Afterburn (2025) | Afterburn delivers a predictable postapocalyptic treasure hunt saved only by its cast, brief brutal action and Slovakian wasteland vibes. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 4.9/10. Set in a scorched future where the Eastern Hemisphere has been fried to a crisp by a solar flare, Afterburn imagines a postapocalyptic Earth where radiation, fallout, and desperation have turned survival into a scavenger sport. Society may have collapsed, but apparently art history still has some die-hard collectors, because the plot follows treasure hunters tasked with recovering artifacts like the Mona Lisa, the Rosetta Stone, and the Crown Jewels. Civilization is gone, but Sotheby’s is still spiritually alive.

The film kicks off with Dave Bautista’s gravelly narration laying out the state of the world and his role in it. Bautista plays Jake, a rugged artifact retriever hired by King August—played by Samuel L. Jackson, whose casting probably did more heavy lifting than the script itself. Jackson doesn’t get a ton to do, but he brings just enough regal swagger to make “King August” feel less like a video game NPC and more like an actual post-collapse power player.

Jake teams up with Drea, played by Olga Kurylenko, who action fans likely just watched in Thunderbolts*—maybe the producers are counting on that familiarity to fill in whatever the screenplay didn’t. Their mission is to reclaim the Mona Lisa, but of course, rival hunters, mutants, and opportunistic pirates are waiting in the wings to complicate things. The setup plays like a mash-up of Mad Max, Indiana Jones and a Syfy original, just with a slightly better wardrobe budget.

One of the early surprises is an old-school chase scene that actually uses real vehicles. For a moment, you think you’ve stumbled into a 1990s throwback, and then the CGI explosions show up to remind you that post-production can still ruin practical ambition. Tanks fire, debris flies, and it’s fun enough, but the fake blasts are obvious from space. Maybe the same solar flare that nuked the planet took out the effects department, too.

Filmed in Slovakia, the landscapes do a lot of visual heavy lifting. The movie sells its apocalyptic decay fairly well, even if the overall tone gives off strong STS “straight-to-streaming” energy despite its limited theatrical run. The production design screams “budget-conscious bleakness,” but it works.

There’s an ultra-violent gunfight later in the film that actually jolts the movie to life. It’s slick, brutal and stylish—so of course it lasts only a few minutes and never really returns. Had the rest of the action matched that energy, we’d be talking about a very different film.

As expected, there’s a double cross, because what is a treasure-hunting movie without one? The script tries to sprinkle in morality and reflection after that twist, but with four writers credited, you’d think at least one of them could’ve punched up the dialogue or added something less predictable. The chemistry between Bautista and Kurylenko works well enough, and the cast in general keeps this thing from collapsing into total mediocrity.

Without this lineup, Afterburn would have burned out on reentry. The action is serviceable until overproduced effects intrude, the world-building is fine but familiar, and the story unfolds exactly the way I assumed it would within the first ten minutes. It’s popcorn-worthy the first time, but you’ll never feel the need to revisit it or rescue it from any wasteland vault.

Afterburn (2025)

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

Band on the Run (2024) | When a Detroit band drags their difficult dad on the road to SXSW, chaos, grudges, and unexpected heart follow. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 6.2/10. Band on the Run rolls onto the screen with a musical intro that immediately sets the tone: scrappy, chaotic, and dripping with late-’90s Detroit garage rock energy. We’re introduced to Jessie (Matthew Perl), whose creative spark is slowly being smothered by his dead-end advertising job. He fronts the Hot Freaks from behind the drums, a band with dreams bigger than their gas fund, and patience shorter than a punk set. Home life’s no better—his mother has bailed, and his father, Thomas (Larry Bagby) is a chronically ill, insufferable grump whose self-righteousness is only matched by his talent for antagonizing anyone within shouting range.

Their big break—sort of—comes when arrogant rival band Bull Roar tricks them into trekking down to South by Southwest. Instead of ditching Thomas at a nursing home where an ambulance is literally parked out front (a pretty decent sign to keep walking), the band inexplicably hauls him along for the ride. Maybe Jessie has a hospital phobia, maybe it’s guilt, or maybe Jeff Hupp knew Thomas was the only one with actual character depth. Either way, the guy turns out to be the only one who remembers that music is supposed to matter more than the payout.

The film sprinkles in comedy through petty sabotage—most notably stealing Bull Roar’s mic stand and swapping van signage. Advertising your rivals is an odd tactical move, but somehow it works out to their benefit. The mic stand gag pays off more than it has any right to, especially since the Hot Freaks hit the road without a dollar to rub together. These guys are busking their way to Austin with blind optimism and no plan B, and honestly, it fits.

What sets the tone apart is the attempt to blend heartfelt family drama with road-trip absurdity. The dynamic between Thomas and the band shifts from annoyance to reluctant respect, and surprisingly, the old man becomes the moral compass. Hupp hints at the “lesson learned” template early on—there are only so many van breakdowns, medical scares, and cheap motels you can cram in before someone has to grow up.

The rivalry itself never becomes the big explosive showdown you might expect. Fans mostly taunt them through message board posts, a charmingly retro touch that anchors the story firmly in 1999. The showdown at SXSW fizzles visually—the crowd looks more like a Tuesday open mic than a hyped MTV-adjacent event. In the era of Farmclub.com, they should’ve packed the house, not a coffee shop.

Still, what keeps the film upright is the cast chemistry. Everyone feels like they belong in this band or at least in this mess, and that cohesion helps smooth over the tonal wobbles. There’s a genuine sweetness beneath the hijinks, especially as the father’s health issues creep closer to the center of the story. The tone bounces between goofy and earnest often enough that some viewers may wish it would just pick a lane, but the blend gives it a playful charm.

