For anyone fascinated to see the difference ten story years makes, “Stake Land II” is a suitable sequel good for 90 minutes of melodramatic horror entertainment.

If “Zombieland” wasn’t a comedy, or “The Road” had slightly less somber drama, their similar setups would fall right in line with “Stake Land’s.”

It’s a Tin Man built from a cold frame containing the necessary limbs to be a basic movie, but missing internal guts giving it life beyond being average entertainment.

“Before I Wake” leaves an impression of being the movie the director wanted, though not necessarily what accustomed viewers expect.

If you want to revel in as much material about making “Pet Sematary” as is currently documented in film format, you really don’t need anything that “Unearthed and Untold” doesn’t have.

Watering down the title to “Hunting Grounds” makes strange sense because it speaks to how interchangeably tame the well-meaning movie is.

As far as standard cabin-in-the-woods creepshows go, “Bornless Ones” is one of the better-acted and most efficiently executed productions out there.

Imagine the pre-shower Marion Crane scenes of “Psycho” tinged with a touch of Tarantino pulp and you’re halfway to picturing the neo-noir story and style of “The Frontier.”

Figuring out that “Amityville Exorcism” is homemade horror not worth watching takes ten seconds. So why sit through the remaining 4,610?

“This is how all bad horror movies start,” says one character early in the movie, approximately 20 minutes after you’ve already said it to yourself.

2016’s “The Ouija Possession” is actually 2012’s “Jonah Lives” sneakily rereleased under a new title.

“The Snare” is such an odd blend of curious character study, inconsistent tempo, difficult themes, and Spartan aesthetics that no assessment can break it down for all audiences.

One thing “Pitchfork” doesn’t have is the thing it needs most: An irrefutable reason to watch it when so many other slashers have done it better.

The film’s final edit waves a white flag of having been worn out from so much whittling, it surrenders with an exhausted, “let’s just be done with this.”

Any drive to go straight for the jugular with a serious streak of horror/crime is constantly undermined by an urge to indulge in B-movie gimmickry.

Every drab camera setup, every monotone dialogue delivery, every hokey piece of puppetry screams, “let’s just get this over with.”

People going in blind are likely to be bewildered about how an alien invasion progresses from initial assault to Mad Max wasteland in less than 12 minutes.

The movie’s mediocrity is somewhat of an unsolvable riddle.  Neither good nor bad, “The Blackburn Asylum” simply is.

As an immediately available streaming option for an evening’s entertainment, it’s an enjoyable way to justify not getting up from the couch.

Once the movie reaches act two, anything not serving a purpose of moving the A plot to the end credits is muddled in a mixture of ideas introduced and then sprayed away.