F1: The Movie (2025) | Not a racing fan? Doesn’t matter. This high-octane Brad Pitt flick delivers the result of Top Gun & Formula 1 mating. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 7.3/10. Formula 1 has never been my sport, but every now and then a racing movie comes along that makes me wonder if I’ve been missing something. F1: The Movie is definitely one of those. It kicks off with an absolute wall of sound, engines roaring, waves crashing, tires biting into asphalt, and the authenticity in the audio hits you immediately. Honestly, hearing this in IMAX might’ve rattled a few internal organs in the best possible way. When you spend $300 million on a racing movie, you expect your ears to get blown back a little.

It is classic Hollywood underdog fuel with Sonny Hayes (Brad Pitt), a once-legendary driver now retired and jaded in that effortlessly cool Pitt way, getting pulled back into the high-speed chaos to help a struggling Formula 1 team. Of course, he’s also tasked with mentoring the talented young hothead Joshua (Damson Idris), and even if you haven’t seen the trailer, you already know exactly how this dynamic works. If you’ve seen any Tom Cruise vehicle where he pilots something fast—planes, cars, probably a shopping cart at some point—you’ve basically seen the blueprint for the romantic and emotional beats here. But predictable doesn’t mean boring. There’s still plenty of fun in watching the pieces click into place.

What surprised me most is how well the pacing holds together. At 155 minutes, this thing could’ve dragged like a pit stop gone wrong, but it never does. The emotional story and the racing spectacle blend smoothly enough that neither ever hijacks the film. And the “stand up and cheer” moment, because yes, there is one, and you’ll know it when it hits, works even if you see it coming a lap in advance.

Since I was curious how a movie like this performed with the “actual” racing crowd, I checked BoxOfficeMojo mid-celebration. Worldwide? A massive $631,327,111. Domestic? A painful $189,527,111. For a film this expensive, that’s a rough split. Which is a shame, because it’s genuinely a solid piece of entertainment.

Credit where it’s due: Lucasfilm’s Skywalker Sound clearly didn’t half-step here. The audio is crisp, aggressive, and better than what most action movies settle for these days. Even as someone who doesn’t follow the sport, I could appreciate the sensory punch. Now, realism? Yeah, I’m pretty sure Sonny would’ve eaten a black flag or two with some of the stunts he pulls. Racing purists can probably write essays on that. But for viewers like me who aren’t keeping score on authenticity, it’s actually an advantage. I get to enjoy the thrills without dissecting the physics or rules.

F1: The Movie isn’t reinventing the genre, but it delivers polished, high-octane entertainment that goes down easier than expected. If Top Gun traded jets for carbon fiber and pit lanes, this would be it. And honestly? I enjoyed it way more than I thought I would.

F1 The Movie (2025)

https://jackmeat.com/f1-the-movie-2025/

Afflicted (2013) | Smart, intense, and surprisingly polished, Afflicted turns its travel-vlog setup into one of the better modern found-footage horror stories. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 6.7/10. I had to rewatch Afflicted since it is one of those rare found-footage horror flicks that actually nails the formula instead of collapsing under it. A simple but effective setup sees Derek Lee and Clif Prowse, playing fictionalized versions of themselves, as lifelong friends about to embark on a year-long trip around the world. Derek has a serious medical condition hanging over his head, so Clif decides to document every moment, turning the entire journey into a first-person travelogue. That also means we’re locked into the “camera as character” viewpoint for the whole movie, a style I’m very much opposed to unless it’s done right.

After a fun start in Barcelona and a detour to Paris with some musician friends, things take a dark turn. Derek has a one-night encounter with a woman named Audrey (Baya Rehaz), and his friends find him the next morning, bloodied, bitten, and refusing to seek medical help. Once they hit Italy, it’s clear something is seriously wrong. Derek can’t keep food down, sunlight burns him, and his strength skyrockets to superhuman levels. It doesn’t take long for the guys, or anyone paying attention, to figure out that Derek didn’t just get unlucky; he’s turning into a vampire.

What makes Afflicted stand out is how surprisingly believable it all feels. The special effects and stunts are shockingly well executed for a low-budget indie horror movie. The transformation scenes, wall crawling, and violent outbursts have a visceral weight to them that most found-footage films never achieve. Directors Prowse and Lee lean hard into the chaos once the infection starts taking over, delivering chase scenes and confrontations that put most big-budget shaky-cam movies to shame.

The acting is another win. For a genre notorious for stiff or awkward performances, these two come off natural, likable, and genuinely worried about what’s happening. The friendship feels real, and that helps sell the emotional side of Derek losing control. Knowing that Lee and Prowse not only starred in but also wrote and directed the film makes it even more impressive. This is clearly a passion project built to push the limits of what found footage can do.

While it relies on some familiar vampire tropes, the execution elevates it. The movie commits to its concept, keeps the pacing tight, and doesn’t rely on cheap gimmicks. It’s one of the very few found-footage horror flicks I can strongly recommend, sitting comfortably next to Chronicle in terms of ambition and payoff. If you enjoy the genre or just want a genuinely creative spin on a vampire story, Afflicted is absolutely worth your time.

