As you may have noticed, there’s been a lull in my review cycle. I dumped a ton of content in January and then hit a wall. That wall was built of terrible films that I couldn’t bring myself to review. I’m talking movies so incoherent and/or incomprehensible that I couldn’t justify dedicating a full review to. The thing with the rise of digital media is that anyone can put a movie out for the public to partake. There’s no vetting process, no content approval, or editorial oversight. There’s only each streaming app’s desperation for thumbnail fodder to fill in the gaps in their media libraries. Quantity is king and quality is hard to find. It’s a downward cycle that I believe will lead to the end of traditional studio system for better and for much worse.

But rather than deprive myself of the imagined accolades that come from posting new reviews—I decided to share with you some of the films that I suffered through in an effort to prevent the same fate for you, dear viewer.

So strap yourself in, we’re going to take a ride into the swirling, brown typhoon of the streaming toilet.

I used to idolize Tobe Hooper. He was a rebel in a time of sellouts. He created one of the most important and profitable independent horror films of all time in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and is at least partially responsible for the masterpiece known as Poltergeist. He was a chain-smoking, counter culture artist who let his films do the talking. As I got older, I read more and more books including Gunnar Hansen’s biographical Chain Saw Confidential, which tempered my enthusiasm for the director. You see, there are many behind the scenes that always said Hooper was a product of the circumstantial happenstance and the genius around him. The biggest indicator being the vocal majority who proclaim Spielberg shadow directed Poltergeist. I always thought this was BS, but in recent years I’ve begun to come around, especially after watching Mortuary.

This film is an incoherent mess obviously made to try and be a cash grab mash-up of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and the Cthulhu Mythos. Even many of the promotional posters in overseas markets included reused images from TCM. The movie’s first thirty minutes are a solid set-up for a slasher film. There’s atmosphere, menace, and all the stereotypes you would expect to lead to an enjoyable murderfest, but then things get messy. I’m assuming that the film lost a large investment and had to try and salvage something from the production, at least that’s what I hope, because the film devolves into a dumpster fire in a blink. Instead of a killer hiding in the shadows with a developed backstory we get a crude attempt at using Lovecraftian mythology. Unfortunately, no one in the production had ever read Lovecraft.

It’s sad that Hooper’s legacy is tainted by this and his final film The Djinn.

Speaking of terrible attempts at using Lovecraft, we’ve got The Last Case of August T. Harrison. I was drawn in by the many awards this film had won. Given, I didn’t notice that the film festivals it won awards at are tiny, niche events that probably don’t exist post-covid or barely existed to begin with. It’s one of the many lure tactics awful independent films used nowadays and I’m ashamed to say it worked. I will never get that 66 minutes of my life back.

This film looks like it’s shot with a 1988 RCA VHS Camcorder. With how much cheaper decent cameras are in the modern day, I have to assume this look was intentional. I guess Hipster Indie Filmmakers thing us 90’s kids have nostalgia for this look.

Guess what?

We fucking don’t.

Stop it.

We are blessed with high definition. Use it!. I could have shot this film on my iPhone and it would have been ten times better than what they did on this production. It wouldn’t have fixed to atrocious writing, lame attempt at intrigue, or wooden acting, but at least I could have avoided the tracking-button PTSD that the film inspired.

This film feels like someone watched the brilliant indie-Lovecraft film, The Resurrected, and decided to make a shitty remake that lacked everything that made that film good.

Who makes a 66 minute movie and puts in on Amazon Prime Video?

An Asshole, that’s who.

How do you make an unfunny movie with a cast that includes Adam Scott, Bridget Everett, Donald Faison, Evangeline Lily, and Clancy Brown?

Watch Little Evil and you’ll find out.

Bridget Everett is the only saving grace in this roaring inferno of mediocre filmmaking. This film is shot with the crisp production design you’d expect from a big budget Netflix production, but without any of the intellectual quality. The script would have been better if they’d just allowed Adam Scott to read a yellow pages. The only good lines must have been improvised, because the script lacks any wit or semblance of cleverness.

I’m not a cancel culture person. I believe in free speech, whether you like it or not, but…

Fuck Chris D’Elia. He’s in this film and honestly, I find it difficult to watch him in anything anymore after he was revealed as an alleged Pedo / Groomer and confirmed as a total Bell-End.

Yeah, I whipped up some British slang for ya’ll.

Deal with it.

But don’t watch this shitty excuse for a send-up of the horror genre.

This one hurts. I can’t express how much I enjoy Lupita Nyong’o as a performer. There’s few actresses that I adore at such a pure level. A large part of that is my admiration for her as a person. I’ve read multiple biographical interviews with her and the stories from her life were both heartbreaking and uplifting. She understands and respects all that she has achieved and it’s visible on the screen.

However, this movie blows.

Even with a stand-out performance by Josh Gad as the evil Blippy we all know exists. The film is just a tone deaf love letter to douchebags who leach off of their families. In the 80’s and 90’s, we had lovable losers who, no matter how much they tried, they were met with failure. In the modern day, we get millennial losers who don’t try to do anything but live in the mother’s basements or in this case, their sister’s.

Alexander England imbues the main character with his usual wooden-ness making a character that was supposedly written as charming come off as a total Delta Bravo. A better actor might have been able to salvage something from the role, but casting an actor known for being a cast-off background character of the X-Men as the lead was one of many catastrophes.

This movie is overlong, unfunny, and lacks any scares.

I have no idea who this was made for, but it wasn’t a member of humanity.

The story of Skull: The Mask is this:

A Brazilian filmmaker watched Jason Goes to Hell and decided to remake it in Brazil starring a Peruvian demon mask in place of the Voorhees poo-demon. Oh, and because it’s Brazil, they had to have a crooked, murderous police detective working with shadowy underworld figures.

Sounds like a mess, I know.

It gets worse.

Then they add in an ancient bloodline of superhuman defenders of humanity, a drunken Vatican warrior priest, and a mummified hand that points towards evil.

It sounds like a So-Bad-It’s-Good film, right?

Wrong.

This film lacks any humor or sense. There’s not even enough here to laugh at, because the film takes itself so seriously.

Just save yourself the pain and watch Jason Goes to Hell. At least JG2H is fun.

Let’s not.

This is a trash film grasping at the coattails of greats like Village of the Damned and Suicide Club.

There’s nothing to go over, because this isn’t a movie. This is a chafing session of self-flagellation that should have be lubed and done off screen.

I can only assume the committee that accepts films for IFCMidnight was told to accept anything that attempted 80’s nostalgia. Half of this films meager budget was spent on fog machines and lazer lights. I love the vaporware asthethic more than most (my bedroom is decorated top to bottom in it, don’t judge me.), but it isn’t a substitute for plot.

Please, Please, Please avoid this like an orgy at a leper colony.

Ever wondered what a SyFy Original Movie made by completely by Russians would be like?

Me Neither.

Terrible special effects, horrendous attempts at acting, and vintage Godzilla dubbing combine into a rancid visual stew.

Death Valley = Shit Valley

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