Tag Archives: film

Outbreak (2024) – A Predictable Descent into Trauma

30 Monday Jun 2025

Posted by in Movie review

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Directed by Jeff Wolfe, Outbreak promises psychological dread and emotional turmoil against the backdrop of a creeping viral catastrophe—but ends up delivering little more than a tepid, trauma-soaked shuffle through familiar terrain.

The film follows a State Park Ranger (Billy Burke) and his wife (Alyshia Ochse) as they navigate the emotional wreckage of their teenage son’s disappearance, only to be confronted by a mysterious outbreak that further destabilises their world. As the infection spreads, so too does the sense of despair—but unfortunately, not much tension.

Billy Burke anchors the film with an earnest and committed performance, his weathered presence lending weight to otherwise limp material. Wolfe allows plenty of room for grief to dominate the narrative, but the pacing is sluggish, and the dramatic beats soon feel repetitive. Rather than building momentum, Outbreak spirals into melodrama, with a script that too often leans on genre clichés and a plot that telegraphs its twists from miles away.

There are a few flashes of atmosphere—some moody cinematography and eerie silences—but the film’s tonal heaviness overshadows its horror ambitions. The virus metaphor is serviceable, and by the time the film reaches its climax, the emotional payoff feels muted and overly familiar.

Despite its promising premise and a solid cast including Raoul Max Trujillo, Taylor Handley, and Jessica Frances Dukes, Outbreak plays it safe when it desperately needed to take risks. Watchable, sure—but only for the curious or the committed fans of the cast. For most, this is a slow trudge through thematic terrain that’s already been better navigated by others.

Outbreak will be available to rent or buy on DVD & Digital across Apple TV, Prime Video, Google TV, YouTube, and Fetch (AU) from July 2nd.

  • Saul Muerte

“28 Years Later: A Familiar Virus, A Mutated Vision”

21 Saturday Jun 2025

Posted by in Movie review

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

In 28 Days Later (2002), Danny Boyle and Alex Garland didn’t just kick the zombie genre into overdrive—they reanimated it. With rage-fueled infected, urgent digital grit, and a raw emotional core, it felt like the end of the world captured in real time. The sequel, 28 Weeks Later, traded intimacy for scale and kept the horror grounded in family trauma and moral collapse. Now, 28 Years Later arrives with all the right ingredients—Boyle and Garland reunited, a new angle on the infected, and a haunting performance from Jodie Comer—yet somehow the dish feels tepid, left too long to simmer in its own legacy.

Set nearly three decades after the initial outbreak, the film offers an evolved world, where quarantine zones remain ruthlessly enforced and life persists in liminal spaces. Comer plays Isla, a survivor embedded in a tight-knit community on a remote island connected to the mainland by a single, heavily guarded causeway. It’s a solid setting, rife with dread and potential—one that echoes the tension and bleak solitude of the original. But where 28 Days Later propelled itself with primal urgency, this entry often feels subdued, wandering through plot points instead of sprinting toward them.

The heart of the story follows a lone expedition back into the mainland’s infected heartland, where the infected have not only continued to mutate, but so too have the remnants of human society. The central theme once again revolves around family dynamics, something that has served as a connective tissue across all three films: Brendan Gleeson’s tragic turn in Days, the fractured Carlyle-McCormack family in Weeks, and now a newly-formed surrogate bond at the centre of Years. But here, it feels overemphasised to the point of distraction—particularly in scenes involving Ralph Fiennes, whose ponderous monologues often stall the film’s pulse when it should be quickening.

Comer, however, is the standout. Her portrayal of Isla brings grit, empathy, and conviction to a role that could’ve easily fallen into genre archetypes. She’s the emotional engine of the film, grounding it in human stakes even as the narrative wobbles into philosophical excess. The supporting cast handles their parts well, but none leave quite the same mark.

Visually, Boyle still knows how to stage devastation. His direction remains bold, capturing dereliction and dread with poetic framing. Garland’s script toys with paranoia, substance use, and psychological collapse—recurring themes for the duo—but here they feel more like recycled motifs than fresh meditations. There’s also an odd tonal shift in the final act, when the film suddenly veers into kung fu-style combat and hallucinatory spectacle, abandoning its grounded realism for a jarring dose of genre whiplash. The effect is disorienting and not entirely earned.

