Matt Donato

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.