“The End of Oak Street” pays homage to an era when Hollywood wasn’t afraid to make big movies with cyborg cops, intergalactic soldiers, and colossal creatures.

The movie is something to sip patiently out of a porcelain cup, not 64 ounces of soda to gulp down with popcorn spilling out of an overpriced novelty bucket.

“Backrooms” brings out the buried dread of being unconsciously trapped in an oppressive environment that slowly melts a mind into compliant complacency.

It’s a flashy heap of pure camp from beginning to end, made even more amusing because the movie doesn’t exhibit the self-awareness to realize it.

“Haunt” reminds me of a Minor League rehab game for a ballplayer recovering from an injury in that it reads like Beck and Woods wrote it to shake off rust after a bout of writer’s block.

“The Devil’s Doorway” has enough meat on its bones to earn a leg up on “The Devil Inside,” but not enough intrigue to bump past the chills of “The Last Exorcism.”

The film features barely a hint of hilarity in spite of its premise, going instead for a somewhat stifling style of artily brooding bleakness.

You immediately know you’re in for a wild ride through nostalgia and nightmares like only Casper Kelly can conjure.

"Slither” comes about as close as any contemporary genre film can to capturing the feel of a 1950s Saturday matinee monster movie.