Matt Donato

Terrifier 2 rips, tears, hacks, shreds, butchers, disembowels, decapitates, devours, pulverizes, tenderizes, slices, dices, skewers — I'm missing plenty — and knock-em-out-dead eviscerates the current competition when it comes to low-budget slasher effects.

Spirit Halloween dodges the bargain bin by opening its doors to a proficient gateway horror tale that plays like Goosebumps Lite in a seasonal decoration store.

The Munsters is a wholesome labor of love that’s probably for the most diehard sitcom fans because for better and worse, Rob Zombie makes the Munsters reboot he wants to see.

Raven’s Hollow is drenched in 1800s allure as cursed mythology overtakes eastern American realism. Still, you’ve likely imagined far gnarlier nightmares based on Poe’s works than what’s delivered by these lackluster visual effects. To quoth Donato? Quite a bore.

V/H/S/99 understands the ‘90s assignment and crafts low-budget chaos that delivers a unified anthology slathered in guts, heavy on nostalgia, and with a punk-as-hell attitude.

J.D. Dillard's Sweetheart is fierce aquatic horror without any frills.

Goodnight Mommy might be passable as a standalone, but it’s impossible to recommend over the original. Matt Sobel and ​​Kyle Warren venture somewhere new that still doesn’t differentiate nearly enough for its quieter approach.

Speak No Evil is a worthwhile test of wills that’s sure to dampen anyone’s day with a superbly excruciating tale of monsters in civilian clothing.

While West’s sleazy ‘70s slasher remains one of my champion horror titles of 2022, Pearl is more like giddily deranged add-on downloadable content that makes for an unexpected bite-sized treat. Kudos to the accomplishment, and it’s an ax-swinging slice of bad-vibes hoedown kookiness, but there’s a particular substance missing that X oozes.

Tom George succeeds in telling an excitably ambiguous case within a self-deprecating whodunit satire, even when employing the easiest tricks in the manual.

The Retaliators tries to transform musical stardom into a rock n’ roll horror epic, but suffers from “too many cooks” syndrome as the end product plays disjointed and can feel like a music video demo reel.

Clerks III delivers all the inappropriate cuss-cluttered humor and pot smoke that is Kevin Smith's trademark but evolves his sentimentality beyond bong-rip wisdom. The third Clerks installment is a moving ode to working-class nobodies that amplifies Smith's touchstone sincerity above Randal's not-so-passive aggression or Jay's lit-for-days attitude.

The Harbinger is observant, relatable, scare-ya-silly horror. Andy Mitton uses ominous imagery, sorrowful atmospheres, reliable templates, and resonating paranoias to so effortlessly hit upon those feelings we all felt under lockdown: insignificance, loneliness, and worst of all, our social disappearance.

Where Josh Ruben’s Scare Me soars thanks to tension delivered through imaginative monologues, LaBute’s latest is mostly benign chatter that rambles its way to an unimpressively expected conclusion.

Margaux is younger adult horror with an edgier attitude and pops of twisted comedy, which helps distract from digital effects that look like they might actually be from 1999’s Smart House.

Barbarian is one of the wildest horror films in years from its combination of subgenres to full-throttle approach to unapologetic exploitation themes.

Its technical motions are janky and unpolished, but that doesn’t discredit Mackay’s stronger voice as a storyteller and scene composer. So Vam is a tale of intent versus execution, masking low-budget gumption with passionate narrations.

There’s something of an it-factor that Saloum possesses, though it doesn’t have the steadiest handling of entertaining distractions that relieve major plotlines along the way. Still, the way of the gun wins out for Herbulot, putting Senegalese horror hybrids on the map.

Who Invited Them pays mind to cliquish popularity games more than its home invasion peers, which becomes its booze-soaked schoolyard charm.

GoldenEra charts the rise of GoldenEye 007 in a documentary that should thrill those still holding onto their love of one of the N64’s most iconic titles.

The Invitation represents everything that makes for a middle-of-the-road vampire experience, but doesn’t deserve to be wholly written off.

Maneater proves that shark horror flicks need to be more than just a finned predator in any form and dead bodies — execution matters, especially when your animated shark looks this ugly.

Orphan: First Kill doubles down as a prequel about Esther but manages to feel so uniquely standalone thanks to some supreme storytelling swings.

It’s an odd “rock and a hard place” production about survival of the fittest mentalities that can’t help but indulge soapy relationship dramatics amidst an otherwise dire entrapment, which will probably leave most laughing and irritated at the wrong times.

