Isleen Pines (2024) | First #Shocktober straggler is a goofy Halloween bash gone intergalactic because nothing says “festive” like aliens interrupting your pumpkin beer run. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 4.9/10. Sometimes Halloween delivers treats. Other times, it gives you whatever Isleen Pines is. Best I can come up with is a chewy mix of blood, B-movie charm, and pure, unfiltered Halloween spirit. Written and directed by Matthew Festle and Alexys Paonessa, this indie horror-comedy proudly wears its budget on its sleeve, along with a few thrift-store costume seams.

Set in the delightfully generic town of Isleen Pines, the story revolves around a group of friends converging on their annual Halloween bash, hosted by The Witch (Naiia Loije). Guests of honor include The Vampire (Jackson Turner), The Ghost (Festle himself), and The Zombie (Darren Deng)—names that tell you everything you need to know about their characters and their costumes. While the partygoers sip, stumble, and try to out-spook each other, a group of aliens with costumes so goofy they might’ve been designed by a trick-or-treating preschooler decides to crash the fun.

The result? A surprisingly enjoyable mash-up of party antics, alien chaos, and plenty of fake blood. The movie cleverly alternates between the group at the party and the stragglers trying to get there, keeping the pace varied enough that you never quite know whose night is about to get ruined next. The filmmakers clearly had a blast putting this together—you can practically feel the sticky floors, cheap fog machine haze, and chaotic enthusiasm radiating through the screen.

There’s also a genuinely festive Halloween atmosphere here that many bigger productions somehow miss. The decorations, the mischief, and the small-town vibe all make it feel like you’re hanging out at a neighborhood haunted house where everyone’s in on the joke. When the gore finally kicks into overdrive near the finale, it’s like the filmmakers saved up their entire special-effects budget for one gloriously messy payoff—and honestly, it works.

Sure, the film never explains the aliens or their purpose, but that’s kind of the point. They show up, they slime some people, and they remind you that sometimes horror doesn’t need a reason, it just needs a good excuse for chaos.

At the end of the day, Isleen Pines is the cinematic equivalent of finding an unexpected full-size candy bar in your trick-or-treat bag: not what you expected, maybe a little off-brand, but satisfying nonetheless. It’s goofy, gory, and made with passion—and in indie horror, that combination goes a long way.

Isleen Pines (2023)

Adequate if you’re okay with low-budget charm, but undeniably fun and festive enough to earn a place in your Halloween watchlist. And with that ending? Don’t be surprised if these aliens come back for seconds.

https://jackmeat.com/isleen-pines-2024/

Halloween Ends (2022) | Halloween Ends turns The Shape into a supporting act in his own finale, ending the #Shocktober trilogy with more sighs than screams. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 4.7/10. I’ve been procrastinating on this review since I watched Halloween Ends a week prior, and the reason is simple: expectations + final result = crap.

When David Gordon Green resurrected this iconic horror series in 2018, he took a bold turn from all the previous incarnations, continuing directly from the end of John Carpenter’s 1978 original. That first reboot had moderate success and felt like a fresh, grounded take on the Halloween mythos. Then came Halloween Kills, which critics panned, but I actually thought was a step up — more brutal, more in line with what Michael Myers should be.

Now we’ve reached the big trilogy finale… and it’s a mess. This movie doesn’t just undo the previous two entries, it undermines the entire legacy of Michael Myers. Somehow, the most iconic slasher in horror history gets sidelined into a supporting role, tagging along like a deranged mentor to a small-town misfit named Corey (Rohan Campbell).

The film opens with a scene explaining why Corey is an outcast, and it works well enough. But then you realize something is off: you don’t see Michael Myers for nearly half the movie. For a film marketed as the ultimate showdown between Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) and The Shape, we spend far too much time on teen angst and Corey’s awkward descent into wannabe killer territory. His relationship with Allyson (Andi Matichak), Laurie’s granddaughter, doesn’t help either — it’s just more filler in a story that should’ve been laser-focused on closing this decades-long feud.

The writing struggles badly here. Corey’s “training” under Michael feels absurd, and the moment the kid survives their first encounter, the entire mythos collapses. Even the small details are ridiculous, like Corey’s sudden miracle cure for needing glasses. You’ll know what I mean when you see it.

What could have been a symbolic “passing of the torch” ends up destroying both arcs — the new and the old — in one swoop. The climactic battle between Laurie and Michael feels rushed and forced, loaded with why-in-hell moments that had me shaking my head. If you’re hoping for quality kills, forget it. Aside from one tongue spinning on a record player, there’s almost nothing memorable. Gone are the haunting shots of Michael lurking in shadows or silently watching from a doorway.