“Band on the Run” won’t blow your amps, but it lands as a modestly funny, unexpectedly warm road movie that cares more about hugs than hooks. The music takes a backseat, the rivalry is mostly digital, and the finale trades fire for feelings—but for a story rooted in garage rock chaos, that’s almost poetic. Thanks to Jeff Hupp for sending this one over, allowing me to take a little trip back with the band.

Band on the Run (2025)

https://jackmeat.com/band-on-the-run-2024/

Madame Web (2024) | This flick has a major identity crisis and is kind of a mess, but the cast elevates it over what you may have heard. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 4.0/10. Oh, I have not heard good things about this one. Tooling around in a stolen car, wanted for kidnapping, I am SURE jumping on a plane to Peru would be NO problem LOL. Madame Web arrived in theaters with high expectations, thanks to its Marvel connection and promising cast. However, what unfolds on the screen is a disappointing and disjointed mess that fails to live up to its potential.

The film follows paramedic Cassandra Webb (Dakota Johnson) as she finds herself entangled in a web of intrigue and danger after being implicated in a kidnapping and forced to flee the authorities. Seeking refuge in Peru, Cassandra is forced to confront shocking revelations about her past while forming an unlikely bond with three young women whose destinies are intertwined with her own.

Despite boasting a talented ensemble cast, including some recognizable names, including the flavor of the week, Sydney Sweeney, and talented Emma Roberts, it squanders its resources with lackluster execution. The characters, including Cassandra and the trio of young women, are woefully underdeveloped, leaving you struggling to make any connection with their journeys or care what their fate may be.

One of the film's most glaring flaws is its identity crisis. At its core, it seems torn between different genres and tones, unsure of whether it wants to be a gritty crime thriller or a mystical supernatural drama. This lack of focus leaves you with a disjointed story with plot threads dangling haphazardly and unresolved questions littering the story.

Adding insult to injury is the film's sluggish pacing, which drags the already muddled narrative to a grinding halt. Scenes linger interminably, sapping Madame Web of any momentum it might have had, and left me checking my watch in anticipation of the credits. While it attempts to inject some intrigue with its revelations about Cassandra's past and the mysterious connection between the four women, it does occasionally throw a few decent action scenes in that utilize Cassandra's power, which went mostly unused.

In conclusion, the flick is a disappointing misfire that squanders its potential with poor execution and misguided ambition. If it weren't for the talented cast, the film would've been even a bigger bomb than it already was. But I will disagree with everyone who calls this the worst movie ever made. It is FAR from that, and even though it is frustrating how bad it turned out, it is still slightly entertaining. I personally watch, I would say a movie a WEEK that is FAR worse than this, so don't go following the sheep and claim it as some anomaly of failure. Disappointing, yes, but I think way too many people set their expectations entirely too high.

Madame Web (2024)

https://jackmeat.com/madame-web-2024/

Adulthood (2025) | Two clueless siblings find a corpse, make every wrong choice imaginable, and drag their eccentric family into a mildly amusing dark disaster. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 5.4/10. Adulthood sets itself up with a potentially fun premise with two adult siblings discovering a corpse hidden in their childhood home and immediately deciding the responsible thing to do is—of course—dump it in a lake. Calling the police? Don’t be ridiculous. Josh Gad plays Noah, a man whose every line sounds like it was workshopped in a panic room, and Kaya Scodelario steps in as Meg, whose moral compass points mostly toward self-preservation. The two have the chemistry of people who haven't spoken since their last shared therapist, yet they somehow agree on the worst possible course of action at every turn.

The movie opens with promise, but the script—courtesy of Michael M.B. Galvin—often feels like it was written on a dare to see how far characters can push stupidity before losing all audience sympathy. Spoiler: it doesn't take long. The dialogue is frequently painful, the kind of stupid that isn't clever enough to be satire and not grounded enough to be believable. If anyone thought I’d muster empathy for these two, they were wildly optimistic. Their decision-making is so baffling that when things begin to spiral, it feels less like tragedy or dark comedy and more like karmic housekeeping.

Naturally, their brilliant lake-dumping plan goes exactly as it should: poorly and with escalating consequences. Enter Bodie, played by Anthony Carrigan, who is easily the standout and seems to be the only one truly having fun. He’s brought in as the “scary criminal guy,” specifically to intimidate a nurse (Billie Lourd) who has the audacity to question their nonsense. Carrigan walks away with every scene he’s in, delivering the kind of deadpan menace the movie desperately needed more of. Lourd holds her own, though she spends most of her time reacting to idiocy with increasing disbelief, a feeling I deeply related to.

The tonal shift in the back half is welcome, as the film finally stops pretending it's a quirky sibling caper and embraces darker territory. Bodies stack higher than I anticipated, which at least gives the chaos some bite. Director Alex Winter clearly wanted to flirt with full-on pitch-black comedy, and for a while it seems like he's gearing up to commit. Unfortunately, the ending eases off the gas just when it should slam the accelerator through the floor. It’s not timid, exactly, but it hesitates, like it suddenly remembered it might still want a streaming audience.

What keeps the movie watchable is the cast chemistry, even when the script sinks them. Gad never earns an ounce of sympathy; his character is annoying enough that I rooted for the lake to claim him. Scodelario fares better, and Meg becomes marginally tolerable as things snowball, though I’d never follow her lead in a crisis. The jokes often strain for effect, and you can feel the writers begging for laughs that don’t quite land.

