Matt Donato

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

Satan's Slaves: Communion delivers another artfully accomplished and wickedly malevolent slice of Indonesian horror that returns to formula basics without sacrificing Anwar's trademarks. Maybe a bit too ambitious with its storytelling. But still righteously right-on in terms of razor-toothed horror execution.

A more pungent concoction of community terror and conjured trauma would be able to hold stronger, not disappointingly drift away like a lullaby into the wind.

The Leech is a seedy, nefarious and scrappy morality tale that excels on the backs of its big-swinging performers.

Dash will leave viewers behind based on the virtue of its obscure construction, yet should excite those seeking alternative character studies based on gig culture, second lives, and the unfaithful depths humans will plummet before telling a simple truth.

It’s a shame. Jeff Ryan’s Mean Spirited voices relevant and vile concerns about social media soullessness, but its commentary is neutered by shaky execution.

The technical merits and performance strengths are beyond competent here, but that’s before the 90-minute mark washes everything in the dullest shades of unsustained tension.

Leave tells a story about the monsters of humanity, but is shy about terrifying its audience—a tragic flaw that cuts the genre’s volume like unplugging an amplifier mid-performance.

The Black Demon barely makes a splash in a pool filled with better shark attack movies, falling victim to a small body count, a grating protagonist, and disappointing digital effects.

A lot of dreamlike logic floats through a freakish onslaught of dependably scary imagery strung together by what fits a moment versus the fluid nature of a more captivating survival scenario.

All Fun and Games is an appetizer of a movie served as the main course, lacking in creativity when it comes to turning childhood games into pure horror.

Vannicelli weaponizes therapy-speak where other titles become preachy, uses role-playing as an abusive confusion tactic, and provokes a rather alluring mindf*ck that doesn’t have nor need all the answers to captivate viewers.

There's something to be said about the way Sakamoto depicts how the newer Japanese generation is left to fight for success amongst themselves — misled by older handlers and governing bodies — but you're ultimately here for ha-has and beatdowns, and neither disappoints. If there was ever an action movie that'd slay at a teen girl sleepover, it's Baby Assassins 2.

Wake Up makes its impression like a candy bar with a razor blade at its core. It's a sweet little treat for action-horror fans that hurts so good, as long as you're in the mood for visually traumatic, hopeless vibes.

The Conference is one of the better slashers released this year if you’re in the mood to watch liars and brown-nosers get hacked, skewered and brutalized to bits, pulling overtime at the right moments.

The Soul Eater is by no means an offense to horror procedurals. Bustillo and Maury are clearly directing someone else’s script (derogatory), but they still smuggle their signature dread-shellacked brand in wherever possible.

Lazareth is sluggish, low-energy, and not particularly suspenseful, but most of all, it squanders a stellar Ashley Judd performance in a period where her silver screen appearances are becoming scarcer and scarcer.

If you haven’t feasted on Indonesia’s bounty of recent horror releases, don’t start here. Dancing Village: The Curse Begins is like elevator music in comparison.

Please don’t misinterpret this scathing review as an encouraging push to check out what could be a ridiculously flawed watch with friends. Agent Recon is unwatchable and doesn’t deserve your patronage.

I was ready for Kill Your Lover to be a better concept than execution, but that’s not true. Its flaws are apparent, from a forced feature duration to inevitable conclusions, but there’s nothing detrimental enough to ruin an otherwise impressive original horror creation.

The film has one mode, and it's never coy about its intentions to pry tears from your ducts as often as possible. If you're in the mood for a Shakespearean J-drama about mortality, stock up on hankies and let 'er rip.

There's an endearing, homestyle warmth to the kooky sci-fi dramedy. Think Joe Swanberg's "Mumblecore" roots by way of Charles Band's late-night horror schlockiness – and I mean that with love.

It’s a generic blend of human drama and otherworldly horrors. Consumed never makes the most of its Wendigo punctuations, whether hampered by budgetary limits or to-the-point scripting that overstays its welcome at nearly 90 minutes.

The Last Breath is competent to a point, without ever exceeding — or even achieving — baseline aquatic horror standards.

The dialogue is cringy even by Universal Soldier sequel standards, performances more wooden than Pinocchio, and combat showpieces are a shambles of digital effects that spike not even a tingle of bruised and bloodied excitement.

Nice Days doesn't execute its emotional or comedic beats with the same enthusiasm, but the pulverizations are still bountiful — there's plenty of bruised and bloody aggression to save the day.

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

Heavier Trip is another gift to metalheads that has me hungry for a third, hopefully with a return to the more renegade nature of their original kitchen-sink odyssey.

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.

Michael Jai White's million-dollar presence and fancy fighting techniques aren't powerful enough to overcome dull scripting and odd performance choices.

Bambi: The Reckoning is an audaciously bloody but distractingly humorless creature feature.

It’s a clever reinvention of commonly distraught themes, teaching an old dog new tricks with a dreadfully cosmic twist.

I Heart Willie is an overcomplicated, underdelivered, and all-around disappointing public domain slasher that can’t even get rudimentary filmmaking techniques right.

It Ends takes viewers for a terrifying ride in unexpected ways.

825 Forest Road is a stodgy paranormal thriller that doesn’t boast enough character or intensity to reach the heights of its director’s Hell House LLC movies.