Jayro Bustamante’s Rita is a visually ambitious yet emotionally shallow re-imagination of the horrifying 2017 Guatemala orphanage fire. While its foundation—a melding of real-world tragedy with a dark fantasy lens—seems ripe for compelling storytelling, Rita stumbles in its execution, failing to deliver on its potential. The film presents a 13-year-old girl’s harrowing escape from an abusive father, only to find herself in a dystopian state-run institution. Here, fantastical beings and super-powered girls take center stage, attempting to rebel against the malevolent forces controlling their world.
The film’s premise is undeniably intriguing, and Bustamante’s attempt to incorporate fantasy elements, like Rita joining groups called Angels, Wolves, and Rainbows, is conceptually interesting. However, the narrative falters under the weight of sluggish pacing and dialogue-heavy sequences that neither propel the plot nor deepen the characters. Giuliana Santa Cruz gives a commendable performance as Rita, but even her earnest portrayal cannot breathe life into a script that feels meandering and disjointed. While one might hope for the emotional resonance and symbolic depth of a film like Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth,Rita instead comes across as lacklustre and uninspired.
The film’s biggest misstep lies in its failure to honour the gravity of its source material. The 2017 tragedy is a stark and deeply troubling piece of recent history, yet Rita struggles to balance its fantastical re-imagining with the weight of the real events. The result is a narrative that feels hollow and disconnected from the emotional core it seeks to explore.
The Prognosis:
Despite its commendable ambition and some striking visual moments, Rita ultimately lacks the substance and cohesion to leave a lasting impact. It’s a disappointing venture that falls far short of its promising premise.
Saul Muerte
Rita is streaming on Shudder from Fri 22nd November
So here we are reviewing another sequel, and how long will we go this time before referring to the SOH list of what makes a good sequel? Well for a start, Smile 2 does the right thing by starting soon after the last film, which (if you remember) ended with the lead character’s ex-boyfriend/cop friend Joel (played by Kyle Gallner) watching her self-immolate. So, by the rules established from the first movie, that means the Smile Curse has been passed onto him. And the opening of this new instalment deals with that, as we discover Joel at the end of his 6-day run (the length of the curse before the Smile Demon has to kill its host and choose another victim). Having been put through the wringer that this creature puts you through, Joel’s course of action is very predictable in a: if-you’re-gonna-go-down-take- somebody-with-you kind of way. From here we discover this film’s protagonist, Skye Riley (played by Charlie’s Angels / Aladdin’s Naomi Scott). A mega popstar who’s half Lady Gaga, half Britney Spears (at the time she was conceived by writer / director Parker Finn, that’s who he had to go off as inspiration, although today the only parallel you immediately think of is Tay Tay). With the demon latched onto her, what ensues is 2 hours of the same sort of relentless trauma the original film’s lead – Rose Cotter – suffered through. And that’s where we hit the crux of it all. The film’s spirit (as set by its predecessor) is to put the lead through relentless hell. Till she loses. And then the hell passes on to another for the next film. It’s a cliché production line approach that one expects from this sequel, but hopes will have the courage to break. Or at least warp.
Spoiler alert, it doesn’t. But it does end with a twist that is both daring and limiting in terms of where it leaves off for Smile 3. But that’s for that review. This is Smile 2, and essentially what this film does well – very well in fact – is exactly what it did the first-time round (see above re: hell). There’s a nice old skool rhythm to Finn’s directing. Whether it be his audacious use of the pan function on his tripod head, or pretentious use of wide-angle lenses, or the gratuitous use of 70’s style GFX for the opening titles (all of which – as cinematic storytelling devices go – seem to be making a bit of a comeback lately. Especially in other medium to small budget horrors like Barbarian and The Black Phone etc). But does all this make Finn a leader or a follower? All we know is that the afore mentioned thing this movie does well is also its prison. For this Demon has an invincibility to it that makes it all so… pointless. There is nothing anyone can try to defeat it. And even then, they only start trying AFTER they chew up most of the movie runtime wondering if they are going crazy, believing they are not going crazy, and figuring out what is making them go crazy. And even then, once they try stuff, there’s nothing this creature can’t defeat with a flick of the lazy writer’s wand…. Ie: “It was all in your head”. For anything approaching a plan or a way to combat it is basically an illusion conjured by the demon itself to give you false hope, so why bother? Even the method that Scott’s Riley tries to beat the creature this time round feels eerily similar to the first film. So straight away you know it’s not gonna work. And spoiler alert, when it doesn’t, you do feel decidedly annoyed. Because, as with the golden rule of writing (where the protagonist has to make the hard choice) you, as a storyteller HAVE to give your protagonist (and therefore your audience) hope. Otherwise there are no stakes, and instead what you are watching is porn. Which is fine. Who doesn’t love porn? But porn is not great story-telling.