In the end, Adulthood is a passable dark comedy with a stronger second half and a sense of humor that tries way too hard. It’s mildly entertaining, occasionally sharp, but ultimately a one-and-done watch. The title may be Adulthood, but these characters are graduates of the Bad Decisions Academy with honors—and not in a way that makes me root for a sequel.

Adulthood (2025)

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

Dark Sanctuary: The Story of The Church (2025) | Enter without prejudice into the story of The Church, Dallas’ legendary goth/industrial club, where wild nights and a lasting legacy were built. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 6.8/10. Every city has that one club that grows into more than just a venue—it becomes a sanctuary. For Dallas, that was The Church, the goth/industrial mainstay that opened in 1994 and welcomed generations of misfits. Dark Sanctuary: The Story of The Church, directed by Timothy Stevens, tells how it came to life, what it meant to its community, and why its legacy still matters.

The story begins with Don Nedler, who first ran the Lizard Lounge in Dallas before trying his luck in Miami. That attempt failed, but not before he discovered Velvet, a club with a darker night called “Church.” Returning home, he reimagined the idea and struck gold. The Church’s slogan—“Enter without prejudice”—wasn’t just marketing. It was a promise: gender, orientation, or taste didn’t matter. If you didn’t belong anywhere else, you belonged here.

When I first got to Dallas, checking out Deep Ellum’s music and nightlife scene was mandatory. Being a fan of KMFDM, Ministry, and Skinny Puppy, The Church felt like a natural stop. This documentary finally shows how the place came together. Interviews with figures like Bill Leeb of Front Line Assembly and Patrick Codenys of Front 242 add weight, while DJ Joe Virus, one of the club’s key players, anchors much of the story.

The film touches briefly on the stereotype that goth culture is tied to suicide, but thankfully doesn’t linger. More compelling are the supernatural stories—like Joe Virus’s encounters with a ghost on stage, and the possibly haunted chandelier, surprisingly bought back for only $7,000. The Church also embraced the fetish scene with its legendary Fetish Ball, pulling in the BDSM community while staying true to its “all are welcome” ethos.

Watching this brought me back to other underground clubs I’ve hunted down over the years. Purgatory outside of Ft Lauderdale was a blast. Miami had Club Hell, which you could only find if locals pointed you toward Club Cream first. Chicago offered Nocturna at the Metro, and another short-lived spot simply called Hell. Like The Church, each carried that same mix of secrecy, freedom, and community. I've noticed while checking for links that most of these no longer exist.

Naturally, COVID shows up in the final act, and as expected, it shuttered the venue. At least the community was invited back for one last farewell. Today, the It’ll Do Club carries the torch, though anyone who stepped inside the original knows that vibe can’t be copied. Don't miss your chance to visit your favorite, you never know when it will be gone.

Dark Sanctuary: The Story of The Church (2025)

Stevens does a good job threading the history and personalities, though the documentary plays things a bit safe, considering the wild stories that likely stayed behind closed doors. Still, as a time capsule of a place where outsiders finally felt at home, Dark Sanctuary captures the spirit of a club that mattered.

https://jackmeat.com/dark-sanctuary-the-story-of-the-church-2025/

The Fantastic 4: First Steps (2025) | Marvel’s First Family returns in a colorful, retro adventure that favors character and family over spectacle, with a few cosmic surprises. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 6.9/10. Marvel’s First Family finally takes center stage in The Fantastic 4: First Steps, and director Matt Shakman plants them in a world that feels both familiar and refreshingly different. Against a vibrant 1960s-inspired retro-futuristic backdrop, this version of the team pops with color and imagination. The film avoids Marvel’s recent tendency to overstuff, instead keeping the focus on establishing its characters. At times, that works beautifully, though it also makes the movie feel more like a prologue than a fully satisfying adventure.

Casting is a highlight. Pedro Pascal gives Reed Richards the mix of authority and warmth the role demands. Vanessa Kirby shines as Sue Storm, balancing maternal strength with heroism. Ebon Moss-Bachrach adds strength and humor as Ben Grimm, while Joseph Quinn makes Johnny Storm a lively, cocky spark, and this time a brain as well. Even HERBIE, the team’s robotic sidekick, earns his spot, dodging the “gimmick” label by actually adding some usefulness.

One of the most memorable sequences arrives when Sue gives birth to Franklin—in space. It’s a bold, weirdly delightful moment that reinforces the film’s emphasis on family. Introducing Franklin right away also signals Marvel’s long-term plans, and the scene itself ends up more memorable than some of the big action beats. Only The Fantastic 4: First Steps could turn childbirth into a cosmic event.

The villains don’t fare quite as well. Galactus towers with visual grandeur but never feels threatening, a problem when you’re dealing with a literal world-eater. Silver Surfer makes an appearance but has little screen time, feeling more like a teaser than a real player. Fans who remember Doug Jones in Rise of the Silver Surfer may find this version underwhelming, though it fits the film’s “first step” vibe.

The pacing is another mixed bag. There are fun character moments and bursts of energy, but certain stretches drag or feel disconnected. The tension is light, and the emotional stakes never quite soar. On the plus side, the story doesn’t bog down in recycled origins or endless multiverse cameos. It keeps things simple, easy to follow, and refreshingly contained.

What really works is Shakman’s touch. He strikes a smart balance between science fiction and superhero spectacle, giving each frame a deliberate style that leans into the retro aesthetic. The film stands on its own while still planting the tiniest seeds for Phase 6 in the after-credits scene. It’s clear Marvel is stepping back from overcomplication and rediscovering the strength of simplicity.

