Can we finally agree that whenever B-movie idols headline DTV indie horror, those projects usually turn into throwaway time-wasters?

“Z” sneaks the right amount of redirect up its sleeve to swerve into a weirdly unsettling last act that pays off the mystery with creepy chills.

It’s another moldy potato in Netflix’s overflowing pit of expired produce that wasn’t fresh to begin with.

Starting on a played-out trope fires a flare to signal “Dreamkatcher” will be about as by-the-book basic as room temperature thrillers can get.

Frankly, “Porno” is surprisingly tame, and that’s a word that has no business being associated with a film featuring multiple instances of testicular trauma.

You’re going to be disappointed if you expect “Witches in the Woods” to actually have witches in its woods. Then again, you’ll probably be underwhelmed no matter what.

Suspension of disbelief becomes almost entirely dependent on how much imagination a viewer is willing to devote to make up for what’s missing, which is quite a bit.

How do you not fall in love with a movie whose opening logo animation features Scorpion strangling Daffy Duck while gloriously growling, “get over here!”

Full Moon thinks so little of its audience that they’ll dump sh*t on our TV screens and try to convince us it’s chocolate.

The next time a project like this comes Scout Taylor-Compton’s way, she ought to stop convincing herself she can still do them and start wondering why she keeps saying yes.

Anyone who itches at the sight of slithers beneath the skin or inside an eyeball will fully flinch at several shocking shots of bloody body horror.

While Sarah Winchester constructed her mansion according to whims, risks, and otherworldly influences, “Winchester” builds itself from a black-and-white haunted house horror blueprint.

Unverified ambition turns “Gretel and Hansel” into a film whose obsessive artfulness accentuates storytelling almost as much as it gets in the way of aesthetic appeal.

This franchise can safely sleep with the Mexican tetra fishes at this point and no one will bother looking for the body.

Vin Diesel once again gives his charcoal growl and stoic swagger to another interchangeable tough guy facing off against indistinct bad guys.

I haven’t made up my mind whether “Vivarium” is a timely “Twilight Zone” tale for a post-coronavirus climate or if it’s insultingly tone deaf given the state of the world.

Divorced from exploratory imagery paralleling Selah’s slowly unfolding epiphany, a tangible tale you can reach out and touch becomes harder to find.

The movie douses itself in chilling commentary on capitalist culture, then lights a frightening match using visceral violence that shocks and awes in equal measure.

“Hunter’s Moon” has more in common with a slow-moving yawner based around an orange grove than a horror-heavy monster movie akin to “The Howling.”

If Debbie Downer were a horror movie instead of a Saturday Night Live skit, she would be “The Grudge.”