Fans looking for the visceral shock and bleak urgency of 28 Days Later may be disappointed. This is not that film. The infected still rage, the world still crumbles, but the pulse has slowed. The film’s strongest moments are its quietest – glimpses of survival, the cost of trust, the strange rituals that have replaced society. But in its desire to evolve, 28 Years Later sometimes forgets what made the original bite so hard in the first place.

The Prognosis:

28 Years Later is a fascinating, if flawed, return to a world that reshaped horror cinema. It’s packed with emotional resonance and striking visuals but often stumbles under the weight of its own ambitions. The virus has changed. Maybe the filmmakers have too.

  • Saul Muerte

“Consecration: A Beautifully Shot Descent into a Convoluted Mystery”

14 Saturday Jun 2025

Posted by in Movie review

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Director Christopher Smith (Triangle, Severance, Creep) has long walked the fine line between genre smarts and psychological thrills. With Consecration, he returns to familiar territory: isolation, trauma, and the gnawing sense that reality is unspooling by divine design—or perhaps something darker. Unfortunately, despite a stellar cast and evocative visuals, this theological thriller never quite delivers the clarity or momentum it promises.

At the centre of the story is Grace, played with icy restraint and wounded conviction by Jena Malone, who travels to a remote convent in the Scottish Highlands after the supposed suicide of her priest brother. It’s no spoiler to say she doesn’t buy the Church’s official line. What follows is a grim unpicking of spiritual rot, ancient rites, and personal demons—literal and otherwise.

Malone is a reliably magnetic presence, giving Grace a cold, coiled intensity. She’s in nearly every frame and carries the film with a quiet sense of fury, even when the script leaves her wandering in narrative fog. Danny Huston, meanwhile, brings a slippery, unsettling charm to his role as Father Romero—a man whose calm demeanour suggests he’s either a holy man or something far more manipulative. Their scenes together crackle with tension, even if the broader story never quite catches fire.

Visually, Consecration is arresting. Robert Adams’ cinematography makes the windswept cliffs and ancient stone interiors of the convent feel appropriately ominous and otherworldly. There’s a chilling stillness to the imagery, as though the land itself has been cursed. Smith knows how to set a mood, and he does so beautifully here, evoking The Ninth Configuration by way of The Nun.

But for all its atmosphere, Consecration stumbles under the weight of its convoluted plot. Flashbacks, hallucinations, religious visions, and a not-so-linear structure make for an increasingly confusing experience. Smith is no stranger to twisty storytelling—Triangle remains a standout in that regard—but here the puzzle-box elements feel murky rather than mind-bending. The story moves slowly, and its pacing often saps the tension that the setting and premise so deftly establish.

By the time the “revelations” arrive, they’re less shocking than they are baffling, tipping the film into a kind of Doctor Who-style timey-wimey terrain that doesn’t mesh with the grounded horror of its opening acts. It’s a tonal mismatch, and one that ultimately dulls the emotional impact of the finale.

Still, there’s something admirable about the ambition on display. Consecration isn’t content to offer up surface-level scares. It aims for spiritual unease and existential horror, and when it clicks, it’s genuinely unsettling. But in the end, the execution can’t match the ambition.

The Prognosis:

A gorgeous, well-acted descent into faith and madness—but one that loses its way somewhere along the sacred path.

  • Saul Muerte

Consecration will be available on UK Digital Platforms from 16th June.

“In Her Skin: The Stylist and the High Cost of Belonging”

13 Friday Jun 2025

Posted by in Movie review

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Streaming on Shudder and AMC+ from Monday 16 June

Beneath its softly lit salons and the hushed intimacy of late-night haircuts, The Stylist carves out something far more unsettling: a psychological portrait of aching loneliness, identity collapse, and the monstrous lengths some will go to feel like they belong. Directed with eerie precision by Jill Gevargizian, this feature-length adaptation of her acclaimed short film offers a muted but effective horror tale that leans more into sadness than shocks.

Claire (Najarra Townsend) is a woman adrift—quiet, awkward, desperate to connect—but with a hunger that’s gone grotesquely unmet. She doesn’t just cut hair. She scalps. Each kill is not about violence for its own sake, but a tragic, chilling attempt to wear someone else’s life. And that’s where The Stylist cuts deepest—not in the gore, but in its exploration of identity as a fragile performance, and what happens when someone can no longer locate their own sense of self.