The Fantastic Four: First Steps (2025)

The Fantastic 4: First Steps isn’t a knockout, but it’s a visually impressive, character-driven reintroduction to Marvel’s most important family. Going in expecting failure, I was glad to see it sets the foundation, reminds us this is ultimately a story about family bonds, and even manages to welcome a new member into zero gravity. As first steps go, I think it’s solid—now let’s see where the journey leads.

https://jackmeat.com/the-fantastic-4-first-steps-2025/

Legion (2010) | When God loses faith in humanity, angels attack a desert diner in this flawed yet entertaining mashup of action, horror, and apocalypse. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 5.7/10. This one has been languishing in the depths of my watchlist for years. Until now. Legion sets up a premise that sounds wild on paper: God loses faith in humanity and sends his angels to wipe us out. The only thing standing in their way is the Archangel Michael (Paul Bettany), who turns against the divine plan to protect the unborn child of a diner waitress (Adrianne Palicki). Humanity’s last hope, apparently, comes down to a dusty roadside diner, a pregnant waitress, and a ragtag bunch of survivors.

The ensemble trapped in the diner is stacked with familiar faces, including Dennis Quaid, Tyrese Gibson, Charles S. Dutton, and Kevin Durand. Bettany does his stoic angel bit well enough, but it’s Dutton and Durand who steal their scenes. Unfortunately, neither of them gets nearly as much screen time as they should. The film squanders them, along with the promise of its setup.

The opening stretch is easily the strongest part of the film. The scene with Gladys (Jeanette Miller)—a sweet old lady who suddenly sprouts sharp teeth and starts cursing like a demon while violently attacking customers—is a fantastic stage setter. I thought it was the beginning of a truly nasty “survival horror” flick. The weird ice cream truck sequence that follows, rolling up in the middle of the night, just adds to the creepy tension. For a while, you think you’re in for something that blends biblical apocalypse with grindhouse horror.

And then, the movie changes gears. Instead of sticking with its horror roots, it veers into action territory. Think shoot-em-up horror crossed with a graphic novel, with angels instead of demons. On a surface level, it’s entertaining, guns blazing, monsters attacking, humanity under siege. But the story is thinner than the desert air around that diner. The dialogue is clunky, exposition-heavy, and often laughably unimaginative. Characters feel like archetypes instead of people, which makes it hard to care about their survival.

Still, there are things to appreciate. The film’s twisted religious overtones give it a unique flavor, and the production design has flashes of creativity. Bettany commits fully, and the action scenes are handled with enough energy to keep you from zoning out. It’s a B-action movie at heart, dressed up with apocalyptic flair. If you take it as pure entertainment and overlook the plot holes you could drive a semi through, it has its charms.

In the end, Legion is basically Terminator with angels instead of cyborgs. It’s not a great film, but it’s not without entertainment value. If you’re in the mood for religiously twisted action-horror with a graphic novel vibe, it might scratch the itch. Just don’t expect depth—it’s all smoke, bullets, and wings.

Legion (2010)

https://jackmeat.com/legion-2010/

It's Coming (2023) | Shannon Alexander’s It’s Coming avoids Hollywood gloss, capturing Ashley Roland’s chilling experiences in a straightforward, quietly unnerving documentary style. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 5.9/10. Ashley Roland, a wife and mother of five, has been dealing with supernatural disturbances since childhood. When she moves back into her family’s ancestral Brooklyn apartment, the strange events she’s lived with for decades begin to unfold again—but this time, her children are also pulled into the experience. It’s Coming follows Ashley and her family as they attempt to confront the malevolent presence in their home, supported by various paranormal “specialists” along the way.

I’ll admit upfront that I am especially critical of films like this. Having seen a ghost myself—and knowing exactly why it was there—I approach paranormal documentaries with a fair amount of skepticism. One day, I may get around to sharing my own story, but for now, the focus is on this film.

This isn’t a dramatization with CGI shadows and jump-scare sound design. Instead, director Shannon Alexander plays things straight, delivering a documentary-style narration about a family plagued by what they believe is a demon. That decision works in the film’s favor—it doesn’t feel like it’s trying to manipulate the audience with cheap tricks. Unfortunately, that restraint doesn’t apply to everyone involved.

Enter Soledad Haren, the medium who does a walk-through of the house. She never comes across as genuine or authoritative, and her scenes add little more than filler. When It's Coming sticks to the real, unnerving aspects of the haunting—the untraceable foul odor firefighters and maintenance couldn’t explain, or the constant small disturbances like things falling and unexplained banging—it’s much stronger. Paranormal or not, those events would be terrifying in anyone’s home.

But then come the less convincing methods. Using a piece of string to “communicate” with spirits? Too many variables could sway the outcome. And when the drag Hasbro's Ouija board into the mix (yes, the family briefly tries a toy for communication), it’s hard not to laugh. Thankfully, Alexander doesn’t lean on that too heavily. Some of the audio recordings they capture are unsettling, though the explanation that ghosts communicate on a frequency humans can’t hear—but microphones can—doesn’t hold much water scientifically.

Javier, one of the participants, does seem genuine in befriending a spirit named Katie, though scenes with him and mediums unfortunately drag down the credibility. Things really dip when podcasters and paranormal “gadgets” enter the picture. Chris DeFlorio’s segment, in particular, derails the tone, turning what had been a raw portrait of a haunted family into something closer to a low-budget reality show. I mentioned using toys, DeFlorio busts out his Xbox Kinect to track the ghouls. Oddly enough, the haunting doesn’t even stop after their intervention, which at least keeps the film from suggesting that the dog-and-pony show solved anything.

