While not nearly as fresh as its predecessor, this second helping of blood-splattered dystopian craziness is still a decent bit of fun.

Morbius isn’t a bad movie. It also isn’t a particularly memorable one.

If Terrence Malick ever decided to dip his toe into horror, I’m guessing it would look a lot like Stolevski’s feature-length debut You Won’t Be Alone.

I’m not going to lie and say that Screams of a Winter Night is some long, lost horror anthology classic. It isn’t. But the film has so much go-for-broke, let’s-put-on-a-show charm that it’s not a huge deal that a lot of this doesn’t end up working particularly well.

X is a gnarly, sexually provocative thriller that juxtaposes youthful upheaval against the inevitable ravages of old age, all of it showcased with tongue firmly in cheek and middle finger proudly unfurled.

Studio 666 is an unwieldy, mostly unfunny hodgepodge of tired horror conceits and winking, self-indulgent humor that ends up making next to no lasting impression whatsoever.

As stupendously staged as the gore-drenched violence may be, this new Texas Chainsaw Massacre still turned my stomach for all the wrong reasons.

Superhost is a lot of fun primarily thanks to Gracie Gillam’s effervescently larger-than-life performance overflowing in unhinged villainy.

This is one of those times where I wanted to enjoy the finished product far more than I actually did, and in some ways that makes Ditched even more disappointing than it would have been had it just been terrible from the jump.