Afflicted (2014)

https://jackmeat.com/afflicted-2013/

Fight or Flight (2025) | Josh Hartnett battles assassins at 30,000 feet in this chaotic, over-the-top action flick that knows exactly what it wants to be. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating – 6.6/10. Fight or Flight is one of those movies where I saw the trailer while tossing it into my weekly “upcoming movies” slider and thought, “Yeah, that looks like it’ll scratch the itch.” And sure enough, it does. The setup is simple with Lucas (Josh Hartnett), a mercenary with the sort of résumé that definitely comes with hazard pay, taking on what should be a straightforward job. Track down a target on a plane. But when said target becomes the center of a murderous free-for-all at 30,000 feet, Lucas suddenly becomes the unwilling guardian of a person everyone else on board is trying to kill. Naturally, chaos follows.

Brooks McLaren and D. J. Cotrona put together an enjoyable storyline—nothing groundbreaking, but solid enough to give the frenzy some shape. The plot twists are predictable, and the themes aren’t exactly deep, but honestly, that’s part of the charm. This isn’t a film pretending to be more than it is. It knows it’s here to deliver punches, quips, and blood spray, and it does so proudly.

Because most of the film’s action stays confined to the plane, the movie leans hard into frantic brawls, hand-to-hand chaos, and “grab whatever’s within arm’s reach and hit someone with it” fight choreography. That approach works far better than it has any right to. The action is consistently energetic, sometimes outright hilarious, and always inventive. And when a few idiots decide it’s smart to pull out guns inside a pressurized metal tube, things escalate in the kind of over-the-top fashion that made the '90s action era so fun. Someone even finds a chainsaw in the cargo hold—because why not? I won’t lie. The second that thing revved up, I knew director James Madigan understood the assignment.

Madigan doesn’t shy away from bloodshed either. The film isn’t a gorefest, but it absolutely doesn’t skimp. Between the messy kills, the frantic melees, and a surprising amount of creativity in how bodies hit walls, seats, and occasionally in the luggage bin, it delivers exactly what a movie like this should. The action set pieces are excellently choreographed, fast but readable, and they keep the momentum high. The pacing is another strong point. No long stretches of dead air, no tedious detours. It moves quickly and confidently from one skirmish to the next.

Josh Hartnett is clearly having a blast, and his chemistry with Charithra Chandran brings some unexpected warmth to the carnage. Their connection gives the film a little emotional glue without slowing things down. When a movie features both chainsaw duels and surprisingly sweet character moments, you know it’s aiming for “fun first, logic second,” and it lands right where it should.

Fight or Flight is silly, stylish, packed with energy, and built for audiences who just want a good time. It’s absolutely set up for a sequel, and I’m sure it’s coming. For an over-the-top airborne assassination extravaganza, this one delivers.

Fight or Flight (2025)

https://jackmeat.com/fight-or-flight-2025/

Queens of the Dead (2025) | Tina Romero’s queer-centered zombie film is playful and chaotic, appealing to campy film lovers but not to hardcore zombie enthusiasts.#jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 5.1/10.  Queens of the Dead is exactly what you'd expect from a zombie movie directed by Tina Romero. Yes, that Romero except don’t go in expecting anything close to her father’s brand of razor-sharp social commentary or bleak, creeping dread. Instead, this one plays out like a high-energy warehouse party that accidentally stumbles into a zombie apocalypse and just decides to roll with it. The film follows an eclectic mix of drag queens, club kids, lovers, enemies, and everything in between as they try to survive one wild night in Brooklyn. And yes, Tom Savini shows up as the mayor to remind everyone, “This is NOT a George Romero movie,” just in case the vibe wasn’t clear. Tina has some jokes in her.

The setup is fun, even if the movie occasionally trips over its own platform heels. At the center of the chaos is Dre, played by Katy O’Brian, who naturally falls into the role of group leader—strong, capable, and the only one who seems remotely prepared for the “scrolling undead.” Riki Lindhome plays Lizzy, the nurse and Dre’s partner, trying her best to keep things grounded between bursts of drama. The standout duo, though, is Pops (Margaret Cho), a total badass who storms the warehouse like an extra from John Wick to rescue her girlfriend Kelsey (Jack Haven). Their dynamic adds the closest thing this movie has to a couple I wanted to see survive.

But I'll be honest: the plot feels less like a survival story and more like several threads of relationship drama that just so happen to be interrupted by zombies every now and then. At times it feels forced, like the film really wants to be about love and community but keeps remembering it’s supposed to have undead carnage too. The zombies take a back seat so frequently that you start to wonder if they even realize they’re in the movie. Case in point: the five-minute dance break. Yes, really. It’s fun in a midnight-movie way, but it absolutely derails whatever tension was trying to build.

That said, the production value is solid. The warehouse setting looks great, the makeup is decent, and the music fits the party-apocalypse tone perfectly. The comedy, however, is hit or miss. Some jokes land, others feel like they were written at 3 a.m. after a long night out. Gorehounds will be disappointed by the relatively light splatter, though Romero does use a musical performance as an excuse to stage some zombie kills—points for creativity.

Ultimately, Queens of the Dead is a fun, queer-powered zombie comedy that has its heart in the right place, even if it doesn’t commit hard enough to either the comedy or the horror. It honors George Romero’s legacy mostly through vibes and family lineage rather than thematic depth, and while it’s enjoyable, it’s nothing special. If you’re looking for a serious zombie flick, keep walking. If you want camp, color, and chaos? Step right in.