The strongest aspect of It's Coming is that it doesn’t push you to believe, nor does it sensationalize the family’s suffering. Alexander’s direction wisely avoids unnecessary spectacle, presenting the Rolands’ situation plainly and without shock tactics. This flick will likely disappoint you if you’re a fan of flashy paranormal investigation shows. But if you’re genuinely curious about what a “real” haunting might look like when stripped of Hollywood gloss, this documentary is worth a watch.

It's Coming (2023)

And finally, a thank-you to Shannon Alexander for getting in touch and allowing me to check this one out.

https://jackmeat.com/its-coming-2023/

Prisoner of War (2025) | Scott Adkins delivers hard-hitting action within a WWII prison camp drama, though weak supporting characters make the escape less impactful. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 6.3/10. Prisoner of War feels like a movie that time-traveled straight out of Jean-Claude Van Damme’s 90s heyday with sweaty martial arts battles, one primary location, and a determined underdog fighter who refuses to stay down. Only this time it’s Scott Adkins running the show. He doesn’t just star; he also wrote and produced the film, clearly making this a passion project. The result? A brutal and entertaining martial arts war drama that plays to his strengths while occasionally showing its limitations.

The premise is straightforward: British RAF Wing Commander James Wright (Adkins) is captured by the Japanese during WWII and forced into violent hand-to-hand combat. His martial arts background—explained through years of training in Hong Kong—makes him both a target and a star attraction for the camp’s cruel general, played with chilling control by Peter Shinkoda. We have to take that with a grain of salt since, at that time, it was forbidden for Asian senseis to teach their respective martial arts to Westerners. The prison camp setting works in the film’s favor. It’s cost-effective, sure, but it also creates a tense and claustrophobic backdrop where each fight feels like it could be Wright’s last.

And let’s be clear, the fights deliver. Adkins opens the film with an adrenaline-pumping martial arts scene, and they keep coming. The choreography is crisp, grounded, and shot in a way that respects both the performers and the audience. None of that shaky-cam nonsense, just well-executed brawls that showcase Adkins at the top of his game. The film wisely avoids the video game progression trope (one boss fighter after another, each bigger and badder). Instead, when one soldier fails, the general throws three more at him, or simply beats him first. It feels more authentic to what might actually happen in a POW camp, though admittedly, it’s less flashy than the cinematic escalation I’ve been conditioned to expect.

Where the film stumbles is in its supporting characters. The other POWs are fine in their roles, but there’s little emotional investment in them. When the story shifts toward escape, it’s hard to care much about who makes it out alive aside from Adkins himself. That lack of attachment dulls the impact of what should have been a tense and emotional sequence.

Still, this is very much a Scott Adkins showcase, and on that front, it succeeds. He gets to flex both his martial arts and his dramatic chops, while Shinkoda gives him a formidable screen partner to play off. And while I can’t spoil anything, I will say this: the ending had me wondering one very practical thing—how exactly do they land that thing?

Prisoner of War surely does not reinvent the genre, but it blends martial arts action with wartime drama in a way that feels both nostalgic and fresh. If you’re part of the Adkins faithful, you’ll get exactly what you came for.

Prisoner of War (2025)

https://jackmeat.com/prisoner-of-war-2025/

Bury Me When I'm Dead (2025) | A movie where the scariest thing isn’t the ghost of your dead wife, but the fact I watched until the end. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 3.7/10. Some movies start with a bang. Bury Me When I’m Dead starts with cancer, a summer home in New Hampshire, and a dying request for a hippie forest burial. Not exactly fireworks. Catherine (Charlotte Hope) wants to go out in nature’s arms, probably under a pine tree, while deer sing Kumbaya. When she explains her scenario, you will wish my Kumbaya example were correct. Her husband, Henry (Devon Terrell), however, decides the best way to honor her dying wish is to completely ignore it, shovel her into the family plot instead, and then go back to cheating on her with Rebecca (Makenzie Leigh). Class act.

Naturally, Henry’s father-in-law, Gary (Richard Bekins)—a man so warm he makes icebergs seem snuggly—warns him not to play games with the burial. But since Henry’s decision-making skills hover somewhere between “drunk raccoon” and “openly guilty toddler,” he goes ahead anyway. The penalty? Gary cuts him off from the inheritance. It never mattered what decision Gary made. Catherine, meanwhile, seems to cut him off from sanity.

Now, if you’re expecting a corpse-crawling, bone-snapping horror show where Catherine claws her way out of the dirt and throttles Henry and his mistress—you’re out of luck. This is more like Paranormal Activity: The Paint is Drying. Strange creaks, bad dreams, shadows that probably just need a dusting. The movie wants us to feel Henry’s guilt, but since he spends most of the runtime staring like a deer that just discovered taxes, it’s hard to feel much besides impatience.

There is one standout moment: Buck (Mike Houston), an old friend who pops in for a couple of scenes to deliver a rambling, out-of-place conversation with Henry that feels like it wandered in from another movie entirely. It’s bizarre, but I’ll admit, it made me laugh. Which is more than I can say for the intended scares.

As a slow-burning character study of grief and betrayal, the film almost works. The acting is solid enough, but the pacing makes molasses look fast. And with so little actually happening onscreen, you start to wonder if maybe Catherine is haunting the editor’s scissors instead of her husband.

