Leaning into its inherent silliness might have allowed “Frogman” to come up out of the B-movie basement it belongs in.

Whatever “Madame Web” was supposed to be once upon a time could only be better than the hodgepodge of hokum this dippy disaster is.

What if the overdone horror trope of a child’s imaginary friend turning out to be an evil entity was needlessly stretched into a 100-minute feature?

Everything comes down to whether you can become enmeshed in the minor mystery and how much of an effect the moderately macabre mood has on you.

As much as I wanted to see "Lisa Frankenstein” slam it out of the park, the movie only taps a squibber through the infield on this swing.

“The Woman” chews on challenging commentary about toxic masculinity and antiquated gender roles through a story that’s bitter, tense, and brutal.

The thin narrative is nothing more than a setup for slaughter as “Offspring” becomes a canvas for creating a nihilistic horror show of savage brutality.

It’s funny that the original poster proclaims “Only in Theaters” when everything about “I.S.S.” screams “straight-to-streaming” from the get-go.

It’s not a meal on its own. It’s a low-calorie dessert topping for diehards who have already feasted plentifully on Dario Argento’s filmography.

Sometimes, dead is better. And sometimes, mediocrity is fine, so viewers might want to adjust their anticipation accordingly.

I hope the horror trivia hosts don’t ever test my memory of this mid movie, otherwise I’ll be turning in a blank piece of paper.

“Destroy All Neighbors” benefits from a precise calibration of a viewer’s mindset beforehand, preferably influenced by that person’s vice of choice.

Slow and steady may win the race, but it takes the teeth out of the movie’s mouth, and the film can’t have any bite with soft gums alone.

If anyone’s enjoyment of “Thanksgiving” hinges on the iffy whodunit, they’ll miss out on the murderous merriment that is really the movie’s main course.

“No One Will Save You” is a widely praised frightener that’s cleverly crafted yet not necessarily hot enough to heat everyone’s cup of tea.

Drink up the movie like a light Christmas cocktail spiking its horror highball with jamon iberico-washed bourbon for just a slight hint of ham.

Despite my personal connections, all I really have to say about “Five Nights at Freddy’s” is “eh, whatever” like I would any other ordinary horror film.

Mass-market fright films built for mainstream audiences are made to be marketable more than they’re made to be memorable.