Queens of the Dead (2025)

https://jackmeat.com/queens-of-the-dead-2025/

Monkey Man (2024) | Dev Patel swings hard with Monkey Man, a brutal, blood-pumping revenge ride that hits hard emotionally and physically. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 7.0/10. That was one wild, blood-pumping ride of a movie, and that isn't my sarcasm saying so. Monkey Man, produced by Jordan Peele and directed by Dev Patel, who also takes the lead as the mysterious fighter known simply as Kid, delivers a raw, emotional, and occasionally bone-crunching experience. Set in the shadowy corners of an unnamed Indian city, the film drops us into Kid’s underground world, where he makes ends meet by letting people beat the living hell out of him in illegal fight clubs while wearing a gorilla mask. Because, you know, dignity is optional when rent’s due.

Underneath the sweat and blood is a deeper story of trauma and revenge. Patel weaves a layered story of a man who has been stepped upon one too many times, until finally, it's payback season. When Kid finds a way into the inner circle of the city’s corrupt elite, all that pent-up fury explodes, and his scarred hands turn into the kind of problem money can’t bribe away.

What really makes Monkey Man stand out, though, is the action. The fight choreography is absolutely top-notch, with every punch, kick, and improvised weapon feeling genuine. There’s an intensity that reminds me of The Raid 2, especially during a spectacular kitchen fight that practically begs for a replay. I was glad the camera work never loses focus, letting the choreography speak for itself instead of hiding it behind shaky cuts. The chase scenes hit just as hard, throwing in bursts of chaos that kept me glued to the screen.

The revenge story, while nothing particularly new, is well-told with emotional weight thanks to flashbacks that give Kid some real character depth. You actually feel why he’s doing what he’s doing, which is more than can be said for half the action heroes out there. Yeah, I thought a few moments were predictable and the film does dip into familiar territory now and then, but honestly, when the storytelling and the direction are this tight, who’s complaining?

And the soundtrack isn't bad either. Each track strikes the right emotional cue, never too little, never too much. Patel is magnetic on-screen, balancing quiet vulnerability and explosive rage in a way that's riveting from start to finish. The supporting characters add some colorful flavor along the way, and the urban backdrops feel lived-in rather than dressed-up.

I’ll admit, I was skeptical going in. Dev Patel directing an action revenge film sounded like one of those “this could either be genius or chaos” situations. Thankfully, it’s much closer to the first. Monkey Man is a smart, stylish, and brutally satisfying action flick that proves Patel’s got serious chops behind and in front of the camera. For action junkies, this one’s worth your time, and maybe a second viewing just to appreciate how clean those punches land.

Monkey Man (2024)

https://jackmeat.com/monkey-man-2024/

Guess Who (2024) | I had a harder time guessing what the makers of this flick were trying to accomplish as opposed to who the killer was. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 4.0/10. I’m fairly certain the filmmakers weren’t quite sure what direction they wanted to go with Guess Who, so they just kept switching gears mid-filming to see what stuck. The result is this movie that starts with an interesting concept. We get a family visit gone wrong when a psychotic killer shows up under the guise of an unusual tradition, but quickly loses control of its own story.

The premise hints at something that could’ve been a tight, unsettling thriller with a psychological edge. Instead, it teeters awkwardly between suspense, horror, and dark drama, never committing to one long enough to build any real tension. Each scene seems to belong to a different movie entirely, leaving me wondering if the editor had to piece together three drafts of a script written by different people.

Keeya King does what she can with the material, and to her credit, there are flashes where the performances briefly elevate things above mediocrity. But those moments are fleeting. Any emotional pull or sense of dread is constantly undermined by the erratic storytelling. Just when a scene starts to build atmosphere, it’s either undercut by a tonal shift or dragged down by clunky dialogue that makes you question what kind of movie this was ever supposed to be.

As a viewer, I found myself not only guessing the identity of the killer — which, fine, that’s the point — but also trying to guess what the filmmakers were going for in the first place. The film’s pacing lurches from slow-burn family tension to rushed slasher chaos, never finding the balance that could’ve tied it all together.

That said, I’ve seen far worse attempts at this kind of genre blend. There’s a kernel of a good idea buried under the confusion, and a few sequences show glimpses of what could’ve been an effective, unsettling thriller if Amelia Moses' vision had been clearer. Unfortunately, Guess Who ends up being more of a cinematic shrug, a missed opportunity that left me with more questions than answers.

Forgettable? Absolutely. But at least it’s not the worst way to kill an evening. Have you read about some of the trash I have watched?

Guess Who (2024)

https://jackmeat.com/guess-who-2024/

Frankenstein (2025) | A darkly beautiful, emotionally devastating take on a timeless monster brought to life by the visionary Guillermo del Toro. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 8.2/10. When I first heard that Guillermo del Toro was finally making his version of Frankenstein, I was already in line, no further information needed. The master of the macabre brings Mary Shelley’s timeless tragedy to life with both ferocity and heart, creating something which feels equal parts Gothic horror and soulful meditation on creation, loss, and obsession.

The film opens with a hauntingly beautiful scene aboard a frozen ship where Dr. Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac) recounts his story to Captain Walton (Lars Mikkelsen). From there, del Toro splits his film into two distinct yet complementary parts: Victor’s Tale and The Creature’s Tale. It’s an ambitious narrative structure that pays off wonderfully, giving equal weight to both the creator and his tormented creation.