Enter Olivia (Brea Grant), an affable, outgoing bride-to-be who naively invites Claire deeper into her world. From there, the spiral is slow and agonising. What starts as admiration curdles into obsession. Claire’s need to be Olivia isn’t just jealousy—it’s pathological yearning. Her scalping isn’t about trophies in the serial killer sense. It’s about transference. Taking the one thing a person can’t fake: their presence, their social ease, their confidence. Claire doesn’t want to destroy—she wants to inhabit.

Townsend delivers a superb, painfully internal performance. Her Claire is meek but never blank—each nervous twitch and downward glance revealing someone quietly screaming behind her skin. She doesn’t play the killer as a monster, but as a woman in mourning—for connection, for warmth, for identity. It’s a performance that sticks with you. Brea Grant, meanwhile, plays Olivia with a brightness that never tips into caricature, making her slow realisation all the more tragic.

Stylistically, the film is polished, with an elegant aesthetic that contrasts beautifully with its macabre subject matter. There are echoes of Maniac, May, even Single White Female, but The Stylist stands on its own, particularly in how grounded its emotional horror remains. The mood is heavy, sometimes to a fault, with pacing that occasionally feels listless rather than deliberate. Still, the thematic undercurrents—how we mask our emptiness, how we covet others’ confidence like currency—are deeply resonant.

The Prognosis:

There’s a sadness in the scissors. In the need to be seen. In the horror of invisibility. The Stylist doesn’t reinvent the horror genre, but it delivers something more haunting than expected: a quiet eulogy for those who never quite found their place, and the darkness that fills the void.

  • Saul Muerte

The Dhampir Rises Again: 40 Years of Vampire Hunter D’s Haunting Influence

28 Wednesday May 2025

Posted by in retrospective

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

Premiering Exclusively on Shudder, AMC+ and HIDIVE – Friday 30 May
“In a world ruled by vampires, only a half-blood dares to hunt them.”

When Vampire Hunter D premiered in 1985, few could have predicted the cultural ripple effect it would have across manga, anime, and horror for decades to come. Now, forty years later, this gothic, genre-defying milestone returns with a long-awaited streaming premiere on Shudder, AMC+, and HIDIVE—offering a perfect moment to reflect on its enduring power.

Set in the far-flung future of 12,090 A.D., the film unfolds in a post-apocalyptic landscape where science and sorcery coexist, and humanity lives in fear under the rule of the vampire Nobility. At its centre is Doris Lang, a brave young woman marked for unholy matrimony by the ancient Count Magnus Lee. Her only hope lies in the hands of a mysterious wanderer known only as D—an enigmatic vampire hunter with a tragic secret etched into his very bloodline.

Directed by Toyoo Ashida and based on the novel by Hideyuki Kikuchi with iconic illustrations by Yoshitaka Amano, Vampire Hunter D was a revelation for its time. It merged the aesthetics of Western horror—Dracula, Frankenstein, Lovecraft—with a distinctly Japanese post-apocalyptic flair, opening a door to global audiences that had rarely encountered horror anime in this form. The film’s blend of violence, melancholy, and romanticism felt alien and refreshing—an animated Gothic western that flirted with sci-fi, body horror, and dark fantasy.

The horror in Vampire Hunter D is not just visual—it’s atmospheric. Shadowy castles, mutated creatures, and the decaying elegance of the vampire Nobility all serve to create an air of terminal beauty, where death and corruption linger in every frame. The film pulses with dread, not just from its antagonists, but from the melancholic burden D carries as a dhampir—caught between two worlds, never at home in either.

Manga, and later anime, would absorb and amplify these motifs. Vampire Hunter D helped normalise horror as a serious mode within manga storytelling, inspiring a lineage that includes Berserk, Hellsing, Claymore, and Attack on Titan. Its DNA can be traced through the decades, proving that gothic horror, when stylised with poetic nihilism and speculative world-building, could resonate far beyond Japan.

Though animation has since evolved in leaps and bounds, there’s a charm in Vampire Hunter D’s hand-drawn grit—a visual texture that feels inseparable from its era and identity. It may lack the polish of modern anime, but it makes up for it in atmosphere, tone, and mythic presence.