In terms of performance – Scott does a good job of portraying a mega star under the sort of strain unique to individuals who are also a living breathing multimillion-dollar brand. And in her case, she is also combating a personal trauma in the form of a tragedy that takes place before the film (when do lead characters NOT have a harrowing event defining their backstories these days?)
The Prognosis:
Smile 2 has earned a lot at the box office and is a critical hit because admittedly it is a very good horror film. It’s just not a good film. Oh, and also, Jack Nicholson’s son has a small part in it. Smile if you can pick him.
When Anne and Patrick stumble into a black cab after a rough night out, they’re expecting a typical ride home—a relief from the cold night and the tensions simmering between them. However, the journey quickly turns dark as the cabbie, initially cheery and talkative, veers off course and takes them down a haunting, deserted road. It’s not long before the couple realises they’re locked in, trapped with a man whose jovial front hides something far more sinister. The setup is promising, drawing viewers in with an eerie atmosphere and unsettling undertones as the cab glides through unknown territory. Nick Frost’s cabbie is a captivating presence, maintaining a blend of unnerving charm and cryptic intent that keeps you guessing, at least at first.
The initial intrigue fades, though, as the film’s promise gets buried under an overly complicated narrative. It hints at folklore and supernatural elements but becomes too tangled in its own mythology, leaving audiences grasping for clarity. What could have been a tight, suspenseful thriller becomes increasingly disjointed, as each twist raises more questions than it answers. The film’s ambition to intertwine folklore with psychological terror is admirable, but it ultimately muddies the plot rather than enhancing it. By the midway point, it’s difficult to know whether the driver is meant to be supernatural, insane, or something in between. This indecisiveness leaves viewers adrift, and the potential fear factor wanes as confusion grows.
Frost delivers a solid performance, balancing his sinister and offbeat personas with the kind of ambiguity that could have made for a terrifying antagonist. Unfortunately, the script doesn’t give him enough to work with, pulling him—and the story—in too many directions to sustain a cohesive character arc. Anne and Patrick’s characters, while positioned as central to the driver’s twisted motives, remain frustratingly thin, with little to root for in their strained relationship. Their lack of depth also makes it harder to invest in their fate, leaving the suspense feeling lukewarm as the stakes grow unclear.
While Black Cab certainly has moments that showcase a creepy atmosphere, the lack of a clear trajectory undermines the tension that should be building. The deserted road setting, dark and mist-filled, is effectively spooky, yet the narrative undercuts the potential of this location, losing itself in meandering explanations of haunted histories that detract from the urgency of the couple’s plight. As the film lurches towards its bewildering conclusion, the story collapses into a mishmash of horror clichés and unfulfilled setups.
For horror fans seeking a taut, edge-of-your-seat thriller, Black Cab may be disappointing. The movie teases a terrifying ride but fails to stay on track, bogged down by a script that confuses mystery with aimlessness. With a stronger focus and a leaner narrative, it might have delivered on its bold premise, but as it stands, Black Cab is a missed opportunity that only occasionally taps into the horror lurking in the dark.
Don’t Move sets up a chilling scenario that would send shivers through even the steeliest viewer: grieving mother Iris (Kelsey Asbille) must fight for her life after a chance encounter with a ruthless serial killer who injects her with a paralytic agent. Directed by Adam Schindler and Brian Netto, the film attempts to merge high-stakes thrills with psychological horror, but it ultimately struggles to fully capitalise on its premise. Despite a well-rounded cast and bursts of tension, Don’t Move lacks the depth and danger that could have made it unforgettable.
The narrative begins with a promising setup as Iris, still reeling from personal tragedy, stumbles upon the killer. The film efficiently establishes a sense of urgency as she’s injected with the paralytic agent, setting a timer on her desperate attempt to escape before the drug takes hold. As she runs, hides, and fights to stay ahead of her assailant, the ticking clock injects some genuine suspense, and there are moments when Asbille’s performance as Iris—determined, terrified, and defiant—brings the urgency and fear to life.