In Victor’s Tale, we see a young Victor (Christian Convery) raised amidst death, ambition, and an unrelenting thirst for knowledge. His broken family life fuels his desire to transcend mortality itself—a hunger nurtured further when he meets the cunning benefactor Harlander (Christoph Waltz), who gives him the lab (and unchecked freedom) to play God. The period setting—mid-1800s Europe—is gorgeously realized. Every candlelit corridor, every misty graveyard breathes del Toro’s signature gothic romanticism. It's rich visually, potent emotionally, and immersive in that way only he knows how to make happen.

Then comes The Creature’s Tale, and the shift is magnificent. Following the catastrophic lab explosion, Jacob Elordi steps into the spotlight as the Creature, and what a performance it is. His portrayal oscillates between rage, heartbreak, and fleeting humanity with startling precision. The prosthetics and makeup work deserve their own ovation—equal parts horrifying and mesmerizing. Elordi embodies the anguish of a being born from genius yet abandoned by it, and del Toro captures every ounce of that torment through meticulous framing and poetic pacing.

Mia Goth, as Elizabeth, once again proves why I believe she’s one of the most compelling actors working today. She exudes both warmth and tragedy, grounding the film’s emotional undercurrent. Christoph Waltz brings a deliciously sinister spin to the supporting cast, while Felix Kammerer shines in his underappreciated role as Victor's brother William. Still, this is very much the Isaac-and-Elordi show. Oscar Isaac’s performance is another jewel in his ever-growing crown of morally complex roles. His Victor is brilliant, arrogant, and ultimately broken, the perfect match for del Toro’s dark romantic vision.

The sound design is chillingly effective, the score a thunderous hymn to the grotesque beauty of del Toro’s imagination. I love his attention to atmosphere. It is unmatched. Even the lab feels alive, pulsating with the hum of creation and damnation. The film’s violence is striking and, at times, shocking—del Toro doesn’t flinch from showing the raw brutality of man and monster alike.

Though faithful to Mary Shelley’s text, del Toro injects enough in the way of emotion and visual depth to make this the definitive cinematic version for a new generation. It’s both grand and intimate, philosophical and visceral. The pacing dips here and there, but even when scenes slow down, the emotion never does.

Frankenstein is a near masterpiece. An operatic fusion of art, horror, and heartache proving once again why del Toro stands among cinema’s great visionaries. Oscar Isaac commands, Jacob Elordi astonishes, and Guillermo del Toro delivers a resurrection worthy of legend. The Oscar committee better be watching.

Frankenstein (2025)

https://jackmeat.com/frankenstein-2025/

The Boxer's Omen (1983) | Kickboxing meets voodoo in this cinematic buffet of black magic that defies logic, reason, and all health codes. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 6.8/10. Every now and then, a movie comes along that feels less like a film and more like a panic dream induced by expired shrimp. The Boxer’s Omen is one of those cinematic hallucinations. A genre-defying mix of kung fu, black magic, glowing intestines, and Buddhist enlightenment, all wrapped up in a technicolor Saran Wrap nightmare courtesy of the Shaw Brothers.

It starts off deceptively normal: a gritty revenge setup involving a Hong Kong boxer named Chan Hung (Phillip Ko) seeking payback after his brother gets crippled in a match against a cheating Thai fighter, Bolo Yeung. Mr. Hong Kong flexes his way through the opening fight like it’s another Tuesday. But then, somewhere between the revenge plot and the next roundhouse kick, the movie opens a portal straight into the ninth circle of bonkers.

Chan Hung’s journey to avenge his brother turns into a psychedelic pilgrimage through Buddhist mysticism, black magic, and the world’s most questionable practical effects. We’re talking spiders that look like they escaped from a Temu Halloween sale, flying puppet bats on visible strings, and crocodile skulls that “attack” with all the menace of a malfunctioning wind-up toy. And yet, there’s an undeniable charm in how earnestly it all plays out.

The camera work is surprisingly creative, using tight angles, swirling motion, and neon lighting that would make Dario Argento proud. The soundtrack? Pure 80s synth glory. It punctuates every ritual, vomit session, and monk battle like the composer was having the time of his life with a Casio keyboard and no supervision.

Speaking of the rituals, I’ve seen some wild ones in horror, but this film takes the incense-scented cake. We’re treated to a rebirth sequence involving a corpse stuffed inside a gutted crocodile, some very slimy black magic duels, and enough maggots to make David Cronenberg blush. It’s equal parts mesmerizing and revolting, and impossible to look away from.

Despite its insanity (or maybe because of it), The Boxer’s Omen has a kind of hypnotic beauty. The Shaw Brothers’ production gives it slick locations across Bangkok, Kathmandu, and Hong Kong, and there’s a genuine sense of ambition buried beneath the goo, claymation, and vomit.

You don’t watch The Boxer’s Omen for logic. I watched it because my brain occasionally craves chaos, and this movie delivers it in glorious, Saran-Wrapped fashion. It’s gross, it’s goofy, and it’s absolutely unforgettable.

If you think you’ve seen it all in cult cinema, think again. This one doesn’t just think outside the box — it eats the box, regurgitates it, and uses the remains in a black magic ritual. Not for everyone but after reading this, you know if it is for you.