Visually, this movie lacks style, suspense, and purpose. It looks fine technically, but it feels hollow — a finale that whimpers instead of roars. The trilogy ends with all the subtlety of a parade down Main Street, practically screaming, “We’re done!”

Yet, we all know this isn’t the end. Halloween will rise again someday, hopefully in the hands of someone who remembers why Michael Myers terrified us in the first place. Until then, Halloween Ends lives up to its title—not as a satisfying conclusion, but as a mercy killing for a story that deserved better.

Halloween Ends (2022)

https://jackmeat.com/halloween-ends-2022/

Halloween Kills (2021) | This #Shocktober sequel amplifies the carnage while exploring why The Shape kills, and what truly fuels the legend of Haddonfield. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 6.4/10. David Gordon Green’s Halloween Kills picks up immediately where the 2018 Halloween left off, and the continuity here deserves real credit. The transition feels seamless. It’s almost as if the previous film’s credits roll right into this one. Given how that finale unfolded, bringing the story forward in such a plausible way is a feat in itself. And let’s be honest, after the restrained carnage of the last entry, every fan (myself included) was calling for a higher body count. Green and his writing crew clearly heard the cries from the burning Strode house and answered them.

The result? Michael Myers — still credited as “The Shape” and once again inhabited by Nick Castle — is mad as hell, and it shows. The film doesn’t rely on gratuitous gore, but it definitely delivers on numbers. The kills are varied, brutal, and carry that satisfying rhythm you expect from a slasher who’s had decades to perfect his craft. The atmosphere throughout is appropriately grim, aided by moody lighting and camera work that constantly keeps your eyes scanning every dark corner of the frame, waiting for him to appear.

While Halloween Kills dives straight into the chaos, it also gives a quick refresher course for anyone who somehow missed the last forty years of mayhem. Back in Haddonfield, a group of survivors from previous encounters gather to remember the victims — a nice touch that reintroduces legacy characters. Of course, nostalgia only goes so far before The Shape shows up to remind them what they’re remembering.

Jamie Lee Curtis returns as Laurie Strode, though this time she spends more of the runtime sidelined due to her injuries from the previous film. Still, her presence looms large. What’s more interesting is the film’s attempt to expand the psychological and even philosophical questions around Myers — why does he kill? Why Laurie? The script flirts with the idea of deeper motives, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they were teasing some throwback to the old Thorn cult lore, though it’s never made explicit.

Not everything hits perfectly. The film gets bogged down during a long, drawn-out mob sequence meant to showcase how fear and chaos infect small-town America. The idea works thematically, but the execution overstays its welcome, much like a party guest who doesn’t realize the music’s been turned off. I had a similar complaint about pacing in the 2018 installment, and it creeps up again here.

Still, Halloween Kills succeeds in making Michael Myers terrifying once more. It’s meaner, bloodier, and closer to what long-time fans expect when the Boogeyman returns home. As a mid-trilogy entry, it’s both satisfying and clearly sets the stage for the grand finale, Halloween Ends. For #Shocktober viewing, it’s a solid entry in the franchise and one that reminds us that evil doesn’t die tonight, but it sure makes a mess trying.

Halloween Kills (2021)

https://jackmeat.com/halloween-kills-2021/

Halloween (2018) | Halloween (2018) looked ready to slice up #Shocktober, but only proved evil ages better than tension. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 6.3/10. Forty years after the night that changed horror forever, Halloween (2018) promised to be the definitive reckoning between Laurie Strode and Michael Myers. Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis), now a traumatized survivor turned hardened recluse, has spent decades preparing for Michael’s inevitable return. When he escapes during a transfer from Smith’s Grove Sanitarium, her lifelong paranoia proves justified. But as The Shape (Nick Castle) resumes his silent, relentless killing spree, the real question becomes whether Laurie’s obsession with the Boogeyman has consumed her more than the evil she fears.

I went into this with high expectations—waiting until I was back in Australia in 2019 to finally give it a watch—and unfortunately, it wasn’t worth the wait. It’s not a bad movie, especially by slasher standards, but it’s far too monotonous. The pacing plods along, draining much of the tension that made the 1978 original such a nerve-shredder. The setup of Michael being kept alive and transferred feels rushed, glossed over to get to the meat of the story. Laurie’s decades-long trauma and her obsessive preparation for a showdown that, on paper, should’ve been cathartic.