Kelsey Asbille’s portrayal of Iris is commendable, as she navigates a spectrum of emotions from grief to desperation, giving a grounding force to a story that relies heavily on her character’s will to survive. Asbille’s performance feels layered and sincere, embodying a raw vulnerability that adds authenticity to the harrowing experience. Finn Wittrock, playing the serial killer, delivers a solid but somewhat predictable performance. Known for his versatility, Wittrock unfortunately leans into familiar territory here, lacking the nuance that could have elevated his character beyond the typical, single-minded predator. While he’s chilling in moments, Wittrock’s portrayal feels more like a trope than a fully realised antagonist, limiting the sense of menace he brings to the screen.
The film’s pacing is uneven, with moments of taut suspense broken up by lulls that feel oddly disconnected from the central tension. There are glimpses of innovation in the choreography of Iris’s attempts to elude her pursuer, yet the film rarely goes beyond surface-level thrills. While the script provides some gripping sequences, it often feels like Don’t Move is holding back, unwilling to push Iris’s ordeal into truly harrowing or unpredictable territory.
Much of Don’t Move‘s atmosphere hinges on its premise, but without a deeper exploration of Iris’s emotional or psychological state, the horror feels somewhat hollow. The directors capture a few standout moments of visual tension, but the film struggles to balance its action sequences with meaningful character development. Unlike films that masterfully blur the line between a physical and psychological threat, Don’t Move leans too heavily on formulaic horror conventions, never fully tapping into the deeper fears it flirts with.
The Prognosis:
Don’t Move offers an engaging thriller that falls short of its potential. Despite flashes of intensity and solid performances, it lacks the originality and edge to make it a lasting addition to the horror genre. For fans of survival thrillers, it may offer some fleeting thrills, but for those seeking a truly immersive experience, Don’t Move may feel disappointingly restrained.
The Piper brings Elizabeth Hurley back to the screen in a horror-thriller inspired by the chilling folklore of the Pied Piper. Directed by Anthony Waller (An American Werewolf in Paris), the film follows Liz (Hurley) and her daughter Amy (Mia Jenkins) as they attempt to start fresh in a small town in Germany. But as they settle in, an ominous force begins to stir—one that seems directly connected to Liz’s hidden past. The Piper, an ancient and vengeful entity, targets those who have wronged others, taking the children of those who bear guilty secrets. With Amy’s life in danger, Liz must confront both her past and the supernatural presence haunting her.
The film’s premise, rooted in the legendary Pied Piper tale, holds immense potential for a dark, psychological exploration of guilt and consequence. This is, after all, a story that has haunted generations with its chilling reminder of the cost of broken promises. Yet The Piper barely scratches the surface of the folklore’s psychological depth, opting instead for a more traditional supernatural thriller approach. Despite Hurley’s commendable performance, the film lacks the ambition to make full use of its unsettling premise, leaning on predictable scares and tired horror tropes rather than delving into the disturbing implications of the story.
Elizabeth Hurley brings a strong presence to the role of Liz, infusing her character with a mother’s desperation and guilt as she fights to protect her daughter. However, the script leaves her limited opportunities to elevate Liz into a more complex character. Mia Jenkins as Amy also shines in moments, adding a believable vulnerability to the role, though the character dynamics feel somewhat shallow. While the performances provide the film with glimmers of emotional depth, they can’t fully compensate for the lack of a compelling narrative arc or the film’s underwhelming exploration of its themes.
Where other films have managed to take inspiration from the Pied Piper and shape it into something uniquely sinister, The Piper seems hesitant to truly commit to its darker edges. Atom Egoyan’s The Sweet Hereafter comes to mind as a film that used this legend to explore community tragedy and moral ambiguity, grounding its horror in real human suffering. In contrast, The Piper remains content to skim the surface, favoring formulaic supernatural scares over any meaningful exploration of redemption or the consequences of guilt. This lack of thematic depth ultimately weakens the film, leaving it feeling more like a missed opportunity than a fresh take on folklore horror.
Visually, The Piper offers some well-composed shots that attempt to capture the haunting atmosphere of its German setting. Waller’s direction, while competent, seems restrained here, missing the stylistic ambition that might have heightened the film’s tension. Known for his work on An American Werewolf in Paris, Waller has a knack for creating eerie atmospheres, yet The Piper doesn’t quite capture that sense of dread on the same level, and the setting feels underutilized as a backdrop for horror.