The Boxer's Omen (1983)

https://jackmeat.com/the-boxers-omen-1983/

Breathe (2024) | In a world where there is no breathable air, they still find a way to bore the crap out of you. Even with this cast. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 3.5/10. In the not-too-distant future, where the air supply is low, a mother and daughter must fend off two strangers seeking an oxygenated hideaway. Breathe sounds like it has a solid premise for a sci-fi thriller, right? Well…don’t hold your breath.

I’m always game for a new sci-fi flick, and the cast for Breathe definitely caught my attention. Unfortunately, that’s about where the positives end. Writer Doug Simon somehow managed to script an entire movie around an unbelievable setup. And director Stefon Bristol didn’t do much to patch the leaks. The result? A film that starts with plot holes large enough to vent the last remaining oxygen right out of the room.

The concept of Earth suddenly losing all breathable air could have been fascinating. But instead of building a grounded world (no pun intended), Bristol gives us a landscape that looks like a war zone hit by nuclear bombs rather than an atmospheric collapse. No trees or birds? Sure, I’ll buy that. But bridges crumbling and skyscrapers in ruins four years later? That is not climate collapse; that is someone playing Fallout with the scenery budget.

Inside their bunker, Jennifer Hudson and Quvenzhané Wallis do their best as the mother-daughter duo holding onto hope (and oxygen). Most of the movie takes place in this makeshift shelter, which features some very questionable “future tech.” It’s all blinking lights, random alarms, and gadgets that look like they were borrowed from a '90s sci-fi channel special. The constant warning sirens are basically the soundtrack here, so if you enjoy anxiety-inducing beeping, you’re in luck.

Whenever someone ventures outside, we’re treated to some of the flattest post-apocalyptic scenery I’ve seen in years. The sets look more like a high school drama club’s stage production of The Last of Us. Which is baffling, considering the cast list suggests there was a budget. When I saw Milla Jovovich pop up, I realized where the money probably went, because it sure didn’t go into world-building.

To be fair, the actors give it their all. Hudson, Wallis, and Jovovich do their best to elevate the material, but even solid performances can’t save a film this devoid of logic or tension. By the time the “twist” ending rolls around (and no, I won’t spoil it), I was more oxygen-deprived from sighing than they were from the atmosphere.

Breathe (2024)

Overall, Breathe is a forgettable post-apocalyptic misfire — a movie that promises a tense survival story but delivers a limp, airless experience instead. The cast breathes life into an otherwise suffocating script, but even they can’t save it from collapsing under its own weight.

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

The Smashing Machine (2025) | Dwayne Johnson transforms into MMA legend Mark Kerr in this emotional story about addiction and the brutal cost of glory. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 6.3/10. In The Smashing Machine, Dwayne Johnson sheds his superstar persona to deliver one of his most transformative performances to date. As Mark Kerr, the dominant but deeply troubled mixed martial artist of the late 1990s, Johnson disappears behind the role, physically and emotionally. The resemblance is uncanny, and his portrayal captures both the brute strength and the fragile humanity behind Kerr’s intimidating exterior. To everyone who lived through the early days of MMA like me, seeing Johnson channel “The Smashing Machine” feels like stepping into a time capsule of a sport still finding its identity.

It tells the story from 1997 to 2000. One of the defining eras of Kerr's career-in a gritty, documentary style. Rather than glorifying the violence of the cage, the film zeroes in on the toll it takes outside of it. Kerr’s opioid addiction and volatile relationship with his girlfriend Dawn (Emily Blunt) form the emotional backbone of the movie. The chemistry between Johnson and Blunt feels real. Two people stuck in a destructive orbit, holding onto love as everything else around them falls apart.

Ryan Bader, assuming the role of fellow fighter Mark Coleman, brings credibility and heart to the supporting cast. Their camaraderie and shared struggle ground the film in realism. Yet, for all the authenticity in its performances and presentation, The Smashing Machine sometimes feels incomplete. It assumes a level of MMA knowledge that casual viewers might not have. Kerr’s switch from the UFC to Pride Fighting Championships—a major career move motivated by better pay and global recognition—is barely addressed. For longtime fans like myself, who watched Kerr tear through tournaments and reshape early MMA, this omission has felt like a miss in contextualizing just how seismic that move was for the sport.

What the movie nails, however, is the human side of Kerr’s life. The pressure, pain, and pills; the highs of victory and the crushing lows afterward. Seeing snippets of the real Mark Kerr reinforces the film’s commitment to authenticity and gives weight to Johnson’s portrayal. Still, while it succeeds as a character study, it struggles as a broader introduction to Kerr’s legacy. It’s easy to imagine non-fans walking away wondering what made this man a legend in the first place.

The Smashing Machine is well-acted and emotional, offering a somber look at the sacrifices behind the spotlight. But its appeal is limited. MMA fans will find plenty to appreciate, especially those of us who lived through the wild, formative years of the sport. But newcomers may be left on the outside looking in.