Curtis gives it her all, and her portrayal of Laurie as a woman scarred but unbroken is compelling. The problem lies in how the movie treats the horror. The kills are surprisingly restrained, which could’ve worked if the tension compensated—but it doesn’t. Instead, long stretches of characters slowly poking around dark hallways replace any real suspense. A full third of the movie feels like one endless search sequence that halts the momentum entirely.

Visually, though, Halloween nails the autumnal atmosphere. The orange-hued leaves, suburban streets, and eerie lighting evoke the spirit of Carpenter’s original. There’s craft here, especially in how the cinematography mirrors the first film’s voyeuristic framing. But the movie itself is rarely scary. Too many scenes show Michael casually strolling into homes and killing strangers without buildup or payoff. The result feels more mechanical than menacing. Michael becomes less a force of evil and more of a bored factory worker clocking in for another night shift of murder.

For what it’s worth, it serves as a passable 40-year-later wrap-up (though we all know it didn’t really end there). It looks great, Curtis delivers, and the respect for the original’s tone is clear. But Halloween just doesn’t pack the punch it should’ve. It’s eerie but dull and lifeless—a flick that, much like its masked villain, refuses to die but doesn’t quite know why it’s still walking. We shall see if Michael gets his bearings in Halloween Kills.

Halloween (2018)

https://jackmeat.com/halloween-2018/

Good Boy (2025) | A loyal dog versus the darkness, Good Boy blends supernatural chills with heartfelt emotion. Indy the dog absolutely steals this #Shocktober show. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 6.5/10. Very rarely have I seen a film come along that makes you question what’s going on inside the minds of animals, and Good Boy takes that concept to unsettling depths. Directed by Ben Leonberg, this supernatural drama follows Indy, a loyal dog who moves to a rural home with his owner, only to face unseen horrors lurking in the shadows. As the supernatural entities close in, it’s Indy—not the humans—who becomes the story’s emotional and heroic core.

For a trained animal, Indy the dog delivers a performance that puts most human actors to shame. He expresses fear, sadness, loyalty, and bravery with nothing more than subtle gestures, expressive eyes, and finely tuned body language. It’s no exaggeration to say this pooch deserves a Best Actor nomination. We often take for granted that dogs can sense death, illness, and emotion—but this film explores what that might mean to them. Imagine perceiving mortality itself; Good Boy turns that concept into a quiet nightmare, framed through the eyes (and nose) of man’s best friend.

Leonberg’s direction is nothing short of ingenious. He reportedly spent over 400 days across three years capturing Indy's performance with unparalleled realism. Nearly every shot is from the dog’s point of view, achieved by keeping the camera close to ground level—making the human world seem enormous, alien, and threatening. That choice pays off brilliantly, immersing us in a perspective that’s both intimate and terrifying. The decision to obscure human faces amplifies that immersion, forcing the viewer to emotionally anchor themselves to Indy’s experience.

The film’s supernatural angle, while not groundbreaking in plot, blends traditional haunted-house tension with an existential twist: how does an animal perceive evil? The scares are measured but effective—fleeting shadows, eerie sounds, and the slow realization that Indy may be seeing what his human cannot. The editing and effects are crisp, with moments of haunting imagery that linger just long enough to crawl under your skin.

Larry Fessenden’s involvement lends the film an indie-horror credibility, grounding its more experimental edges in something familiar for genre fans. But Good Boy isn’t just another ghost story—it’s a haunting, deeply original study of loyalty and fear through a non-human lens. Indy’s journey is emotional, sometimes heart-wrenching, and above all, believable. You genuinely feel his confusion, his courage, and his love.

Good Boy is a small, strange, and beautiful film about a dog who sees too much of the darkness we ignore. It’s eerie, emotional, and unforgettable—proof that sometimes, the bravest souls in horror don’t have to speak at all. (Keeping it spoiler-free, but I think my hints in the review say what I believe was really going on in this flick)

https://jackmeat.com/good-boy-2025/

Arcadian (2024) | This flick offers a mix of horror and action, bolstered by the enigmatic presence of Nicolas Cage. #jackmeatsflix #Shocktober

My quick rating - 5.8/10. I don’t care what anyone says, you simply can’t go wrong with Nicolas Cage. Whether he’s going full-tilt crazy or quietly simmering under the surface, Cage always commits, and his latest flick Arcadian is no exception. Set in a dystopian future where Earth’s remaining inhabitants face relentless terror after nightfall, the film blends post-apocalyptic survival drama with creature-feature horror, and Cage gives it more emotional weight than it probably deserves.

