Having to see longtime favorites drowning so deep in the gutter is like having to visit a cancer-stricken loved one dying in a soiled deathbed.

“Krampus Origins” continues the seasonal tradition of putting another loosely Krampus-related lump of coal in indie horror’s stocking.

“Terrified” simply charges in and goes straight to work with a lean and mean approach to classic paranormal activity chills.

Serving the minor morsel of mystery as a main meal without accompanying appetizers of intrigue leaves viewers desperate for reasons to remain invested in the outcome.

An arthouse skin applied over upsetting images and ideas brews a niche tea poised to burn some tongues while pleasing other palates.

“American Nightmares” essentially operates as “Tales from the Hood 3.” What it doesn’t have is “Hood’s” wry edge of wit or professionally sharpened appearance.

“Suspiria” emerges as the absolute best kind of remake in that it functions as a complementary companion, not a supplanting surrogate.

“Creepshow” is the closest any motion picture has ever come to accurately capturing a comic book in feature film form.

If it starred a couple of moonlighting WB flavors of the season, and maybe threw in a Creed single, the film would have its own Scream Factory Collector’s Edition by now.

Always take a chance on expanding exposure to horror stories from around the globe. You never know when you might find a terrifying treasure as ghoulishly golden as “Tumbbad.”

“Cucuy: The Boogeyman” serves a simple purpose as feature film filler that puts the basic in basic cable.

Early exposition often plays like deleted material from “The Sopranos” featuring incidental actors too campy to make the final cut.

A no muss, no fuss approach to slasher storytelling makes “Halloween” probably the second best film in the saga.

“Head Count” needs a more forceful personality to push it over the edge of being average, and further into the realm of being bold.

Between the boilerplate fiction and carelessly cut corners, “Thriller” could quite possibly be the worst movie to ever bear the Blumhouse banner.

“Housewife” contains “good” and “bad” bits, adding up to an overall hodge-podge that’s neither and both at the same time.

No matter what you think you see coming, “Knuckleball” still has armfuls of suspenseful surprises in store.

The dark aura of “The Dead Center” would pair terrifically with the supernatural suspense of “The Autopsy of Jane Doe” and the slasher thrills of “The Corpse of Anna Fritz.”

“Hell House LLC II” plays like a nickel-and-dime rush job scrabbling to find a story in the editing room instead of having clearly focused goals in mind.

“Ride” coasts on cruise control towards an easy recommendation for Will Brill’s performance alone. Then the conveyor belt of contrivances creates a pileup demanding to drag down the grade.