The Smashing Machine (2025)

https://jackmeat.com/the-smashing-machine-2025/

Black Phone 2 (2025) | Four years later, The Grabber isn’t done. Black Phone 2 dials up the nightmare with grimy visuals and dream-driven terror. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 6.5/10. Four years after escaping The Grabber (Ethan Hawke), Finney Blake (Mason Thames) hasn’t exactly found peace. Trauma clings to him like static, and his sister Gwen (Madeleine McGraw) is once again haunted. This time, not by her brother’s disappearance, but by vivid nightmares and strange phone calls echoing from beyond the grave. When the black phone starts ringing in her dreams, revealing visions of three boys being stalked at a winter camp, the siblings are pulled back into a chilling new mystery. One that ties the past and present together with icy fingers.

Scott Derrickson returns to the director’s chair, and from the opening payphone scene in 1957, he sets an unsettling tone. Creepy old music hums beneath the credits, the camera draped in nostalgic grain that looks straight out of a lost 70s horror reel. The result? Dream sequences that feel ripped from grindhouse cinema—grainy, grimy, and effective as hell. They’re sometimes violent, always unnerving, and they carry that surreal edge that made the first Black Phone so memorable, but this time, the dial points hard toward horror.

Where the original leaned more on psychological tension, its horror largely anchored by ghostly whispers, this sequel feels like Derrickson took a page from A Nightmare on Elm Street’s first outing. Before Freddy turned into a quip machine, remember when he was just pure nightmare fuel? That’s the tone here. There are no sarcastic one-liners, no breaks for levity—just cold dread and the sense that evil doesn’t stay buried. The Grabber, now known as “Wild Bill,” is back, and Ethan Hawke plays him with the disturbing charm of a homicidal gym teacher. Even though he doesn’t appear much until the final act, his presence dominates the film. When he’s on screen, it’s terrifying, proof again of how well Hawke understands this masked monster.

Derrickson’s craft is as sharp as ever. The camerawork captures the suffocating atmosphere perfectly, using archival-style footage and jittery edits that keep the audience uneasy. The visual design—especially in the dreamscapes—is top-notch, merging color and grain in a way that feels both vintage and nightmare-fresh. The effects are convincing, the makeup and blood are brutal but not excessive, and the tone stays grounded enough to avoid cheap jump scares.

Where Black Phone 2 falters is in its necessity. The first film wrapped things up neatly, almost perfectly, and this follow-up clearly had to stretch to find a reason to exist. Thankfully, the story’s direction, tying the supernatural to legacy trauma and exploring how evil evolves, gives it a new angle. It just doesn’t land with quite the same weight. The scares are solid, but not skin-crawling; the tension simmers, but rarely boils over.

Still, I thought it was a quality sequel that manages to respect the original while experimenting with tone and style. The expanded mythos, the dreamlike horror, and the eerie return of The Grabber all make for an unnerving experience, even if it feels like familiar territory. Between the effective direction, gritty visuals, and powerhouse performances, Black Phone 2 earns its dial tone. Just don’t expect it to haunt you long after it hangs up.

Black Phone 2 (2025)

https://jackmeat.com/black-phone-2-2025/

I Saw The TV Glow (2024) | If you’re drawn in by the glowing promise of weirdness, just know this one flickers out long before the credits roll. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 4.5/10. I Saw the TV Glow is one of those movies that promises a hypnotic, mind-bending experience yet I was just staring at the screen, wondering, “Wait, that’s it?” The poster glows with promise, and to its credit, the movie does draw you in with an intriguing setup and some great atmosphere. But when the credits roll, I was left feeling like I had watched someone else’s dream that forgot to end properly.

At its core, it’s a coming-of-age story with a supernatural twist. Teenager Owen (Justice Smith) delivers a solid performance filled with awkward innocence as he drifts through the monotony of suburban life. Things get weird when his classmate Maddy (Jack Haven, perfectly channeling goth-curiosity energy) introduces him to a mysterious late-night TV show. Soon, reality and fiction start blending, and Owen begins to question what’s real—and what’s just reruns of his own confusion.

Visually, the movie nails the vibe. The eerie television glow, the VHS-style production design, and that nostalgic static all work together to create a moody, almost dreamlike atmosphere. If this were a short film or an extended music video, it might have been brilliant. But as a feature, it drags like dial-up internet.

And then there’s the horror, if you can call it that. The scares are practically on vacation, and the tension dissolves faster than a TikTok trend. What could’ve been a haunting psychological descent ends up as a shallow pool of metaphors about identity, loneliness, and obsession that the film insists on spelling out for you in neon letters.

The symbolism is so overworked it practically waves at you. Every glance, every light flicker, every awkward silence screams “meaning!”—but instead of subtlety, it just feels like the film is trying too hard to be profound. The acting doesn’t help much, either; while everyone gives an earnest effort, emotional depth is replaced by long stares and mumbled lines that never quite land.

It’s frustrating, because I Saw the TV Glow looks great and clearly has something to say, but it never figures out how to say it. It’s like watching a beautifully shot dream sequence that refuses to wake up. The coming-of-age thread earns most of its points, but the horror elements are DOA.

In the end, I Saw the TV Glow is more style than substance—a surreal mood piece that mistakes ambiguity for depth. It’ll lure you in with its neon nostalgia and promise of psychological horror, only to leave you feeling emotionally ghosted. That is how I felt, but hey, when Fred Durst shows up, you gotta "get your hands up."