The Prognosis:

As it celebrates its 40th anniversary with a new generation of fans ready to rediscover it, Vampire Hunter D still holds its scythe high. Part horror, part tragedy, and wholly influential, it remains a cornerstone of horror anime—and proof that even in a world of monsters, the greatest fear often lies within the hero himself.

  • Retrospective Review by Saul Muerte

Vampire Hunter D premieres exclusively on Shudder, AMC+ and HIDIVE – Friday 30 May

From Killer to Filler: Fear Street’s Prom Queen Fails to Reign

24 Saturday May 2025

Posted by in Movie review

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , ,

The crown may glitter, but this prom queen is all tulle and no terror.

Fear Street: Prom Queen stumbles into Netflix’s horror lineup with limp energy and even less imagination. Gone is the confident, genre-savvy edge that defined Leigh Janiak’s 2021 trilogy—a trio of interconnected films (1994, 1978, and 1666) that managed to surprise and delight by leaning into horror history while crafting its own mythology. That trilogy was vibrant, bloody, and bold—elevating RL Stine’s teen-friendly chills into something slick and cinematically compelling. With Prom Queen, the fall from Fear Street grace is as loud as it is underwhelming.

Janiak’s absence is keenly felt. What once felt like a love letter to horror has been reduced to a colourless cash-in, trading atmosphere and tension for hollow homage and tired tropes. Director Matt Palmer brings little visual flair or tonal conviction, and the script lacks the spark that made the earlier films feel alive with danger. There’s a fundamental disconnect between the material and its adaptation—as if it’s been lifted from the shelf and passed through a soulless streaming algorithm before making its way to screen.

And that’s a shame, because Prom Queen comes from decent stock. RL Stine’s original novel, while perhaps lighter on the bloodshed, delivered the kind of pulpy suspense and teen melodrama that made his work addictive for a generation. The story’s premise—deadly competition for the school crown—was ripe for a satirical or sinister update in the post-Carrie, post-Mean Girls horror landscape. Instead, the film barely flirts with either, delivering a painfully formulaic slasher that neither frightens nor surprises.

The kills, such as they are, feel half-hearted and predictable. Characters are introduced only to be dispatched minutes later, never afforded personalities beyond archetypes. Suspense is conspicuously absent, replaced by a mechanical rhythm of setup and slash that grows increasingly tiresome. It doesn’t help that the film plays it incredibly safe—never leaning into camp, nor darkness, nor even irony. It simply exists, like a photocopy of a photocopy, drained of the ink that once gave the franchise bite.

India Fowler stands out, her performance as Lori Granger offering flickers of emotion and control that the film doesn’t deserve. She does what she can with thin material and walks away mostly unscathed. The Newton Brothers’ score is another high point—synthy, nostalgic, and oddly elegant—almost a haunting echo of the trilogy’s sharper sound design. But these are isolated gems in an otherwise barren crown.

The Prognosis:

Fear Street: Prom Queen is a disappointing return to a once-promising franchise. It neither honours its roots nor pushes the story in new directions. Instead, it limps across the finish line with little to say and even less to feel. If this is the future of Fear Street, it may be time to turn back.

  • Movie Review by Saul Muerte

Letting Go Hurts: The Surrender Cuts Deep

18 Sunday May 2025

Posted by in Movie review

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

Grief, guilt, and resurrection collide in this modest but emotionally raw Shudder original, anchored by Colby Minifie’s compelling performance.

Shudder’s The Surrender, directed by Julia Max, delivers a slow-burn horror that uses its modest means to tell a deeply emotional—and at times unnerving—tale of grief, guilt, and letting go. While the film initially struggles under the weight of its low budget, it gradually finds its footing as it surrenders itself to the emotional and psychological turmoil at its centre.

At the heart of the story is the fraught relationship between a grieving mother and her daughter Megan (Colby Minifie), as they wrestle with the sudden death of their husband and father. Desperate and broken, the mother enlists a mysterious stranger to bring her husband back from the dead. What begins as a misguided act of love quickly spirals into something much more brutal and unnatural.

