Patience isn’t only a virtue. It’s also a mandatory requirement for making it all the way through “Gaia.”

“Vicious Fun” wears a “your mileage may vary” tag that hangs on how much an irreverently snarky, character-focused chamber play tickles your fright film funny bone.

A mob-focused mystery spotlighting less popular people doesn’t hold a whole lot of intrigue considering Batman exists in a wider world of wilder possibilities.

Its Goldilocks blend of low-cal porridge that’s not too wild or too mild serves easygoing snickers with a light line of lycanthropic cinnamon sprinkled on top.

Losing interest is a running theme with “Amityville Vampire.” In fact, my interest has waned so much that I don’t even feel like fin-

“Untitled Horror Movie” runs the risk of lowering your heart rate with so much quizzical boredom, your FitBit might assume you died.

“Censor” doesn’t always have the substance, but director Prano Bailey-Bond and her creative collaborators definitely supply the style.

In switching from haunted house yarns to a post-possession tale, the movie gets stuck in the slowness of a procedural investigation padded with yawn-worthy exposition.

“The Amusement Park” remains a fascinating film for fans anxious to peek at a young George A. Romero still finding his filmmaking footing.

Ignoring shaky late-stage storytelling, “Caveat” capably coughs up macabre moodiness and sinister suggestiveness like few low-budget fright films can.

The film’s unknown cast and shot-on-digital sheen give it more in common with the shagginess of “Gingerdead Man vs. Evil Bong” than with the late-night Lovecraftian allure of “Castle Freak.”

“Army of the Dead” qualifies as “big, dumb fun.” Unfortunately, it’s disproportionately heavy on two of those terms while having nearly none of the third.

“Amityville Poltergeist” is another disposable DTV’er that became an Amityville movie after the fact, meaning it has as much to do with Amityville as it does with Ypsilanti, Michigan.

Horror fans might afford “Seance’s” boilerplate boos a little more leniency when they realize it’s Simon Barrett’s feature film directorial debut.

An “I’ve been down this road before” ghost haunts “Oxygen,” holding back any ingenuity from feeling truly original or imaginative.

I equate rental prices to how much I’d pay for a drink at a bar. If I had it to do over again, I’d rather have half of a beer than 75 minutes of “Death Rink.”

As long as you have an appetite for quick, classic chills, “The Djinn” offers a modestly macabre meal you can gobble up while having dinner in the dark.

“Fried Barry” is “filthy,” and your personal proclivities for tastelessness will dictate whether that word earns the adjective “delightfully” or “despicably.”

How can I put this nicely? I don’t think I can. Bottom line, “The Lockdown Hauntings” is scatterbrained claptrap that is dull as dirt.

Even with some jagged hangnails, “Initiation” still gets a good deal of the way there as a prettily polished indie with several surprises up its sleeve.