Cage stars as Paul, a devoted father raising his two sons, Thomas (Maxwell Jenkins) and Joseph (Jaeden Martell), in a fortified farmhouse. By day, the world seems eerily calm—almost too calm—but once the sun sets, the family is under siege by monstrous, unseen terrors that roam the night. The rule is simple: be home before sundown. But when Thomas breaks that rule, Paul is forced to risk everything to bring him back before the horrors descend. What follows is a tense, grim, and occasionally touching story of family survival in a world gone dark, literally and figuratively.

One of the standout elements to me is the creature design. The monsters—sort of a twisted blend between the “lickers” from Resident Evil and bird-faced nightmares—are unnerving to watch. The way their heads violently twitch before they attack adds a jarring, insect-like menace that genuinely gets under your skin. The film uses them sparingly, which works in its favor, keeping the fear of the unknown alive until all hell breaks loose.

Cage, unsurprisingly, anchors the whole experience. Even when the dialogue gets clunky or the pacing starts to wander (and it does, especially in the middle act), he sells every scene with conviction. His portrayal of Paul carries the right mix of exhausted ferocity and paternal love, making the character feel real even amid the chaos. You could give this man a script about fighting toaster ovens, and he’d still find a way to make it compelling.

That said, Arcadian doesn’t completely escape the pitfalls of its genre. The plot hits familiar beats, the pacing slows to a crawl at times, and a few lines of dialogue feel pulled from the “end of the world” cliché handbook. Yet, despite these flaws, the film manages to hold your attention with its moody atmosphere, solid creature effects, and Cage’s ever-watchable performance.

It’s not groundbreaking, but it delivers enough tension and monster mayhem to satisfy fans of survival horror. In the end, Arcadian is exactly what you’d expect from a Nicolas Cage apocalyptic thriller—flawed but engaging, weirdly heartfelt, and just unsettling enough to make you think twice about venturing out after dark.

Arcadian (2024)

https://jackmeat.com/arcadian-2024/

Halloween Candy (2025) | Halloween Candy proves not all treats are sweet, and this #Shocktober flick gives you cavities of the cinematic kind. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 2.6/10. With a name like Halloween Candy, I was hoping for a sweet, sugary bite of terror but it mostly left me gnawing on stale nougat. Molly Gazay stars as Liza, a recently divorced writer spending her first Halloween alone, and she’s desperate for inspiration. Luckily for her (and us, unfortunately), a parade of trick-or-treaters stops by, inspiring a series of spooky tales that make up this anthology of mild horrors. I like the premise, but like a bag of discount candy corn, most of it just tastes the same.

The first story, “Halloween House,” kicks things off with a crooked haunted house owner whose shady business practices come back to bite him—sorta. The setup promises something nasty, but the payoff is more “light nibble” than “savage mauling.” There’s a shootout (off-screen), a few blood droplets, and the vague sense that maybe the director wanted to go home early. Still, it’s passable if you fill in all the other stuff they could've done with it. (2)

Next up is “Predator,” a tale about a wolf-costumed kid and a creepy stranger that doubles as an after-school special for overprotective parents. It’s a reminder that stranger danger still sells, even if the execution here feels like it was filmed during a lunch break. By now, Liza’s already deep into her bottle of inspiration juice, and honestly, who can blame her? (2)

Then we get “Talking to the Dead,” where a group of teen drinkers decide it’s a good idea to contact their deceased friend via séance. Spoiler: it’s not. This one gets a few unintentional laughs thanks to some hilariously awkward dialogue and a budget séance setup. IF you have a good imagination, you can fill in what happens since they don't bother showing us. Still, it tries to say something about guilt and loss. The problem is, it mostly just says, “Please don’t drive drunk.” (2)

Just when you think things can’t get weirder, “Pumpkin Night” lumbers in. There’s pumpkin carving, grief flashbacks, and acting so wooden it might as well have been carved too. It’s not terrible enough to be funny, but not good enough to care about either. And yet… I kind of respected the effort. A little. Okay, barely. (3)

“Coronaween” attempts to resurrect COVID horror five years too late. It’s a tone-deaf, low-effort reminder that not every global trauma needs a sequel. By this point, I was rooting for the virus. And then, like a light at the end of the candy bag, “A Killer Date” arrives — a short with actual tension, a twist that kind of works, and some blood that doesn’t look like ketchup. A Halloween miracle. (2) (4)

Halloween Candy (2025)

Finally, the wraparound story comes full circle with Liza’s last visitor — a creepy clown who ties everything together in a finale that’s more confusing than cathartic. Still, kudos for the practical gore and trying to make it count. Halloween Candy may not rot your teeth, but it will test your patience. Not quite a trick, not quite a treat — just a middle-of-the-road bite from the bottom of the bag. (3)

https://jackmeat.com/halloween-candy-2025/