Still, the ending does manage to land with a darkly satisfying thud—one that finally feels like a payoff for sitting through the world’s slowest ghost story. And it saved this flick from scoring even lower. Just don’t go in expecting horror fireworks. You’ll get more chills from forgetting to pay your electric bill.

Bury Me When I'm Dead (2025)

https://jackmeat.com/bury-me-when-im-dead-2025/

The Life of Chuck (2025) | A surreal, heartfelt tale told in reverse, The Life of Chuck celebrates the randomness that makes life worth living. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 7.5/10. Mike Flanagan has carved out a space for himself as the guy who can adapt Stephen King without mangling it, and The Life of Chuck is further proof of that. Based on King’s short story from If It Bleeds, the film is equal parts surreal, heartfelt, and quietly devastating. It’s one of those movies that sneaks up on you—an extraordinary story about an ordinary man, Charles “Chuck” Krantz, who experiences the beauty, heartbreak, and randomness of existence.

The film takes a deliberately unconventional approach, telling Chuck’s story out of order, beginning with Act 3: Thanks Chuck. Here, the world seems to be unraveling, though no one can quite explain why. We meet various characters, all just as baffled by the mysterious Chuck Krantz and his 39-year anniversary as the audience is. Chiwetel Ejiofor shines as Marty Anderson, grounding the confusion with gravitas. Flanagan uses this section to steep us in unease—questions without answers, quiet panic, and the suggestion that something much larger than us is at work.

Nick Offerman provides narration throughout, a wise and steadying voice that manages to guide us through the odd structure without overexplaining. His tone fits perfectly, offering a thread of continuity as we move backward in time to Act 2: Buskers Forever. This section has its own strange energy, anchored by Tom Hiddleston, who throws himself into a street performance with such abandon you can’t help but smile. In one of the film’s more charmingly absurd moments, a passerby just so happens to know the dance routine he’s busting out—because what’s a heartfelt story without a little bit of movie magic?

Finally, we arrive at Act 1: I Contain Multitudes. After all the heaviness and surrealism, this chapter delivers a heartfelt gut punch in the form of young Chuck (Benjamin Pajak) and his grandmother, played with warmth by Trinity Jo-Li Bliss. Their dance scene together is pure joy, the kind of moment that feels small yet contains an entire world of meaning. Honestly, after Chuck pulled out those moves at school, he’d have been the most popular kid in class. The sequence captures the innocence and wonder of youth in a way that sticks with you.

The ensemble is uniformly strong—adults and kids alike give it their all. Mark Hamill, in a role that could easily be overlooked, delivers a superb turn as Chuck’s grandfather. His presence adds a quiet weight to the film, reminding us that life’s meaning is often passed down through fleeting, seemingly insignificant moments.

What makes The Life of Chuck work is how it embraces life’s randomness. It acknowledges that what shapes us often feels arbitrary: a glance, a laugh, a loss, a song. Yet it’s in these moments—good, bad, and mundane—that the essence of who we are emerges. Flanagan, once again, shows he’s not just a horror director but one of contemporary cinema’s great horror directors.

The Life of Chuck (2025)

It’s a beautiful, tender film about the value of life itself. A shame it didn’t get a wider release, because this is one worth being seen and felt.

https://jackmeat.com/the-life-of-chuck-2025/

Spiral Drive (2020) | Appalachian aliens force two wannabe filmmakers to keep rolling. Found footage clichés aside, Spiral Drive goes places you don’t expect. #jackmeatsflix

My quick rating - 3.9/10. Two estranged friends hit the road to shoot a feature film. That’s already a red flag—nobody ever makes good decisions when cameras are rolling in the middle of nowhere. Sure enough, instead of coming back with a script, Will (Erik Fitzpatrick) and Evan (Ben Rutz) end up snatched by some Appalachian cryptid that apparently moonlights as a tour guide through a forest labyrinth. Nothing says reconciliation quite like trying not to get shocked in Spiral Drive.

Credit where it’s due: Fitzpatrick and Rutz sell their friendship (or lack thereof) pretty well. If they aren’t buddies in real life, they should be, because their banter comes off natural—annoying, but natural. If they are real friends, then well, they’ve got years of practice sniping at each other. Either way, it works.

And yes, folks, it’s found footage. Because why not? Nothing screams “authentic horror” quite like shaky cam in the dark and lots of heavy breathing. Still, I’ll give Spiral Drive this: it actually bothers to explain why they don’t just drop the damn camera and run. In this case, the creature wants them to keep filming, like a twisted director forcing reshoots. Finally, a half-plausible reason why people cling to their camcorders while being chased through the woods.

Of course, there are some glaring issues. When our heroes realized they were lost, maybe stopping at the strip mall or one of the nearby residential houses would’ve been a smarter option than venturing down a sketchy dirt road that screams “alien buffet ahead.” Uneven pacing? Absolutely. Dragging scenes? Definitely. But hey, it has imagination, and for someone who usually loathes this genre with the fire of a thousand suns, my not tearing it apart is high praise.

The real takeaway here: somebody needs to give Fitzpatrick a budget. Not because I think he’d make a masterpiece, but because one, I’d like to see what he could actually pull off with some resources—and two, it would get him off camera. His character was by far the one I was rooting for the aliens to probe into oblivion.

In the end, Spiral Drive is like finding a VHS tape under your car seat that costs more to rewind than to make. It’s not good, but it’s not completely hopeless either. If this movie had a $50 million budget? Easy—knock three points off my score. Since there is no trailer on YouTube, here is the entire movie. Check it out since this was uploaded by the creators. So it shouldn't be taken down for any illegal reasons.

