Crime dramas based on true events often walk a fine line between gripping realism and cinematic exaggeration. Inside Man, directed by Danny A. Abeckaser, leans into this challenge with a gritty portrayal of undercover work in 1980s New York. Emile Hirsch leads the film as a troubled detective whose attempt at redemption drags him deep into the underbelly of the mob, where survival means losing himself in the very world he’s trying to dismantle.
Hirsch, known for his intense performances in Into the Wild and Lone Survivor, delivers a solid turn as a cop struggling with his identity while infiltrating the DeMeo crew—one of the most feared factions of the era. His internal conflict is the film’s strongest element, though at times, the script doesn’t allow for deeper psychological exploration. Lucy Hale adds some emotional weight to the story, though her role feels underdeveloped, while Robert Davi and Jack Cannavale bring a welcome menace to their mobster personas.
Abeckaser, who has experience with crime dramas (Mob Town), crafts an authentic 1980s New York atmosphere, full of dimly lit bars, smoky back rooms, and bursts of brutal violence. However, while the film captures the aesthetic well, it sometimes struggles with pacing, feeling more like a series of key moments rather than a fully cohesive narrative. The tension builds effectively, but some scenes drag, making the film feel longer than its runtime.
The Prognosis:
For crime thriller enthusiasts, Inside Man offers a serviceable look at the high-risk world of undercover police work. It doesn’t break new ground, but the strong performances and stylish execution make it worth a watch, especially for fans of mob dramas.
Inside Man will be available on DVD & Digital, including Apple TV, Prime Video, and Google Play from March 5, 2025, in Australia & New Zealand.
Osgood Perkins has built a reputation for moody, atmospheric horror (The Blackcoat’s Daughter, I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House), crafting eerie slow burns that settle under your skin. So it’s baffling that his adaptation of Stephen King’s The Monkey swings so wildly in the opposite direction, embracing an oddly comedic tone that is both its saving grace and its Achilles’ heel.
The film follows twin brothers who, after discovering a cursed wind-up monkey, become entangled in a series of grotesque and improbable deaths. Decades later, the sinister toy resurfaces, forcing the now-estranged siblings to confront their past—and the murderous primate—before its deadly rhythm consumes them completely.
As someone who was deeply impacted by King’s short story during my formative years, this adaptation feels like a tonal misstep. While Perkins injects moments of dry, almost absurd humour that occasionally land (I’ll admit, I chuckled more than once), the film never fully commits to either horror or comedy, leaving it feeling strangely weightless. The sense of dread that should accompany a tale about an unrelenting, supernatural force is missing, replaced with an offbeat energy that doesn’t quite fit.
Visually, The Monkey does retain some of Perkins’ signature flair. There are pockets of eerie imagery, particularly when the toy is in motion, its drum banging in ominous slow motion as its glassy eyes seem to bore into the characters’ souls. However, the film’s pacing stumbles between moody horror and slapstick absurdity, undercutting its tension just as it starts to build. Instead of letting the horror breathe, it often pivots to a joke or exaggerated reaction, as if second-guessing its own scares.
The performances do their best to sell the concept, with the lead actors committing to the madness, but there’s a disjointedness to the storytelling that prevents any real emotional weight from forming. Without a stronger anchor—whether it be a grounded sense of familial trauma or a truly nightmarish atmosphere—the film lacks the staying power of both Perkins’ previous work and King’s original story.
With The Monkey, Perkins seems to be playing against type, but instead of reinventing the demonic toy subgenre, he fumbles it. The film claps along to its own beat, but much like the monkey itself, the rhythm grows tiresome—thumping away long after the terror has worn off.
Josh Ruben’s Heart Eyes (2025) continues the director’s increasing track record of blending horror with sharp comedic sensibilities. With a strong cast featuring Olivia Hoult, Mason Gooding, Jordana Brewster, and Devon Sawa, the film injects energy into a genre that thrives on familiar tropes but struggles to fully subvert them.
The film follows two co-workers working late on Valentine’s Day who find themselves mistaken for a couple by the elusive “Heart Eyes Killer.” What should have been a routine night of overtime turns into a desperate struggle for survival as they attempt to outwit a murderer with a romantic vendetta. Ruben, alongside the influence of Christopher Landon, crafts a thrilling yet darkly comedic atmosphere, elevating the film above standard slasher fare.
One of Heart Eyes’ strongest assets is its cast. Olivia Hoult and Mason Gooding deliver an engaging dynamic, their chemistry adding an element of screwball charm reminiscent of classic comedies like His Girl Friday, which fittingly plays at the local drive-in. Jordana Brewster and Devon Sawa add gravitas, balancing the film’s mix of humour and suspense. Each actor brings a spark that keeps the film’s momentum going, even when the script leans into predictability.
When it comes to slasher sequences, Heart Eyes delivers with some truly creative and intense set pieces. Ruben ensures that the kills are visually engaging and suspensefully executed, but the film often treads a fine line between homage and predictability. While it never loses its charm, seasoned horror fans may find the plot’s trajectory a little too easy to anticipate.