The supernatural elements are understated at first, and admittedly, the film’s visual limitations are most noticeable in its early scenes. But what The Surrender lacks in spectacle, it more than makes up for in its performances—particularly Minifie’s. As Megan, she delivers a performance grounded in realism and vulnerability, guiding the audience through the stages of grief with raw authenticity. Her arc—resisting, confronting, and eventually accepting the horror unraveling around her—anchors the film and gives its title real weight.

Director Julia Max plays with mood and silence rather than jump scares, and the atmosphere becomes more effective the longer we sit in it. The film’s title becomes a double-edged term: surrender to grief, surrender to love, and ultimately, surrender to what can’t be undone.

The Prognosis:

While it never fully transcends its genre or budget, The Surrender is a thoughtful entry in the grief-horror subgenre that lingers in the mind more than expected. For those patient enough to give in, there’s something genuinely resonant beneath the blood and shadow.

  • Movie Review by Saul Muerte

The Surrender is streaming on Shudder from Fri 23rd May.

Final Destination: Bloodlines” Sends the Franchise Out with a Bloody, Belly-Laugh Bang

14 Wednesday May 2025

Posted by in Movie review

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

Gruesome deaths, tongue-in-cheek humour, and one last haunting turn from Tony Todd give this unexpected final chapter a shockingly fun farewell.

Okay, so what number is this? FD 14? 80? Final Destination 482?

Meh, who cares.

To be perfectly honest, I really wasn’t expecting much from this, so did it deliver?
Drum roll… well, you’ll see.

The plot is: College student, Stefani, is plagued by the same super-violent nightmare  night after night so investigates to find out what’s the deal. Then blah de blah, something, something about cheating death and it coming back to get you.

IRL SPOILER ALERT: Death catches up with everyone in the end.

Starring… well, I don’t know. Other than Tony Todd (in his final role before his passing) reprising his usual role, there’s no big ‘stars’… unless you count the Maya Hawke lookalike. This obviously makes the cast extra-expendable when they meet their bloody end. And boy oh boy, did they not scrimp on the blood and gore!!!

Every death is gratuitously gore-rific. The audience at the screening, the sick puppies they were, erupted in absolute fits of laughter every time one of the characters was killed.

Again, sick puppies… myself included of course.

But that’s it too. It most definitely plays for laughs. The writers are comedy and/or horror specialists. Between them they are responsible for: “Abigail”, “Ready or Not”, “Spider-Man: Homecoming” to name but a few. And they’ve had a great deal of fun with the script for this.

The Prognosis:

For me, “Final Destination: Bloodlines” was a great surprise. The makers have promised this is the final chapter of the long-exhausted franchise but hooly dooly, what a way to go out.

Now let the franchise die and head to its final destination.

  • Movie Review by Myles Davies

Clown in a Cornfield Juggles Gore, Heart, and Teen Angst—but Drops a Few Balls

13 Tuesday May 2025

Posted by in Movie review

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Eli Craig’s stylish adaptation of the Bram Stoker Award-winning novel lands some bloody punches, but struggles to balance slasher thrills, meta commentary, and character depth.

Adapted from the 2020 novel of the same name by Adam Cesare. Clown in the Cornfield won the Bram Stoker Award for Best Young Adult Novel and was a prominent addition to the new wave of horror literature. Acquired by Shudder and pushed wider than one would expect for a Canadian teen slasher, the film has high aspirations and plenty to show for it.

Still grieving the loss of her mother, Quinn (Katie Douglas) has been transplanted from Philadelphia to the corn country town of Kettle Springs by her father, the new town’s doctor (Aaron Abrams). Hoping for a new start, they find the town, still stuck in the 90s, has a strange air about it. The adults all seem to have it out for the teens of the town, in particular the group lead by the Mayor’s son, Cole (Carson MacCormac). Much to the town’s chagrin Cole and his friends make internet horror videos, starring Friendo the Clown, the Factory and the Town’s Mascot. After one of their recent after hours shoots in the corn syrup factory, a fire mysteriously started and burned the whole thing down, putting half the town out of work and the teens in the crosshairs of a very angry clown.