Ultimately, The Piper doesn’t manage to live up to the potential of its inspiration, feeling more like a generic supernatural thriller than a fresh horror tale. Hurley’s return to the screen, bolstered by a solid supporting cast including Tara Fitzgerald and Robert Daws, is enjoyable, but it’s not enough to make this a standout. For fans of the Pied Piper legend hoping for a film that taps into the unsettling aspects of the myth, The Piper may feel like a missed chance, delivering a predictable story without the depth or innovation that could have made it memorable.
The Prognosis:
The Piper leaves viewers with a familiar yet unremarkable tale of vengeance from beyond, one that struggles to evoke the eerie, cautionary spirit of its source material. For those looking for a fresh twist on classic folklore, this film falls short, leaving the true horror of the Pied Piper myth waiting for a more ambitious interpretation.
Saul Muerte
Piper is available for Home Entertainment from 6th November.
Australia has long mastered the art of transforming its wild, often dangerous natural environment into the stuff of horror legend. From Razorback‘s ferocious wild boar to Rogue’s man-eating crocodile and The Reef‘s relentless shark, Aussie horror films have found a niche in turning the country’s flora and fauna into nightmare fuel. Now, The Red tries its luck with a new terror—Rippy, the giant zombie kangaroo, who’s taking the outback’s reputation for dangerous wildlife to absurd new heights.
While The Red is steeped in gimmickry, Rippy’s story has just enough originality and humor to keep it from feeling stale. The film leans hard into its outrageous premise, following the havoc-wreaking, undead kangaroo as it terrorises the tiny town of Axehead. The premise alone is undoubtedly outlandish, and director Rhys Chapman is well aware of the absurdity; he amps up the comedic horror elements, encouraging audiences to revel in Rippy’s carnage. Yet, beneath the zany concept, there’s a steady effort to elevate the story with strong character performances—something that makes The Red stand out among other Aussie creature features.
At the heart of The Red are performances that bring depth to an otherwise campy storyline. Aaron Pedersen shines as the stoic but increasingly exasperated local, adding gravitas to scenes that might otherwise be overwhelmed by the film’s over-the-top antics. His ability to balance seriousness with humour gives the movie its grounding force, making even the most ludicrous moments feel slightly more plausible. Michael Biehn, a beloved name from genre classics like The Terminator and Aliens, steps in with his signature ruggedness, adding weight to the film’s more intense sequences and elevating Rippy’s rampage from pure comedy to something a bit more sinister. Their presence and commitment to their roles help counterbalance the camp factor, giving The Red an unexpected sense of charm.
Yet for all its strengths, The Red doesn’t quite manage to claw its way out of mediocrity. The film’s relentless commitment to its zombie kangaroo premise may not appeal to everyone, with the comedy often overshadowing the horror. Rippy is memorable, if only for his sheer ridiculousness, but he lacks the lasting menace of some of Australia’s other cinematic creatures. Still, The Red will likely find a niche audience who appreciates the tongue-in-cheek approach and the thrill of watching another Australian animal wreak havoc.
The Prognosis:
The Red may not have the lasting power of Australia’s more fearsome horror creatures, but for fans of genre-bending horror and quirky creature features, it’s worth a watch. Pedersen and Biehn’s solid performances keep it engaging enough, and even if Rippy doesn’t become Australia’s next horror icon, he’s definitely unforgettable.
Saul Muerte
‘RIPPY’S GONE ROGUE’ AUSSIE ZOMBIE KANGAROO FILM ‘THE RED’ IN AUSTRALIAN CINEMAS OCTOBER 31
The Moogai, starring Shari Sebbens and Meyne Wyatt, is an ambitious psychological horror that melds the supernatural with the tragic legacy of Australia’s Stolen Generation. The story centres on Sarah and Fergus, a young Aboriginal couple whose lives spiral when Sarah becomes haunted by a spirit determined to take her newborn. This directorial debut by Jon Bell, adapted from his short film, strives to provide a chilling horror experience with a powerful First Nations narrative.
Despite the film’s budgetary constraints, The Moogai is undeniably commendable in its commitment to amplifying voices that mainstream media too often overlooks. Bell takes a significant risk in intertwining supernatural horror with the raw, historical trauma of the Stolen Generation. This choice lends the story an authentic weight, one that can make even its quieter moments unsettling for the viewer. The horror of the “Moogai” itself is as much about cultural survival and memory as it is about a literal, child-stealing spirit, making it a film that resonates more deeply than a typical thriller. Here, Bell taps into the boogeyman myth as a metaphor for loss, embodying the threat of erasure that has haunted Indigenous communities for generations.
