Matt Donato

You’ll find laughs, zaniness and plenty of signature slow-motion jiggling, but it’s buried under a burdensome two-hour procedural.

The Devil Conspiracy is a high-concept religious action flick with horror influences that sells its ambitions short but still entertains despite itself.

Brad Peyton oversees a futuristic action thriller that frequently plays like a clone of other cautionary tales about AI – but those movies, shows, games, and books don’t have Peyton’s secret weapon: Jennifer Lopez. She’s able to command the screen, bicker with software programs, and sell a convincing heroine’s arc from behind a mech-suit’s windshield.

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

The Bye Bye Man is an unfathomably inept horror film; one that’s an obvious byproduct of The Babadook/It Follows brand of horror success. It is, without apology, one of the emptiest, nonsensical haunted thrillers ever to fail genre audiences.

Writers Kevin Biegel and Scotty Landes adapt Kreischer’s unbelievable viral story about robbing a train with Russian mobsters into a retrospective on the comedian’s tumultuous history with excess—a tonal misfire of fantastical absurdity clashing against emotional confessions.

True Memoirs Of An International Assassin scores a few lucky shots, but ultimately overstays its welcome.

The Cloverfield Paradox is a monster-sized misfire that feels disconnected from the franchise it’s crashing.

Between picture-in-picture viewers, pop-up ads, reality posing as unreality, and a seconds-long attention span, Baby Invasion is a Reddit thread vision board with little to offer.

Flock Of Dudes is light on both bro-bonding shenanigans and worldly drama, despite boasting such an enviable cast of comedians.

Here, genre hybridization is a losing battle, sacrificing scares and intensity in favor of corny jokes about Instagram not yet being invented.

This year's Inside remake swaps Bustillo and Maury's brutalization levels for beyond-generic thrills that are more frustrating than fierce - whatever that's worth.

Rupture is the kind of ill-conceived film that gives Michael Chiklis the campy role while keeping Peter Stormare on background duty.

Knights of the Zodiac fails to inspire enough excitement to meet the prospect of future sequels with its lackluster visual effects and rather clunky storytelling.

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

The Turning is a failed ghost story on almost every conceivable level with a third act that's flat-out unforgivable.

There’s not a single character worth caring about, and even less artistic licence to appreciate. This is a dirty, depraved love-letter to horror that’s written in a bunch of different colored crayons to mask such simple words with distracting colors.

This Is Your Death is a brilliant concept, but tonal mishandling makes for another media takedown that's all bark and no bite.

The Amityville Murders wastes historical reverence on a paint-by-numbers ghost story that relies too heavily on eyesore animated effects.

Rodriguez’s transformation is hackneyed and ham-fisted, Hill’s action lacks excitement, unnecessary comic-book panel swipes add “character” – there’s nothing noteworthy about this hunt for retribution.

Keeping Up With The Jonses plays everything so disappointingly safe.

Director Nikolaj Arcel blends dystopian weirdness and temporal hellbeasts until all that remains is an emulsified, grey gunk, which is then forced down our throats for 95 minutes. Flavor gone, identifiers eviscerated.

Odar does his best to manipulate Las Vegas’ seedy underbelly (City of Sin, after all), but so much of Sleepless feels like recycled, seen-it-before action genre gristle. The stuff you chew while hoping a little fatty goodness is left.

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

This isn’t a new breed of terror, just another neutered reboot churning all the same mainstream gears.

The Space Between Us is not without bright spots (celestial production design dazzles, Butterfield’s niceties are refreshing in today’s day and age), but it’s ultimately more a slog than serendipitous romance.

Fifty Shades Darker is a befuddling, messy erotic "thriller" that shifts tones faster than audiences can keep up with.

While The Scribbler isn't exactly in contention with the best that the comic book genre has to offer, Katie Cassidy utilizes the numerous voices in her head to create a unique hero for a bit of stylized freshness.