A slasher lives and dies (and dies and dies) on its kills and in this teen slasher comedy Director Eli Craig brings his experience from the very fun Tucker & Dale vs Evil and the Adam Scott starring, Omen parody, Little Evil. While the killing is sparse to begin with, the violence ramps up towards the end in fun and inventive ways. There is a surprising amount of heart put into the film and the teen drama between the leads is engaging and affecting. One of the film’s weak points though is the supporting cast, the performances are held well but characters are so thinly drawn which only is highlighted because the leads have such life and depth to them.

Out of the whole Canadian cast, Kevin Durand is the biggest name here and really he’s more of a “Hey, I know that guy!” Durand plays the conservative Mayor obsessed with tradition and hard on the youth. While there isn’t a whole lot for him to do for most of the film’s run, there is one scene towards the end where he gets to really chew the scenery.

Together, Craig and cinematographer Brian Pearson (Final Destination 5, I Am Legend) bring a gorgeous look to the film, it’s probably one of the best looking teen horrors in a long while. Divorced from so many of the bad habits that have plagued the lower tier horror films of the last decade. The action is clear and you are always oriented in the scenes. I know this sounds like faint praise but there are so many slashers aimed at teens that just do not try and end up edited to pieces.

Unfortunately, the film suffers in the act of adaptation, too often you can feel a novel’s pacing and story squeezed into the brisk 96 minutes of the film’s run time. The tone fights with itself throughout flitting between classic slasher, meta comedy and teen drama, doing all three well when it’s happening on screen but all three never coalesce into a singular piece. Friendo never really gets the moments to elevate anywhere near to the likes of Jason or Freddy, or even Art the Clown for that matter. His design is not terribly interesting and the reveal of what’s really going on, while surprising at first, leaves the lore pretty thin and shallow to play in

The Prognosis:

The aspirations to be Scream for this generation are here; the mixture of horror and comedy, generational commentary, teenage cast. As an entry level slasher it does plenty right and with solid direction, inventive kills and charming performances but for more seasoned slasher lovers will be left wanting from Friendo the Clown.

  • Movie Review by Oscar Jack

A Symphony in Splatter: Langley’s Butchers Trilogy Goes for the Jugular

10 Saturday May 2025

Posted by in Movie review

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

Director Adrian Langley stays true to his blood-soaked roots in this gleefully gruesome third chapter.

In a genre that thrives on extremity, Adrian Langley’s Butchers trilogy has carved out its own brutal little niche—one not of narrative elegance or thematic innovation, but of bone-crunching, limb-lopping, nerve-shredding excess. With Butchers Book Three: Bonesaw, Langley stays the course, offering up another round of down-home horror where pain is inevitable and escape is unlikely.

Gone are the niceties of plot complexity or emotional nuance. In their place: sinew, shrieks, and gallons of the good stuff—practical effects and prosthetics that drip with a kind of DIY devotion rarely seen in modern horror. Langley doesn’t just lean into the gore; he practically does a cannonball into it. This time, his antagonist is a grotesque butcher on wheels, hacking through anyone in his way from the confines of his roving abattoir van. It’s ridiculous, yes, but it’s also grotesquely entertaining.

The story, such as it is, follows three women caught in the butcher’s path and a small-town sheriff who attempts to make sense of the carnage. There’s a familiar structure here—the cat-and-mouse setup, the slasher’s calculated chaos—but Langley’s real interest lies in the carnage itself. Heads roll. Limbs drop. The camera rarely flinches, and neither does the director.

Where the film stumbles is in its limited character development and tonal rigidity. The sheriff subplot adds some much-needed shape, but our protagonists exist mostly to scream, bleed, and be pursued. Still, in the context of a trilogy where spectacle has always trumped subtext, Bonesaw feels like a natural and—dare it be said—confident culmination of Langley’s rural carnage canon.

This isn’t horror that aims for atmosphere or metaphors. It’s red meat cinema—satisfyingly gnarly, grotesquely tactile, and proud of its splatterpunk DNA. In an era of glossy elevated horror, Butchers Book Three proudly remains low to the ground, in the dirt and the blood, where it has always belonged.

The Prognosis:

Not for the squeamish, but for gorehounds and genre loyalists, Langley delivers precisely what’s on the tin—if that tin were dented, rusted, and soaked through with blood.

  • Movie Review by Saul Muerte

Movie Review: Butchers

Movie Review: Butchers Two: Raghorn