However, as a horror feature, The Moogai struggles with pacing and tonal consistency. While Sebbens and Wyatt deliver committed performances, the film sometimes feels stretched too thin, with sequences that linger without building tension. These extended moments, though perhaps intended to evoke dread, often risk losing the viewer’s engagement. The film’s slow pacing requires a degree of patience, especially from audiences seeking fast-paced scares or intense suspense. This restraint may deter some horror fans, but for others, it offers a subtle, unsettling atmosphere that builds the film’s thematic power more than its thrill factor.
Where The Moogai shines is in its reflection of trauma and resilience. Sebbens’ portrayal of Sarah’s unraveling captures the disorienting fear of feeling unseen, not just by loved ones but by society at large. Wyatt’s Fergus is equally poignant as a husband and father torn between wanting to believe in Sarah’s haunting visions and fearing for her sanity. Their struggle mirrors the broader fight of First Nations people to have their truths recognised, to see their experiences validated rather than dismissed. The film becomes a haunting metaphor, echoing the cries of stolen generations and emphasising how grief, if unaddressed, can haunt each new generation.
The Prognosis:
The Moogai may not entirely satisfy as a spine-tingling horror, but its significance as a cultural narrative is undeniable. Its imperfections can’t detract from the boldness of its vision and the necessity of its message. Bell has crafted a film that, while limited in scope and budget, brings to light a story that deserves to be shared and reflected upon. The film’s power lies in its willingness to confront the horrors inflicted upon Indigenous communities, merging supernatural dread with the very real hauntings of history.
Saul Muerte
The Moogai will be screening in cinemas from October 31st.
With Terrifier 3, Damien Leone returns to the screen with another round of high-intensity slasher fare featuring Art the Clown. This time, however, Art trades in his usual Halloween night escapades for a yuletide twist, bringing a nightmarish take to the holiday season. In doing so, Leone melds Christmas cheer with dark humour and, unsurprisingly, his characteristic penchant for pushing practical effects to their bloody limits.
The film doubles down on what made its predecessors so distinct, using extreme gore and practical effects that make even seasoned horror fans squirm. Leone clearly revels in finding inventive—and unflinchingly gruesome—ways to dispatch his victims, pushing the boundaries of mainstream horror effects. This choice may not be to everyone’s taste; the Terrifier series is notorious for teetering at the edge of what’s acceptable in horror, and Terrifier 3 is no exception. Yet, Leone’s commitment to the practical, visceral nature of his effects keeps fans coming back for more.
Art’s shift to the holiday season brings a fresh layer of dark irony, with the contrast between holiday warmth and Art’s merciless brutality. Lauren LaVera returns as Sierra, delivering a performance that brings much-needed gravitas and weight. In a landscape drenched in Art’s unhinged humor—delivered with menacing glee by David Howard Thornton—LaVera provides a grounded presence that strengthens the emotional stakes. She holds her own against the increasingly chaotic energy of Art, continuing her trajectory as a worthy foil and survivor in Leone’s slasherverse.
Adding to the film’s appeal are the entertaining cameo appearances by Clint Howard, Daniel Roebuck, Chris Jericho, horror effects icon Tom Savini, and Jason Patric. Each brings a tongue-in-cheek quality to their scenes, adding a sly wink to horror fans who appreciate genre legends popping up in unexpected places. Savini’s presence, in particular, feels like a nod to horror’s dedication to practical effects, grounding Leone’s splatterfest in the legacy of horror cinema. These cameos lighten the mood at crucial moments, balancing out the unrelenting gore and further amplifying the film’s dark humor.
The Prognosis:
For fans of the series and die-hard horror aficionados, Terrifier 3 delivers. It’s bold, unapologetically over-the-top, and manages to stick to its roots while injecting a fresh, sinister seasonal twist. As divisive as it may be for some viewers, Terrifier 3 captures the raw spirit of horror with plenty of festive frights and fan-favourite faces, making it a holiday slasher like no other.
