“The Bride” is what an experimental film looks like when it’s crafted by longtime Hollywood professionals deciding to do something without a complete blueprint.

An objective perspective not drunk on cult Kool-Aid will tell you it’s a tepid, two-hour trip into exhausting dreariness.

The experience feels a lot like flipping through late-night TV at a time when loud guys in cowboy hats and blinking 1-800 numbers dominated ad breaks.

Creepy streaks keep the film’s head above water as straightforward horror regardless if the underlying context is real or fake.

It could scratch a small itch for competent cult-related chills whose low stakes don’t demand a high investment of attention.

A group of cosplayers are summoned to a hillside in Calabasas, California, to see who is the most passable LARPer, each with weird wigs and Party City props.

Maybe more eyes will notice how short the legs are on the concept of a resilient heroine unleashing whoop-ass on empty upper-class stereotypes.

“Undertone’s” atypical texture as audio-first horror that’s compact and patient makes it a divisive film where different viewers will have different experiences.

How will viewers remember the movie? There’s so little of note in “Thrash,” viewers may not remember it at all.

“Psycho Killer” is a generic copycat operating on autopilot from its opening titles all the way through to end credits.

It's reductive, yet not inaccurate, to describe the movie as two grown men excessively arguing in between bouts of wrestling with alien puppets.