Spiral Drive (2020)

https://jackmeat.com/spiral-drive-2020/

Cast looks good, sex is plentiful, but the story’s missing in action—Honey Don’t! is a stylish noir curiosity without a case. #jackmeatsflix...

My quick rating – 5.2/10. Bakersfield, 2024. A city that looks like it’s been dressed by a drunk vintage store clerk with half neon vape shops, half smoky jazz clubs that should’ve been condemned in ’48. And in the middle of it all, Honey O’Donahue, a private investigator with two desires, one of them being justice. The other? Well, you’ll find out well before the halfway mark of Honey Don’t! and let’s just say it doesn’t involve a magnifying glass.

Margaret Qualley slips into Honey’s trench coat, fresh from The Substance and ready to squint into the Bakersfield sun like she means business. She’s got the chops, but the movie gives her more bedroom eyes than detective clues. Aubrey Plaza shows up as MG Falcone, an officer of the law and part-time sex toy, because apparently the precinct handbook allows that now. Plaza does her usual dry, sardonic thing, which works great until you realize she’s mostly here to service the script’s hormonal urges. And then there’s Chris Evans, holier-than-thou, sex-crazed Reverend Devlin, who chews his lines like they’re communion wafers dipped in bourbon. Could everyone be exactly as they seem?

The setup promised a noir mystery: a string of strange deaths tied to a church, a P.I. (“dick” would sound weird with the sexual undertones LOL) trying to untangle it, and a detective who can’t wrap his head around the concept of lesbians. But instead of a casebook, we get a scrapbook of sex scenes, all stitched together by Ethan Coen like he was making a mood board for “Hot Noir, Lesbian Edition.” The action scenes—bloody, stylish, a little jagged—are the only moments where the film feels alive. The rest is more like a dream where someone spliced The Big Sleep with late-night cable.

The eccentric characters and confusing time-warp aesthetic might work better if you’re a die-hard Coen fan who enjoys their brand of playful chaos. But even then, this feels undercooked, like a set of quirky ideas thrown in a blender without the glue to make them stick. The best running gag belongs to Charlie Day as Detective Metakawich, whose relentless refusal to believe Honey is a lesbian becomes the movie’s sharpest joke. The best scene, well… let’s just say that dream with Plaza going down on Qualley has finally been realized for you.

The aesthetic—1940s trench coats rubbing elbows with Teslas and smartphone references—is deliberately confusing, and maybe that’s the point. But confusion isn’t the same as depth, and Honey Don’t! feels like it wandered into its own smoke cloud and forgot how to get out. Coen fans might find it a fun watch, if only because it jerks the viewer around enough times to feel like a parody of his earlier work. But when the smoke cleared, I was left with loose ends, unfinished business, and the nagging suspicion this whole thing was built around a single fantasy scene.

In short, the cast looks good, the sex is plentiful, but the story is missing in action. As a noir pastiche, it’s a curiosity. As a movie, it’s more like a series of disconnected events, strung together with sex scenes and eccentricities.

Honey Don’t! (2025)

https://jackmeat.com/honey-dont-2025/

A slow, atmospheric debut with a unique premise and strong lead, but squandered potential and dialogue over thrills lost me. #jackmeatsflix

 My quick rating – 4.1/10. In Somnium, Gemma (Chloe Levine) packs up her life, heads to Los Angeles, and sets her sights on becoming an actress. But instead of waiting tables and auditioning for toothpaste commercials like every other struggling hopeful, she somehow lands in a surprisingly roomy apartment and takes a gig at a sleep clinic that claims it can make people’s dreams come true. Sounds like an easy paycheck, but the deeper she goes into her new workplace, the clearer it becomes that something off-kilter, if not outright sinister, is happening.

Levine does carry the film well, even if her character feels like someone who wandered in from a different kind of movie altogether. She’s got that shy, naive quality that makes her believable as a girl who might get roped into the wrong kind of “acting” job, but here she’s equal parts victim and amateur sleuth, poking around the clinic when things don’t add up. Oddly enough, her southern accent makes a brief cameo in the first act before disappearing entirely, as if even it realized it wasn’t needed and walked off set. Accent mishap aside, she’s probably the best thing about Somnium.

The movie structures itself with flashbacks intercut with Gemma’s time at the clinic, presumably to give us some backstory. Unfortunately, none of these really matter, and they mostly serve to blur the line between dreams and reality. That might sound clever on paper, but in practice, it’s more like filler. And that becomes the recurring problem here: a lot of atmosphere, but not much substance. The so-called “creature” haunting the dreams is creepy enough to look at, but there’s no actual horror to it. Instead, it feels more like a personification of Gemma’s insecurities—interesting as a metaphor, not so much if you’re looking for scares.

To the film’s credit, first-time director Racheal Cain delivers something that looks sharp. The clinic has a polished, sterile feel, and the dream sequences have a floaty, otherworldly aesthetic that suggests Cain has an eye for visuals. But the story she co-wrote doesn’t really land on screen the way it should. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was drawing loose parallels between how people chase success in Hollywood and the dream-manipulation concept here. If so, it’s a thread that never fully comes together.

The pacing is another major hurdle. The film moves slowly, and while that can work in the right context, here it mostly leaves you waiting for something—anything—to happen. The clinic is framed as this place of mystery and dread, but almost nothing that happens there registers as horror or thriller material. Characters mostly just sit around talking, which undercuts the potential tension of the premise.

