Rather than resulting in David Lynchian disorientation, “Dreamland’s” jargon juggles a bunch of jumbled pieces that make a mess more than they ever mesh.

“Becky” becomes a twisted take on “Home Alone,” if Kevin’s kooky traps resulted in brutal bloodbaths and torn body parts.

People like labeling anthologies as “mixed bags,” but the treats in this one are all coated with the same plain milk chocolate.

“The Soul Collector” doesn’t have enough heat in its beat to breathe pulsating life into its spectacular but static shell.

In the event I am responsible, even partly or incidentally, I apologize for any role I may have had in “Ouija Shark’s” birth.

The movie’s unique backdrop combines with eye-catching slices of splatter to produce an intriguing standout in undead entertainment.

“Apokolips War” isn’t much of a ‘Justice League Dark’ story at all, but rather a “dark” Justice League movie appropriating the JLD moniker.

“Body Cam” isn’t just the routine police procedural I feared it would be. It’s a routine supernatural spookshow too.

It’s a movie loaded with hijinks, heroics, humor, and a little horror that can etch ear-to-ear smiles on Scooby fans of all ages.

For tolerant types curious to taste what some unknown filmmakers are up to in the micro-indie horror space, “The Source of Shadows” provides intriguing content to chew on.

Rod Serling would appreciate “The Vast of Night’s” suspenseful smolder dripping down an Americana backdrop. More than likely, you’ll enjoy it too.

Galligan shot his sixty seconds of screen time in the same span it took to order and receive a pizza Galligan probably didn’t stick around to eat.

The movie’s main course is made from the smoke of suspense, steak of a character study, and sizzle of Sarah Bolger’s performance.

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.