I Saw the TV Glow (2024)

https://jackmeat.com/i-saw-the-tv-glow-2024/

Enemy (2014) | Enemy has a dark heart, deliberate pacing, and a web of interpretations, so watch if you plan on paying full attention. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 6.5/10. This one sat on my watchlist for far too long, but I finally decided it was time to see what all the quiet confusion was about. Enemy, directed by Denis Villeneuve (long before he took us to Arrakis with Dune), is an eerie, slow-burning psychological mystery that’s as fascinating as it is frustrating.

Jake Gyllenhaal takes on double duty as Adam, a mild-mannered college professor, and Anthony, a confident, womanizing actor. The discovery of his exact double sends Adam spiraling into a surreal obsession that blurs the line between reality and delusion. Gyllenhaal nails both performances—subtle and haunted as Adam, arrogant and unpredictable as Anthony. He’s the kind of actor who thrives on internal chaos, and Villeneuve gives him the perfect playground here.

Unfortunately, it takes forever to get to that playground. The first act feels like watching beige paint dry. The only problem is that some of the pieces of the puzzle are in this first act. We get it—Adam’s life is monotonous, colorless, and void of meaning. But we didn’t need fifteen minutes of that point being hammered home. Once the movie finally starts unraveling its weirdness, though, it’s hypnotic. Villeneuve builds a sense of paranoia that makes even the most mundane cityscape feel alien. The brutal architecture, the dusty lighting, and the ever-present haze of yellow-gray tint all work to keep you off balance.

The film’s atmosphere is dreamlike, or maybe more accurately, nightmare-like. Every choice feels intentional: the claustrophobic apartment buildings, the unsettling music, the way conversations never quite sound natural. It all suggests a world on the edge of reality. And then there’s the recurring spider motif—creeping through dreams, symbolism, and maybe Adam’s own subconscious. I have my theory about what it means, but that’s a spoiler rabbit hole best left un-dug. Let’s just say it’s not here to make you feel cozy.

Based on the novel The Double by Nobel Prize winner José Saramago, Enemy is loaded with metaphor. But Villeneuve doesn’t hand you the answers. It’s one of those films that wants you to do the homework. If you pay full attention and allow yourself to interpret it, you’ll find plenty to chew on. If you half-watch it while scrolling your phone, you’ll probably wonder why you wasted your evening.

It’s not a film that invites you in. The characters are cold, detached, and often unlikeable. The tone is grim and unyielding. But that’s also part of its power—it makes you uncomfortable and forces you to look for meaning in the unease. Enemy isn’t easy to like, but it sticks with you long after the credits (and that final, infamous shot) roll.

Enemy (2014)

https://jackmeat.com/enemy-2014/

Mantis (2025) | Trained killers, childish drama. Mantis fires blanks emotionally, though the action’s fine in this forgettable entry in the Kill Boksoon universe. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 5.2/10. I spotted Mantis pop up at the end of September and finally got around to checking it out—mainly out of curiosity since it stars Yim Si-wan, who you’ll probably recognize from the second season of Squid Game. Here he plays the titular Mantis, an ace assassin who re-enters the contract killing game after a break, only to cross paths with his old trainee friend Jae-yi (Park Gyuyoung—also from Squid Game S2) and a retired legendary killer Dok-go (Jo Woo-jin, who’s been in Hard Hit and plenty of other Korean action flicks). Together, they form the shaky nucleus of a new murder-for-hire startup. Yes, really—think StartUp, but with headshots.

For a group of trained assassins, though, they act more like a group of moody teenagers trying to form a garage band. Maybe that’s intentional, but it drains a lot of the tension from what could have been a slick, cold-blooded thriller. The premise has promise—a rival company forms to challenge the monopoly of MK Entertainment, the reigning kings of contract killing—but instead of escalating into a brutal underworld war, it devolves into petty drama and pouting. Everyone hates everyone by the halfway mark, which I guess checks the “conflict” box, but not in a satisfying way.

The film’s connection to the Kill Boksoon universe is a fun easter egg for Netflix fans, but it doesn’t add much depth. In fact, you don’t need to have seen Kill Boksoon to follow this; if you have, you’ll probably just wish you were rewatching that instead. Mantis delivers some decent fight choreography—tight, well-framed, and mostly believable—but it never reaches the exhilarating highs of Korea’s best genre work. There’s no moment that made me sit forward and go, “Whoa.” It’s all serviceable, never special.

The biggest problem lies in the writing. These characters are meant to be emotionally complex killers grappling with loyalty, rivalry, and identity—but the script turns them into one-dimensional caricatures. The supposed “emotional tension” between Mantis and Jae-yi never evolves beyond a few frustrated glances and awkward silences. What could have been a layered, tragic bond becomes a shallow subplot, and the performances swing wildly between blank detachment and visible overacting to compensate for the thin material.

Stylistically, Mantis looks fine. It's sleek, modern, and clearly benefiting from the Netflix production budget, but underneath the polish, it’s hollow. It feels like someone took a potentially great adult thriller and retooled it for a teen audience. The love story is there, but there’s nothing behind it, no real weight or consequence. And when the big climax arrives, it lands with a thud. My reaction was basically, “That’s it?”—never what you want to feel as the credits roll.

Fun in stretches, sure. But in the end, Mantis is the definition of middle-of-the-road: entertaining enough to finish, forgettable the moment it ends. Slick on the outside, empty within. Like a blade with no edge.