Anna Kendrick’s directorial debut, Woman of the Hour, takes on a chilling real-life story—Rodney Alcala, the infamous “Dating Game Killer.” In 1978, Alcala appeared on the popular TV show The Dating Game in the middle of a brutal killing spree. Kendrick not only directs but stars as Cheryl Bradshaw, the unwitting contestant opposite Alcala (Daniel Zovatto), whose charm on-screen masked his true, horrifying nature. It’s a fascinating premise, blending the glitz of a Hollywood game show with the sinister undercurrent of a serial killer hiding in plain sight.
What Woman of the Hour gets right is its ability to shock. The film doesn’t shy away from unsettling moments, particularly in the quieter scenes where Alcala’s sociopathic tendencies creep to the surface. Zovatto’s portrayal of Alcala is convincingly cold, and the moments of tension between him and Kendrick’s Bradshaw deliver the kind of unsettling atmosphere that one expects from a crime thriller. Kendrick’s nuanced performance carries Cheryl’s vulnerability and growing unease in the face of Alcala’s facade, making the character relatable and grounded in the surreal horror unfolding around her.
However, while the subject matter is disturbing, the film often feels too sugar-coated. There’s a Hollywood sheen that distracts from the gritty reality of Alcala’s monstrous acts. The stylized presentation of The Dating Game era, with its bright lights and campy format, clashes with the darkness beneath the surface. This juxtaposition feels deliberate, but the film doesn’t always balance it well, often glazing over the true terror of the situation. It’s as if Woman of the Hour is afraid to fully descend into the horror, opting for a thriller that plays it safe rather than delving deeply into the grotesque nature of Alcala’s crimes.
The movie works best when it lets the reality of Alcala’s actions bleed through the showbiz gloss. There are moments where the film breaks the bright exterior to hint at the true horrors Alcala was committing during the time. These moments are genuinely disturbing but too few and far between, making the film feel more like a dramatization than a full exploration of Alcala’s twisted psyche.
The Prognosis:
Woman of the Hour is an intriguing crime thriller with strong performances and an inherently fascinating true-crime angle. However, its reliance on surface-level thrills and polished presentation ultimately holds it back from becoming the gripping, deep-dive examination that the story demands. It leaves viewers with the unsettling truth of what Alcala did but doesn’t push far enough to leave a lasting impact. The film’s draw lies in its shocking subject matter, but it feels like a case of style over substance, never quite willing to peel away the layers of horror lurking beneath.
Saul Muerte
Woman of the Hour is currently streaming on Netflix.
“Azrael,” the latest action-horror from E.L. Katz, delivers a premise that sounds intriguing on paper—an eerie world devoid of speech, where a brutal female-led cult relentlessly hunts an escaped prisoner. Add the ever-captivating Samara Weaving into the mix, and expectations for some gripping, visceral action naturally rise. But while the film presents a brave, somewhat daring attempt to create a unique atmosphere, it ultimately falls short of delivering anything with real substance.
Weaving, known for her sharp intensity in past roles, undoubtedly carries the weight of the film on her shoulders. Her portrayal of Azrael, a woman fighting tooth and nail for survival, does bring some much-needed energy to the screen. When the action finally arrives, it’s clear that Weaving is skilled at kicking butt. Yet even her talent can’t save the film from its sluggish pace and lack of depth. It takes an eternity for the narrative to shift into gear, and by the time it does, the payoff feels disappointingly underwhelming.
The lack of dialogue is clearly intended to enhance the atmosphere, creating an unsettling and immersive world where silence is a weapon. However, the film’s over-reliance on this stylistic choice backfires. Without any meaningful verbal exchanges, the story begins to feel as barren as the film’s haunting wilderness setting. What could have been a tension-building device instead results in a narrative that often drags, leaving the audience feeling disconnected.
Visually, the film does have its moments. The desolate landscapes and stark imagery evoke a sense of isolation, and the concept of a voiceless world initially adds an eerie, unsettling layer. But these strengths aren’t enough to compensate for the weak character development and the rather predictable plot. The film meanders, and when it finally hits its stride in the action department, it’s too little, too late. Weaving is given far too few opportunities to shine, and the action sequences, though well-choreographed, lack the punch needed to make a lasting impact.
The Prognosis:
“Azrael” is a film with plenty of ambition, but it’s an example of how high-concept ideas require more than just a strong lead actor to succeed. It’s a brave effort from Katz, but without a stronger narrative core and more compelling action, it simply doesn’t have the gravitas to pull off the trick. Samara Weaving may be kicking butt, but even her powerful presence can’t elevate this film beyond its mediocre execution.
Surgeons of Horror 