The Prognosis:
Heart Eyes is a fun, well-acted, and stylish slasher that balances humour and horror with flair. The chemistry of its leads and its nods to classic cinema add a refreshing touch, but it ultimately doesn’t push the boundaries of the genre enough to be truly groundbreaking. Nevertheless, it’s a solid entry in Josh Ruben’s growing filmography and a Valentine’s Day horror treat worth watching.
Shudder’s latest original, The Dead Thing, is a slow-burning, atmospheric descent into grief, trauma, and something even more unearthly. Directed with a steady, unsettling hand, this supernatural thriller refuses to play by conventional horror rules, opting instead for a creeping dread..
At the heart of the film is Alex (Blu Hunt, The New Mutants), a young woman adrift in a sea of meaningless encounters, numbed by her own detachment from the world. When a seemingly random dating app match leads her to Kyle (Ben Smith-Petersen, Mad Max: Fury Road), their connection is instant, electric—yet fleeting. The morning after, Kyle vanishes without a trace, leaving behind an aching absence that sends Alex spiraling into a desperate search for answers. What she uncovers is a chilling revelation that warps the boundaries of reality, dragging her into an inescapable cycle of obsession, dependence, and something far darker than she could have imagined.
Blu Hunt delivers a powerhouse performance, embodying Alex’s hollowed-out existence with eerie precision. Her portrayal of emotional disconnection makes her eventual unraveling all the more compelling, as she clings to Kyle in a feverish attempt to grasp at something—anything—real. The film’s hypnotic pacing mirrors her descent, pulling the viewer into a suffocating atmosphere of existential dread.
What sets The Dead Thing apart is its layered exploration of trauma, not just in the psychological sense, but in the way it fractures time, memory, and even space. The film flirts with the astrophysical, hinting at horrors that exist beyond human perception, yet tethered to the deeply personal. It’s an unnerving blend of body horror and cosmic unease, where love and terror become indistinguishable.
Director Elric Kane crafts a film that rewards patience. Those expecting conventional horror beats may find themselves frustrated, but for those willing to embrace its methodical pacing and brooding atmosphere, The Dead Thing delivers a uniquely unsettling experience. With haunting imagery, a skin-crawling score, and a gut-punch of an ending, it cements itself as one of Shudder’s most memorable releases in recent years.
The Prognosis:
A terrifying meditation on trauma and the lengths we go to feel alive again, The Dead Thing lingers like a half-remembered nightmare—one you might not want to wake up from.
Saul Muerte
The Dead Thing will stream on Shudder from Fri 14th Feb.
Jevon Boreland’s Welcome arrives as a psychological thriller that thrives on ambiguity, moral complexity, and unsettling tension. While its modest budget is apparent at times, strong performances, well-crafted cinematography, and an antagonist with unexpected depth elevate the experience beyond the usual home-invasion fare.
The film follows expectant parents Darren (Emidio Lopes) and Sasha (Shailene Garnett), who set out for a romantic getaway in the countryside, only to find their retreat disrupted by their overly attentive landlord Eric (Emmanuel Kabongo) and his unsettling wife Millie (Brianna Goldie). What begins as an awkward intrusion soon spirals into something far more sinister, as paranoia and hidden motives turn their weekend into a nightmare.
Rather than presenting a clear-cut hero-villain dynamic, Welcome plays in murky waters, forcing viewers to question not just Eric’s unsettling presence but also the past decisions of Darren and Sasha. The film leans into psychological horror more than outright terror, making its tension feel more cerebral than visceral.
Boreland and his team craft a tightly wound narrative that benefits from strong character work, a script that keeps you guessing, and moments of quiet, creeping dread. The cinematography enhances the sense of isolation, giving the film an eerie beauty that contrasts with its darker themes. Kabongo, in particular, delivers a performance that straddles menace and sympathy, making Eric one of the more compelling antagonists in recent genre fare.
However, Welcome doesn’t fully capitalise on its tension. The slow build is effective, but some stretches of the film feel drawn out, and when things finally escalate, the payoff is more unsettling than shocking. Additionally, while the script is solid, certain character decisions feel forced, occasionally stretching plausibility.
The Prognosis:
Welcome is a solid psychological thriller that asks unsettling questions about morality, past choices, and the blurred lines between villainy and victimhood. While its pacing and budget limitations hold it back from greatness, the film’s strong performances and commitment to ambiguity make it a worthy entry in the genre. If you enjoy thrillers that leave you pondering. Welcome is worth a visit.
Saul Muerte
Welcome is available to stream on demand from Feb 11 through Breaking Glass Pictures.
Somewhere between Goosebumps and The Goonies, Monster Summer tries to capture that elusive blend of childhood adventure, light horror, and 80s-style camaraderie. Directed by David Henrie, the film delivers a charming, if slightly uneven, ride through the thrills of a summer setting gone awry, boosted by a cast that lends it more weight than expected.
The story follows Noah (Mason Thames) and his friends as they uncover a supernatural force disrupting their island’s summer festivities. With the help of a retired detective (Mel Gibson, in a gruff but entertaining role), they set off on a quest filled with eerie encounters and mild scares. Lorraine Bracco adds a welcome presence to the ensemble, grounding the film’s more fantastical elements with her no-nonsense delivery.