Mantis (2025)

https://jackmeat.com/mantis-2025/

Sincerely Saul (2024) | A painfully awkward dark comedy where nothing goes right, and not in a fun way. For me, more sighs than laughs. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 4.3/10. Stuck in a dreary black-and-white world that matches his mood, Saul (Ryan Schafer) has one goal before turning 27—lose his virginity or check out of life entirely. That is our setup for Sincerely Saul, and nothing screams “date material” like a countdown to suicide, right? Director Ian Tripp takes us on this monochrome misadventure through the miserable milestones of a socially inept man-child, all while Grandma’s bedridden commentary provides the most consistent emotional support in the film.

We open with Saul’s botched suicide attempt—basically the film saying, “Hey, buckle up, this ride is equal parts cringe and pity.” It immediately brought to mind Better Off Dead, except instead of John Cusack’s charm, we get Saul’s thousand-yard stare of confusion. The movie is structured like a journal of misery: day after day, Saul sulks, sighs, and awkwardly avoids human interaction. He’s like a sad Charlie Brown if Charlie Brown gave up on finding happiness and decided to live in an A24 student project.

Amber Grayson’s Joni deserves credit for giving the only believable reactions in the movie—her constant “why am I here?” face mirrors the audience’s own. The humor tries, it really does, but you can almost hear it groaning from the effort. There’s an attempted meet-cute, a scene with a Luchador that telegraphs its disappointment miles away, and a slow-burn meltdown that you’d hope ends in glorious chaos. Spoiler: it doesn’t. Not even a little bloodshed for the horror fans among us. And no, Saul doesn’t sprout wings and fly to Iceland, though at this point that might’ve been a mercy.

Instead, we get tantrums, awkward silences, and one fever dream of a scene that features what looks suspiciously like a giant head monster. Sadly, that’s as close as this movie gets to horror. The black-and-white cinematography is a neat stylistic choice—like frosting on a stale cake—but it can’t disguise the fact that nothing much happens beyond emotional implosion and secondhand embarrassment.

Still, buried under the weirdness are some funny beats and oddball ideas (I’m looking at you, forest fire subplot that goes nowhere). It’s an indie experiment with flashes of promise—like Saul himself, it keeps waiting for something better to happen but never quite gets there.

I thought it was too depressing to be funny, too weird to be touching, and too slow to be thrilling. But if you’ve ever wondered what it looks like when existential dread meets forced humor, Sincerely Saul has you covered.

Sincerely Saul (2024)

And seriously—thanks to Dan Butler for sending over the screener. I’ve seen worse. (Trust me, I’ve seen worse.)

https://jackmeat.com/sincerely-saul-2024/

Hallow Road (2025) | Two parents take the world’s calmest panic drive while their daughter’s stuck in a #Shocktober movie she didn’t mean to star in. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 5.6/10. Hallow Road creeps in quietly, building tension through silence and suggestion rather than spectacle. Director Babak Anvari, known for turning everyday dread into existential unease, takes a minimalist approach here, delivering what feels like a cross between a psychological thriller, an audio play, and a parental nightmare.

The setup is deceptively simple: in the dead of night, a married couple—Frank (Matthew Rhys) and Maddie (Rosamund Pike)—are jolted awake by a desperate phone call from their teenage daughter, Alice (voiced by Megan McDonnell). She’s taken her dad’s car without permission, crashed it on a desolate woodland road, and hit someone, or something, on the way. With no visuals of Alice and only her trembling voice to guide them, the film follows her parents as they drive the forty-odd miles to find her, the entire journey unfolding in real time.

That’s both the film’s greatest strength and its biggest gamble. It’s a bold concept: essentially a two-person chamber piece on wheels, where every passing mile ramps up the psychological tension between the couple as much as it does the suspense about what awaits them at the crash site. Rhys and Pike carry the film effortlessly; their brittle chemistry and simmering resentment give the trip a claustrophobic emotional charge. They’re believable as two people long past affection but still bound by shared panic over their child. Without them, this whole experiment would stall in the first ten minutes.

What keeps Hallow Road compelling is its suggestive horror—the kind that crawls under your skin, not through jump scares or monsters, but through what isn’t shown. The fear is entirely situational and psychological, the kind of horror any parent could imagine: helplessness, guilt, and the gnawing uncertainty of whether your child is safe, or sane. The real-time pacing adds authenticity but also tests patience. Some viewers will find the method hypnotic; others may just find it slow. And honestly, a bit of both reactions is valid.

Where the film falters is in its lack of urgency. For parents racing to their child’s potential disaster, Frank and Maddie are oddly composed, almost too composed. There are stretches where their conversation feels like a Sunday drive rather than a frantic rescue. It undercuts the realism, even if Anvari’s deliberate tempo is meant to keep tension simmering rather than boiling.

Still, the movie lingers. Like his earlier work Wounds, Anvari again leaves audiences with an ambiguous ending, one that invites multiple interpretations rather than delivering a cathartic conclusion. It’s more satisfying this time around, though still a touch frustrating if you prefer firm answers.

Hallow Road (2025)

Ultimately, Hallow Road is an unnerving, well-acted experiment in slow-burn suspense. Its realism and emotional depth keep it entertaining, even when the pacing drifts. It’s a film that unsettles through what it implies, not what it shows. While that may not thrill everyone, it’s undeniably powerful in its quietest moments.

https://jackmeat.com/hallow-road-2025/

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/