Prey is inarguably the best Predator since the original. The film gets so much right, paying homage to John McTiernan’s 1987 masterwork—through cigars and direct quotes that it’ll have fans hooting—and adding Indigenous representation with real cultural strength.

The craziness of David Leitch's train never goes off the rails nor reaches top speeds but still brings us along for a smooth and stable joyride that outshines its recent American action counterparts.

Allegoria uses an anthology format to unleash the evils behind a writer’s insecurities, an actor’s doubts and a painter’s perfectionist ego, but struggles as most anthologies do to find meaning behind shorts that begin and end before any substantial climax.

Glorious might not save the world, yet it's still a wonderful way to pass the time while humanity as we know it is devoured by threats we'll never comprehend.

The Reef: Stalked is another middling mid-budget fin flick that’s tonally confused somewhere between Shark Week and Lifetime.

With shades of Get Out, Culture Shock, and The Forever Purge, American Carnage is yet another frightening-enough, albeit bogged-down, tale about how the American Dream is no longer for everyone.

There’s nothing exceptionally freaky outside one or two practical effects of bodily implications, and yet Good Madam still finds nationally significant ways to summon societal fears.

On the 3rd Day never coheres, it’s just Halloween Mad Libs trying to fake its way through an actual start-to-finish storyline.

The Long Night’s understanding of horror genre fulfillment is nonexistent, no more satisfying than rice cakes with a little red food coloring splashed on to mimic spooky decorations.

Revealer aims for a seedy, late-night Cinemax vibe and successfully tells a story about the horrors of oppressing individual expression, but never meets the fullest potential of its premise.

Shady lunatics are stuck in a lavish woodsy manor where they’re encouraged to explore their repressed issues to their most destructive ends — and that’s not even all of the devious entertainment available. It’s got storytelling hiccups along the way as Meir favors the absurdity of singular moments over and over, but that’s also part of its sharp-toothed charm. Come curious, leave bloody. That’s the path to enjoyment.

Unhuman is a good-enough breed of afterschool special horror that succeeds in championing positive messages between sloppier fights with the risen dead.

Swallowed is an LGBTQ+ thriller that trades complexity for intimacy over a drug run gone horribly wrong. It's intense and thrilling at the right moments, capitalizing on authentic body horrors.

Rob Savage’s Dashcam is the equivalent of strapping a GoPro to a Republican edgelord’s dirty diaper and throwing it into a blender.

The Bob’s Burgers Movie is a family recipe that warms the heart, griddle and soul.

Grant packs plenty into Torn Hearts’ double-barrel approach, and assures herself as a director who knows her way around a joyfully dark midnighter romp. It’s a sinister and fork-tongued tune that holds a nutty tempo, sure to delight audiences who are into hootin’ and hollerin’ at some honky-tonk horrors.

It’s a remake that lacks identity, urgency and enthusiasm—such a shame after Keith Thomas’ outstanding horror debut.

The pace of this gorgeously shot Norwegian pseudo-fable will be a roadblock for some, but give Vogt a chance. Storytelling rewards are bountiful once The Innocents executes its conflicts well above the expected maturities of players on screen.

Top Gun: Maverick is an out-of-bounds blast of afterburner fumes and thrillseeker highs that's sure to please audiences looking for a classic summer blockbuster.

The Twin builds mysterious dread rooted in paranormal possessions and possible cult activity, but its ill-serving payoff vaporizes the crippling weight of loss fastened to each character.

An under 90-minute runtime does the film a massive favor, but Stanleyville is still an overextended last-person-standing confrontation of life’s ultimate acceptance that fulfillment may not ever be achievable.

Virus: 32 is another entry into an overdone niche that gets the job done through competent storytelling with an emphasis on trauma, monster terrors and hasty pacing that sprints ahead with berserker fierceness. It’s too familiar to be outstanding, but fulfilling enough as a reliable treat.

It's a solid Friday night spookshow with solid bones and a divisive finisher — harmless horror entertainment that at least strives to be better than ordinary.

While Wyrmwood: Apocalypse might be described as a brains-off zombie flick that’s best when at its most insane, it’s certainly not braindead. Engines rev as zombies breathe toxic-colored fumes, homemade outposts defend against hungry undead outside, and horror-action excitement ramps almost with a vivid, videogame cinematography that’s escapism through extreme, baddie-brutalizing violence.

Sonic the Hedgehog 2 might momentarily lose itself to for-the-kids wackiness, which certainly leaves some plotlines frayed, but the reasons we’re here—Knuckles, Tails, Sonic, more Eggman—are all enthusiastically respected. I’m a happy Sonic fan after Fowler’s high-speed sequel.

