Effective depictions of “body horror” create the palpable sense that the science of humanity is an unavoidable curse ... A subconscious desire develops to shed the trappings of flesh as a prison for sickness, disease, and pain.  It is this fear of biology being frighteningly uncomfortable that is regrettably missing from “Errors of the Human Body.”

 “Absence” plants the seeds of taking “found footage” in potentially new and interesting directions before leaving that garden completely untended.  The film settles for tilling from the same stony soil that has already been harvested dry by better constructed and more entertaining stabs at the genre.

Writer/director Christopher MacBride’s thriller may use the “found footage” template as a launch pad, but his subject matter is a far different cry from the usual trappings of an exorcism or a haunted asylum.

Remember that classic “Saturday Night Live” sketch “Theodoric of York?” ... “Bad Milo” is that joke visualized as a full horror comedy feature, except that the small dwarf is now a demon and the stomach has been swapped for a colon.

("Gallowwalkers") is crushed under a script that generates unintended laughs when it is not busy bringing fingernails to the scalp with a confusing story and a nonsensical plot structure.

“Lost Lake” is serviceable for a low budget indie, but there is depth absent from the story and scope missing from the production that prevent the movie from being something better than merely adequate.

If “Do Not Disturb” were a partygoer attempting to engage another guest around the punchbowl, it would be a conversation one could not get out of fast enough.  “Do Not Disturb” is that insufferable variety of personality completely oblivious about just how much of a crushing bore it really is.

The other important thing to know going in is that the movie was made by a cast and crew so wet behind the ears that their heads are dunked under water.

As a story and as a “found footage” movie, “Frankenstein’s Army” leaves something to be desired. But as a spectacle of inventive insanity, “Frankenstein’s Army” is gloriously entertaining.

An enthusiast convinced that what took place at 112 Ocean Avenue indicates legitimate paranormal activity can look to the documentary and say, “see?  This guy was in the middle of the true story and he confirms that it really happened.”  While a scoffer can point to the exact same footage and reason, “see?  This guy was in the middle of the true story and he confirms that he is just another crackpot.”

Who runs the attractions at this abandoned five-ride carnival in the middle of nowhere?  The teens do, of course.  Because the smart place to be when injured and trapped in an unknown location is inside the locked cage of a salt and pepper shaker operated by an unknowledgeable 16 year old.

I would be shocked if any scene in this movie was shot more than once, because it is impossible to imagine that they had two takes to choose from and an even worse version exists somewhere ... Life is too short, even for a mediocre zombie movie.  Though being mediocre would be an improvement for “Zombie Massacre.”

To call the acting in “The Cloth” wooden would be an insult to marionettes and the lumber aisle at Home Depot ... This review can be summarized in one brief, simple sentence.  “The Cloth” is not a good film.  And frankly, that is the mildest way to put it.

 “Vanishing Waves” is a dark fairy tale of stylish eroticism that is very much a romance film using the trappings of science-fiction to develop its story ... Overall, it is difficult to not appreciate the intelligent design bursting from the film’s sights and sounds, even during those times when the story drags to the point of annoyance.

“Beneath” has its tone meter calibrated a little too far into serious territory when it would have benefitted from a slier wink of black comedy.

Even when the audience knows how a trick is done, the timing, dexterity, and showmanship on display is stunning nonetheless.

The dialogue is as basic as possible, yet the actors are unable to deliver simple lines without sounding like Ben Stein reading a phonebook.

Were it a candy bar, “No One Lives” would not exactly qualify for the satisfaction of a Snickers.  “No One Lives” has the creamy nougat of splattery shock kills and a chocolate covered coating of thin horror entertainment.  Yet it is missing the caramel texture of a layered story and the peanut clusters of uniquely memorable moments.

 “Under the Bed” ... has two crippling defects.  Not enough to put the film in a wheelchair or to require crutches, but enough to give it a very noticeable permanent limp.