Somnium had the bones of a unique concept—dreams, fears, identity, ambition—but it squanders most of it. Instead of exploring the bigger ideas, it falls back on repetitive dialogue and underwhelming reveals. If you’re willing to shrug off the plot holes and treat it as a kind of dreamlike mood piece, you might find some entertainment in its atmosphere. But as a horror or even a psychological thriller, it misses the mark.

Somnium (2025)

https://jackmeat.com/somnium-2025

Queen of the Ring delivers a rousing look at Millie Burke’s trailblazing life, anchored by Emily Bett Rickards’ breakout performance. #jackmeatsflix...

My quick rating – 6.8/10. In a time when women’s pro wrestling was outlawed across much of the U.S., Queen of the Ring follows Millie Burke, a small-town single mother who risks it all to break barriers in America’s most masculine sport. Emily Bett Rickards plays Millie with a ferocity that’s a far cry from her Arrowverse days, and her performance anchors this lively biopic about ambition, struggle, and the cost of fighting your way to the top.

For wrestling fans, the casting alone feels like a dream card. Francesca Eastwood embodies Mae Young with the power you’d expect, James E. Cornette shows up as the NWA commissioner, and Toni Rossall—better known as Toni Storm from WWE, Stardom, and AEW—plays Clara with a natural swagger. Even Kailey Farmer, who recently appeared in AEW, slides neatly into the role of Millie’s nemesis June. It’s one of those films where you can tell the producers knew their audience.

The relationship between Millie and her manager-turned-husband Billy Wolf (Josh Lucas) provides plenty of drama, echoing the business itself: cooperative when it suits, toxic when it doesn’t. Through them, we see the sport’s growth from Midwest barnstorming to East Coast flash, from friendly “works” to unpredictable “shoots.” A sly jab lands when Vince McMahon Sr. quips that “promoters writing themselves into storylines is a terrible idea.” Knowing what Vince Jr. would later do, that’s a smirk-inducing Easter egg.

The behind-the-scenes politicking feels spot-on, though you still get the sense the movie only scratches the surface of how hard it really was for these women to “get over” in a male-dominated business. Back then, women were lucky to have one championship to fight over. Compare that to today’s AEW, where you practically need a spreadsheet to track the belts—Women’s World, TBS, ROH, tag straps, and whatever Tony Khan dreams up next. Millie fought for survival; today it sometimes feels like Oprah’s handing out titles: “You get a belt, you get a belt, everybody gets a belt!”

Adam Demos struts through as Gorgeous George with perfect flamboyance, while Farmer’s June gives Millie the heel she needs. All roads lead to the inevitable 1954 showdown teased in the opening, and while the match delivers spectacle, the real drama is Millie’s arc—winning three world titles, making and losing a fortune, and fighting personal battles that mirror her professional ones.

If there’s a flaw, it’s that the pacing and editing wobble just enough to distract. Some of the roughness feels intentional, like the movie is mimicking the chaos of the business, but it can also come across as sloppy. Thankfully, the energy and sense of fun carry it through, something a lot of modern wrestling storytelling could learn from.

Queen of the Ring (2025)

At its best, Queen of the Ring is a rousing, mostly faithful chronicle of women smashing barriers before “women’s revolution” was a marketing slogan. Rickards proves herself a breakout star, Francesca Eastwood adds a pedigree Clint would approve, and wrestling history gets a spotlight it rarely receives. It may not capture every bruise and betrayal, but it lands hard enough to leave a mark.

https://jackmeat.com/queen-of-the-ring-2025/

Die’ced: Reloaded rehashes the original with extra gore and a longer ending, feeling more like recycled footage than a proper sequel. #jackmeatsflix...

My quick rating – 4.4/10. After being impressed with Die’ced a couple of years back, I was genuinely curious when Die’ced: Reloaded popped up. The thought of Jeremy Rudd finally getting the time and budget to finish what he started was exciting. Sadly, what we got feels less like a sequel and more like a Frankenstein patchwork job—half movie, half rerun.

The story brings back scarecrow-masked killer Benny, who’s set loose on Halloween night to carve up 1980s Seattle. The opening murder spree leans hard into practical gore effects, and they look great. Unfortunately, Benny doesn’t actually escape the asylum. Instead, a nurse accidentally releases him and then insists, “We can’t call the cops, we have to erase any trace he was ever at this hospital.” This, after explaining he’s been locked up for 17 years. That’s not just bad writing, that’s a Looney Tunes gag.

From there, we hit every slasher cliché like boxes on a grocery list. High school scene with pop music? Check. Halloween party with disposable victims? Check. Scenes that look suspiciously identical to the first movie? Double check. At a certain point, I started wondering if Rudd just dusted off the old footage, glued on some new scenes, and called it a day. The truth is, that is exactly what he did.

To the film’s credit, the kill sequences are a highlight again—bloody, practical, and occasionally hilarious when Benny suddenly channels the strength of ten dockworkers. Eden Campbell steps into final-girl territory, but she never fully sells the scream queen energy; her performance hovers between “damsel in distress” and “mildly inconvenienced.”

The original Die’ced ended with a decent twist, but here we get an extra ten minutes tacked on. That means more carnage, a peek at Benny’s unhinged mother, and a slightly more complete send-off. The problem is, those extra scenes don’t actually make the film feel new. It’s the same dish reheated with a splash of CGI blood for garnish.

In the end, you don’t need to watch both. Die’ced: Reloaded basically contains the entire first movie with a few bonus clips stapled in. If Rudd’s goal was closure, he delivered, but if it was to craft a worthy sequel, the result feels more like leftovers.

Die’ced: Reloaded (2025)

https://jackmeat.com/dieced-reloaded-2025/