I’m torn on Barbarians, because while the film displays sharpened technical filmmaking chops, it’s an unbalanced invasion thriller caught between its subgenre intentions.

Morbius is unspectacular in ways that waste the potential of what could be an intriguing hybrid of sinister horror and superhero thrills.

Cooper Raiff dances around complex emotions with the smoothest of steps in Cha Cha Real Smooth, sliding into the definition of feel-good filmmaking.

Truthfully, there's a shorter iteration of "Slash/Back" that I'd adore — but I still like what premiered at SXSW. You can't help but want to champion the film's trademark sweetness, shining a light on badass little girls who take on their entire community's enemies.

"Deadstream" is a cheekily chilling vlog-life satire that scores its shivers and smashes more than like buttons — I can't wait to cram this one into my Halloween movie marathons as a goofball, gross-out, grim-but-gleeful crowd pleaser.

Linoleum is a heartfelt story about making every day seem like something fantastic.

Ti West is back with a violent vengeance, slicing and dicing through likable characters that light up the screen throughout their doomed and debaucherous overnight shoot. West is operating on another level — even the slightest editing cut cranks fear factors another notch higher.

It walks a tightrope with its topics, but Williams is delicate and confident with every step — his performers following close behind, dominating the screen.

When it’s best, The Seed is covered in slop and prone to psychedelic “romance” sequences where actresses writhe under and between the creature’s endless tissue flaps. It’s obscene and artful, on a budget that proves “doing it yourself” can still be provocative.

It's rough around the edges when heavy special effects are required, yet proficient in shanty-shady tones and detectable darkness that hides secrets from one sequence to the next. It's an experience that lulls you in with hospitality and scored choral chants, plunging its stinger once you've become helpless beyond defense.

Goofball rockstars created a silly, schlocky haunted thriller with their friends, and that’s the vibe Studio 666 brings. If you’re a Foo Fighters admirer looking for a horror-comedy, you define the demographic.

Texas Chainsaw Massacre is a sloppy and gratuitous killing spree with standout deaths but a poorly written story that ruins the experience.

They Live in the Grey is a modest indie with thematic layers and evergreen mortal dread that could use two or three more editing bay passes.

There are glimpses of comparably daydreamy thrillers like Come True or The Feast that give themselves to the fantasy of mania, but A Banquet fails to grab attention like these more ambitious companions. It all builds up to a cinematic Irish exit.

Writer/director Kipp expands his short into a feature that at times struggles to elongate an otherwise poignant message, leaving other worldbuilding details behind in a way that undercuts structural integrity. I’m all for awareness, but wonky narrative stumbles aren’t ignorable.

Expressive and appropriate costume design looks the part, but the experience doesn’t fully embrace what kill-or-be-cracked-open thrills are openly promised.

Where The Witch unleashes disturbed cinematography or Lizzie swings a vicious ax, The Last Thing Mary Saw is a duller distillation of the fear-based corruption that faith can spread.

See for Me positions itself as an unfair tale of “easy target versus evil men,” but highlights its strongest material when valuing people beyond their disabilities.

Sing 2 is more of the same, which is dandy.

Ridremont succeeds in crunching bones and raising hell, all with a seasonal waft of cloves and corpses from behind a wishgiver’s crooked smile. It’s chilling, teeters between moral stances and is a hellish-jolly greeting that should please horror fans in the mood for merriness gone malevolent.

Everything I’ve been asking for from a Resident Evil movie? Resident Evil: Welcome To Raccoon City accomplishes.

Gaia is a dazzling bio-horror excursion.

Submerged is a whole mess of tension primed to leave viewers in an anxiety-induced pile of helplessness, which means it does its job pretty damn well.

12 Hour Shift never takes itself seriously enough to make the calamity that ensues anything more than “dumb fun,” and I mean that positively.

Boyz In The Wood is the hippest, wildest, most energetic genre blowout to come from the UK since Attack The Block.

The Pool is a bonkers blast from beginning to end. Each wave of misfortune crashes down harder than the last, pummeling a walled-in main character with sadistic spite.

The Old Guard has everything you could want from a Netflix actioner. Combat situations get your adrenaline pumping, and it’s rather quick to the draw. Gina Prince-Bythewood establishes a world worth investment thanks to characters who develop farther than just another team of renegade badasses.

You Should Have Left is a perfect example of how "forgettable" horror cinema is somehow more tedious than something that goes out in a blaze of failed ambition.