supplies solid motivation for the writer to investigate the locked and chained room.

Indeed, Bauman is in for a rough time of things. Yet, what his experiences reveal will humanize him for the audience quite considerably. McCarthy has some serious supernatural scares up his sleeve, but the added human complications make them scarier.

Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma

Nothing says the 1980s like summer camp, whether it was naughty teen comedies like Meatballs or bloody slashers like Sleepaway Camp. This movie is greatly influenced by the latter and not at all by the former. Instead, it announces it alternate sexuality, over and over and over. However, the slasher nostalgia is real. The fictional Camp Miasma franchise is due for another reboot and a former fan with indie cred like Kris Williams seems perfect for the job, but she might get a little too close to the project in director-screenwriter Jane Schoenbrun’s Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, which opens this Friday in theaters.

The studio hacks accidentally give the game away to the audience when they mandate the new Camp Miasma must be “elevated, which means woke.” Williams seems like the right choice, because her work is all about her sexuality. However, she has genuine affection for the franchise, whose history cleverly unfolds during the opening sequence. The first was a surprise smash hit, but the sequels, reboots, and cash-in merchandising inevitably produced steadily declining marginal returns. Thanks to the beauty of capitalism, the market corrected the studio’s gross mismanagement of the franchise.

To really hook the fans, Williams wants to recruit the original star, Billy Presler, or at least pick her brains. Several characters refer to her as the “Norma Desmond of horror,” because after starring as the first film’s final girl, she retired into seclusion. After finally booking a meeting, Williams is surprised to learn Presley lives in Camp Tivoli, the old campsite where the original movies were filmed.

As the night goes on, Presley convinces Williams to reveal more about herself rather than vice versa. Yet, they also seem to develop a bond and maybe even a mutual attraction. That doesn’t mean Camp Tivoli isn’t still dangerous. Presler herself suggests the contrary. She claims to believe the franchise’s psycho slasher, “Little Death” is, in some sense, “real” and wants to make a new movie.

Camp Miasma gets very meta, in mostly inventive ways. However, just like Schoenbrun’s previous film, I Saw the TV Glow, the promising premise is undermined by a disappointing third acts that dispel all the tension and suspense. With both films, Schoenbrun tries to “deconstruct” the assembled horror tropes, at the expense of the horror.

It is a shame, because Gillian Anderson delivers one of the best genre performances of the year, which deserved a better executed landing. Anderson is wonderfully flamboyant and seductive as Presley, but also weirdly worldly and grounded, at least by horror movie standards. Dylan Baker is also absolutely hilarious in a small, but pitch-perfect appearance as Jeffrey, the ultra-crass studio executive.

Dead Media: A Blast from the Late 1990s

Usually, horror movies appeal to fans’ nostalgia for the good old days of VHS video stores. This one appeals to our fond memories of the archaic format once known as a DVD. Seriously. VHS still has more personality as an object, but at least a DVD is something evil entities can work with, unlike an impersonal and intangible streaming file. In this case, all kinds of horrors were hardcoded onto a notoriously scarce DVD in director-screenwriter Joseph Scrimshaw’s Dead Media, which opens tomorrow in select theaters.

Maggie Sloke and her housemates can’t decide what movie to stream, until she scrolls over to Rita Nast’s notorious film-within-the-film, Night of the Lurchers. It was always her 90’s-loving Uncle Hep’s favorite. Hep is kind of like her Uncle Buck. Even though he is annoying (especially to her housemate and possible romantic interest, Brenda), Hep was there for her when she needed him, so she remains loyal. Naturally, she texts him and just as predictably, he rushes over with the DVD, so they can enjoy the bonus content as well.

In this case, the extras really are something, especially the easter egg Maggie finds. Suddenly, it pulls Sloke, her uncle, and her housemates into the DVD. Each door in the house now leads to either a chapter of the movie or the bonus content. Ominously, they never know what scene they will enter, because the disk is randomizing.

Fortunately, Nast, the director, can sort of explain the “rules” of the situation. She too was swept up into the DVD during the mastering process. Arguably, it was sort of her fault. During the filming, she accidentally summoned the Lurchers, a strange Scandinavian supernatural variation on the Living Dead. She managed to bind them into the DVD, but now they are all stuck inside with them, along with the actors and the characters they play.

With all the door slamming that ensues, Dead Media takes on a screwball farcical tone, which is really quite amusing. This is definitely the best horror homage to physical media since Beyond the Gates. There is gore, but it is relatively light by genre standards. Nevertheless, Scrimshaw always keeps things sufficiently creepy and unpredictable.

Faces of Death, on Shudder

It miight be the most censored film of all time. Yet, it might also be one of the “banned films” that has been least defended by ostensive civil libertarians. Arthur Spevak helps explain their reticence. The serial killer decides to remake scenes from the notorious fake mondo documentary horror movie in Daniel Goldhaber’s like-titled Faces of Death, which premieres this Friday on Shudder.

Margot Romero was once a reckless online influencer-provocateur until one of her online stunts ended in tragedy. In a soul-killing effort to atone for his sister’s death, Romero works as a content moderator for Kino, a tiktok clone that naturally discourages moderation. At first, she approves videos posted by a mysterious user, assuming they are fake. However, she grows alarmed as the gore appears increasingly realistic.

