Matt Donato

Stream meanders, spending too much time saying so little. Quirks aren’t explained, we’re plopped into a scheme without much catchup, and the entire experience is bloated beyond reason. There’s a tighter edit of Stream somewhere, but it ain’t this version, much to my disappointment.

The Strangers: Prey At Night is a feature-length homage to Carpenter's best, and albeit familiar in structure, Johannes Roberts' execution strikes with brute ferocity.

Don't Kill It is some DIY insanity that leaves more scattered limbs than an overturned Halloween decoration truck.

Belktibia's feature debut comes with compelling sequences as a mother fights against what seems like the entire world, but murky motivations hold one back from getting fully emotionally invested.

Phantasm: Ravager gets by on the power of nostalgia and franchise completion, but is a bit rough around the edges even when compared to other Phantasm films.

Life toes a line between underwhelming and just-good-enough, but performances help elevate an otherwise generic sci-fi clone with nothing new to add.

While Snatched stars big names in Schumer and Hawn, the ones you'll be remembering are Cusack, Meloni and Barinholtz.

The horrors of childbirth become entangled in a demonic subplot as Huesera fits neatly into the list of chilling pregnancy horror tales, but doesn’t add much new to it.

Mr. Crocket is a bloody good time that takes all your favorite childhood television shows and gives them a hellish makeover.

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.

Attack Of The Lederhosen Zombies doesn't quite live up to its eye-catching name, but still offers enough undead snowboarding mayhem worth a horror laugh.

Wildling may swerve last-minute into a less dense finale, but Bel Powley's performance is worth this fierce and untamed coming-of-self arc that's so exquisitely female-centered.

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.

Fantastic Beasts is both a slice of magical monster mayhem and severely underwritten storytelling, landing somewhere between “pretty passable” and “zany fun” – but certainly nothing fantastic.

Performances are the spectacle, and both actors do a tremendous job translating the worst feeling any parent can experience. It all depends on your patience for slow-burn horrors, and if there's enough nightmare fuel to stay along for the ride.

Ang Lee’s depiction of life after war (or on leave) is a respectful one not without derivative roadbumps, but honest in appeal.

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.

Captain Marvel is a recorded mixtape of familiar MCU beats that sets Carol Danvers up for success, but as a period standalone, struggles to be anything we haven't yet seen from superhero cinema.

As the word “m#th&rf$ck*r” loses meaning, you can’t help but appreciate a wholly predictable – yet unapologetically confident – action goof that’s far funnier than it should be.

The magic here is in underground experiences and questionable decision making, all twisted like junky copper wiring that’s unraveled into something more useful.

My Best Friend’s Exorcism is gateway horror that puts storytelling above terror. It’s steady on its 1980s teenage-girl friendship drama, but other elements around the messaging stumble.

The Outwaters is found-footage fearlessness that needs to be seen to be believed, but will be met by only the most divisive of reactions.

Role Play hardly spices up the subgenre with its saucy date-night games, never as action-packed as Mr. & Mrs. Smith or as sweetly sincere as the rom-com classics that inspire this undercover tale about finding that special someone worth killing over.

Screenwriter Scott Teems reflects on Leigh Whannell and James Wan’s Insidious franchise by showing the Lamberts after a decade’s worth of otherworldly traumatic repression, which disappointingly gets away from what’s otherwise made this series so sinisterly supernatural.

Sting is sweet, silly and savage in sectioned bursts, but fails to pull everything into an intricately woven web of creepy-crawly terrors.

Too much of a good thing becomes John Ross’ curse, as Grimcutty renders his demonic scowl impotent after the umpteenth close-up. Stick your landing, not your opening—Grimcutty works itself backward into a forgettable cyber-folktale fate.

Fist Fight suffocates a genuine script with easy, intro-level juvenility.

Gretel & Hansel is a full course meal when it comes to cinematography and production design, but the sleepy, hollow narrative pacing is just too stogy to overcome.