Typical though its subdued spooks may be, “The Offering” serves them up with elegantly unsettling flair.

I walked away completely satisfied by the chocolate coating of “Savageland’s” impressive execution, but underwhelmed by the comparatively plain nougat at the story’s center.

It exists to be a standard schlocker with the right bite of B-movie nuttiness for making easily frightened dates shriek and their bemused companions smirk.

Maybe it’s fitting that Will is a mild-mannered man since “Sorry About the Demon” is a mild-mannered movie occupying a comparatively safer space among horror-comedies.

A pointless piece of nonlinear nonsense, “Skinamarink” is a banal B-movie of boring B-roll that’s as drearily dull as any film can get.

Mature themes and a quality cast might win more enthusiastic “mehs” from some audiences, although others are more likely to tune out to the tepidness.

I imagine if the slim script were printed out on paper, there’d be so few pages that the short stack would seemingly disappear when turned sideways.

“Scare Package II: Rad Chad’s Revenge” calls the first film’s ante rather than really trying to up it, resulting in a “more of the same” mood of mirth.

“Lullaby” presents a package of intriguing Jewish folklore on the outside, but inside the foil wrapper sits a bar of plain nougat coated in cliched chocolate.

“Prey for the Devil” puts the “O” in “boring” by ensuring uncontrollable yawns spend 90 minutes making that shape.

You might think the film was made in as little as eight hours, since it’s about as go-through-the-motions generic as a slapped-together slasher can get.

When “The Fireplace” burns a fully bonkers blaze with crazy kills and snicker-inducing surprises, there’s a fair bit of humorous heat to be felt.

If you’ve seen a Joe Begos movie before, then I don’t have to tell you what kind of gunk-spattered neon nightmare he has in store.

“The Harbinger” uses a mold of quarantine-related phobias, but its clay really comes from the worry of wondering what impact, if any, we leave on the world.

“A Wounded Fawn” is very much a movie where mood will directly determine which way your thumb points when it’s all said and done.

The upholstery-themed insanity of “Killer Sofa” will have company for the holidays now that the Christmas-themed kookiness of “The Killing Tree” has announced, “Hold my egg nog.”

More than anything, “Halloween: Resurrection” fails to satisfy franchise fans because it doesn’t resemble “Halloween” in any meaningful way.

Its uniquely weird flavor would have hit my tongue even harder if I didn’t have “X’s” plain taste already in my mouth beforehand.

Any discussion about “Smile” between two people who’ve seen it must include one of them asking, “Can you imagine being at that birthday party?”

Cherie gets tied to so many tropes in such a short period of time that “Run Sweetheart Run” floats away into absurdist overkill territory almost immediately.