“The Block Island Sound” plays like how a conversational Edward Burns movie might be if psychological suspense darkened that brand of homespun indie atmosphere.

“The Mortuary Collection” unfolds in a manner where the movie becomes a complete front-to-back experience designed with escalating entertainment in mind.

“The Oak Room” plays cards close to its chest, too close for those who need a little more orange for the dangled carrot of intrigue to remain enticing.

It’s a sleepy story that someone will certainly call “hauntingly beautiful,” two words which translate to “snoozefest” in more viscerally-oriented vocabularies.

“Monster Seafood Wars” serves up a delectable dinner of cool comic book conflicts, Saturday matinee mirth, and enjoyably frivolous fun.

It takes more than witches to make the movie read like it wasn’t inspired by an average afternoon of “Rawhide” and “The Rifleman” reruns on MeTV.

The belt buckle on forest-set survival/slashing setups is fixing to burst and blind horror fans in one eye from the force of its flight.

“The Columnist” nails many of the marks it aims at on the “problems with social media” dartboard. It just hits them at the widest possible margins instead of drilling the bullseye.

It looks exactly like the “Waterworld” stunt show Universal Studios puts on 10 times a day, and is about as impressive.

Anticipate epic sci-fi action and the movie’s dialogue-driven drama certainly won’t slake a thirst for thrills.

Considering Scout Taylor-Compton’s current career trajectory, maybe a manager from Hell would do better than whoever holds that job now.

It’s befuddling to see that “Abyss” boasts two new writers when it seems like it’s cribbing from the exact same script and storyboards used for “Black Water.”

Imagining “She Dies Tomorrow” as a person, it would be a wine-drunk waif spinning with outstretched arms at an outdoor arts festival due to psychedelic intoxication.

“Host” keeps it together for an undemanding amount of time certain to satisfy easygoing appetites with a snack serving of scares.

If it were a big studio production starring Chris Hemsworth, Pine, or Evans, “The Pool” would have been a ballyhooed box office smash.

“The Silencing” isn’t a cat-and-mouse thriller. It’s a connect-the-dots goose chase from Point A to Point Z, with every stop in between being a barren detour worth bupkus.

Even when Joko Anwar digs into well-trod soil, his shovel shines with the sheen of someone who is as much of a fan as he is a provocative puppeteer of skin-crawling horror.

If you ever want to convince your friends why an Airbnb getaway presents frightening prospects, show them “The Rental” and watch how fast they decide to stay home instead.

Call “Amulet” a slow burn if that helps calibrate personal perspective. I’ll call it “quiet horror.” Too quiet, in fact.

The movie’s magic lies in its knack for keeping intrigue hot on the front burner so simmering pots in the back don’t singe you with their logic-popping bubbles.