Of course, her boss dismisses her concern, because Kino and tiktok are evil. Even when she identifies missing persons in the video, the police dismiss her concerns. Noticing deliberate similarities to the original 1978 Faces of Death, Romero starts tracking the poster online. However, her digital sleuthing brings her to the attention of the killer, Spevak, who is indeed remaking Faces of Death.

Arguably, Goldhaber’s new riff-reboot is a lot like Censor and the thematically similar but vastly superior Berberian Sound Studio. It is a horror movie that hates horror movies (which is weird, considering Goldhaber’s Shining-inspired “Red Rum (Colorado)” is such a great “state” within the 50 States of Fright series). Nevertheless, Goldhaber and co-screenwriter Isa Mazzei clearly suggest horror films and rubbernecking online videos have a desensitizing effect, corroding viewers’ empathy and decency. They offer Spevak as a compelling exhibit A.

Whether you agree or not (and tiktok’s amplification of antisemitism is well documented), Goldhaber’s execution is tight and tense. True to horror movie traditions, the characters often display poor survival instincts. Yet, the malevolent vibe is always quite potent.

Lockbox (Based on the Knifepoint Horror Podcast)

It seems like Hollywood remains incapable of writing a major veteran character who does not have PTSD. Frankly, for Winthrop Benson, his military service-related PTSD arguably wasn’t as bad as his pre-service PTSD. Of course, it is all good for those that latch onto and exploit such vulnerabilities. His older cousin, Ellen Hershbergen long carried guilt over his early childhood trauma, even though she was not to blame. She might finally have the chance to help him, if she truly believes the dangers he faces in Daniel Stamm’s Lockbox, which opens this Friday in theaters.

Apparently, the producers and distributors think it is very important to trumpet Lockbox was adapted from one of the Knifepoint Horror podcast’s storylines. Whether ticket-buying consumers also consider it important remains to be seen. Regardless, Justin Yoffe’s adaptation of Soren Narnia pod-script takes a rather intriguingly roundabout approach to its introduction of its demonic elements.

After providing her late mother’s hospice care, Hershbergen moved to Pontiac in Upstate New York, for fresh start. As it happens, Benson will start a factory join the area soon, so she agrees to take him in. She is not prepared for how damaged and awkward he is, but she understands his reasons. After young Benson witnessed the death of his parents, custody was granted to his horrifically abusive uncle. Hershbergen never knew exactly what he endured, but the family guessed enough to feel deeply ashamed.

Weirdly, free-spirited hippy woman Vahna Minter also starts inviting herself over. Hershbergen wants to be neighborly, but the odd woman seems to have an unhealthy interest in the cousins. Then she finds Minter brutally murdered—and the night-walking insomnia-suffering Benson becomes the chief suspect.

The title eventually makes perfect sense, but it is better to wait for it. Until then, there will be a lot of trouble coming the cousins’ way, so Hershbergen soon learns the value of having good representation. However, a team of priests led by Father James Light will be even more helpful.

As it happens, Hershbergen was already a regular church-goer, so Lockbox is rather faith-friendly. Jed Rees brings a lot of humanity to the film, which fans of William Peter Blatty will appreciate. Indeed, faith and spiritual instruction play significant roles in the third act.

The Voices of Our Mother, on Shudder

About all the only thing Harriet spared her children was wire-hanger trauma. Indeed, the damage done while she stood by, watching disinterestedly as her husband beat her four children, has probably irreparably poisoned their relationships. Not surprisingly, when she suffers a stroke, none of them is keen to care for her. However, they soon start to suspect Harriet might have literally had the devil in her. It will be a rough family reunion in director-screenwriter Mark O’Brien’s The Voices of Our Mother, which premieres this Friday on Shudder.

Only the family matriarch, Johanna, ever provided her grandchildren any degree of protection. Yet, she always coddled Harriet, to the point of infantilizing her. When she finally dies, Harriet predictably reacts badly. At first, her doctor assumes she suffered a stroke, but tests prove she is remarkably healthy physically.

Of course, once they reluctantly take her home, Harriet starts exhibiting Reagan MacNeil like behavior. Unfortunately, the dissension between the grown children makes them especially ill-equipped to deal with the crisis. William is on the verge of bankruptcy, so he resents every potential expense. He also resents his twin sister Theresa for stealing his girlfriend, who eventually became her now deceased wife. Younger brother Martin is a hopeless drug addict, who resents his siblings for a shameful secret to be revealed later in the film.

The youngest, Annika, took nun’s vows, so she might be the best prepared for the demonic terrors, but she somewhat resents herself, for largely abandoning her family when they most needed each other. However, helpful Father Roslovic might have insight into Harriet and Johanna that will help Annika confront the evil plaguing her family.

Honestly, O’Brien’s family dysfunction might be more terrifying than his demonic horror. That’s because his mercilessly and unforgiving dialogue is so believable. Judging from this film, O’Brien might be able to remake Mommie Dearest and somehow make it work (but he’s probably much better off sticking with the horror genre).

As it happens, the film also has an unusually strong message regarding the power of faith. It is almost tempting to recommend it to the Evangelical community, but pretty much every other aspect would likely put them off. Oh well.  Regardless, it shares a very Blatty-esque perspective on the existence and nature of good and evil.