The biggest strength of Monster Summer lies in its cast. Thames continues to impress as a young lead, while Gibson and Bracco bring a sense of old-school gravitas. The film also leans into nostalgia, evoking the spirit of classic kids-on-a-mission films, and it largely succeeds in crafting an adventure that feels accessible for younger audiences while still engaging for older viewers.
However, Monster Summer struggles with pacing. The first half builds up well, but the stakes never quite reach the intensity needed to make the adventure feel truly urgent. The mystery surrounding the “monster” is intriguing but ultimately plays it too safe, leaving the film feeling more like a fun diversion than a truly memorable entry in the genre.
The Prognosis:
Monster Summer is a light, enjoyable ride that taps into the nostalgic formula of kid-led horror adventures. It doesn’t break new ground, and some of its tension feels undercooked, but strong performances and a charming atmosphere make it worth a watch—especially for families looking for an entry-level horror experience.
Leigh Whannell’s Wolf Man arrives with the weight of expectation, following his 2020 critical and commercial hit The Invisible Man. Much like its predecessor, the film modernises a Universal Monsters classic, filtering it through Whannell’s sleek, grounded style. But whereas The Invisible Man thrived on paranoia, tension, and social relevance, Wolf Man struggles to find its footing, delivering a film that is as unsteady as its protagonist’s transformation.
The story follows Blake (played by Christopher Abbott), a man whose troubled marriage leads him and his wife Charlotte (Julia Garner) to his secluded childhood home in rural Oregon. What starts as an attempt at reconciliation quickly turns into a nightmarish ordeal when they’re attacked by an unseen creature. As Blake’s behaviour grows increasingly erratic, the lines between man and beast blur, forcing Charlotte to confront a horrific truth.
At its core, Wolf Man treads familiar ground—Whannell’s fascination with the human body in flux is evident, echoing Upgrade (2018) in its depiction of involuntary transformation. However, unlike Upgrade, which explored its themes with a sharp, kinetic energy, Wolf Man feels oddly inert. The family dynamic, which should be the film’s emotional anchor, is frustratingly underdeveloped. The tension between Blake and Charlotte lacks depth, reducing their relationship to a mere setup for the inevitable carnage. Without a strong emotional core, the horror feels weightless, and the film’s attempts at suspense suffer.
Where The Invisible Man thrived on paranoia and psychological tension, Wolf Man attempts to create a similar claustrophobic dread but fumbles in execution. The couple’s choices feel forced rather than organic, making their descent into terror feel more like a scripted inevitability rather than an authentic unraveling. The film teases interesting ideas—Whannell is clearly drawn to the horror of losing control, both physically and mentally—but they never quite coalesce into something meaningful.
The Prognosis:
Visually, Whannell maintains his knack for stylish, stripped-down horror, and there are fleeting moments of genuine unease. The practical effects and creature design are commendable, but they can’t compensate for the film’s lack of narrative momentum. Despite solid performances, Wolf Man ultimately feels like a missed opportunity—a film that howls at the moon but never quite sinks its teeth in.
The world of cinema has lost one of its most unforgettable stars with the passing of Olivia Hussey. Known for her captivating performances and ethereal presence, Hussey’s career spanned decades, but it was her work in the horror genre that cemented her place in cinematic history. Her portrayal of strong, complex characters across a variety of films has left an indelible mark on both the industry and audiences alike.
Hussey’s notable role in Black Christmas (1974), directed by Bob Clark, remains one of the defining contributions to the horror genre. As Jess Bradford, a college student who becomes the target of a terrifying phone stalker during Christmas break, Hussey delivered a performance of quiet strength and vulnerability. Black Christmas would go on to become a cult classic, influencing generations of slasher films that followed, with Hussey’s chilling turn as one of its earliest heroines still resonating with fans.
Her talents transcended the genre, yet it was her return to horror that brought more unforgettable moments. In Psycho IV: The Beginning (1990), she portrayed Norma Bates, a character that brought fresh depth to the story of Norman Bates, brilliantly counterbalancing the legacy of the original Psycho films. Hussey’s portrayal imbued the role with nuance, adding a layer of sympathy to a tragic and infamous character.
In addition to these films, Hussey’s role in Turkey Shoot (1982) stands out as another testament to her versatility. This action-packed horror film saw her in a more physical, confrontational role, showcasing her ability to navigate both suspenseful terror and high-stakes action with grace and poise.
Hussey also made a memorable contribution to IT: The Mini-Series (1990), where she portrayed Audra Denbrough, the wife of Billy Denbrough (played by Richard Thomas). In this role, Hussey brought a grounded, emotional presence to the adaptation of Stephen King’s beloved novel, adding depth to the narrative and anchoring the emotional stakes of the story, particularly in her scenes alongside Thomas.
While her career spanned a wide variety of genres and roles, it was her contributions to horror that continue to influence and inspire. Olivia Hussey’s legacy in the world of film will not soon be forgotten. Her ability to convey fear, resilience, and vulnerability on screen has left an enduring impression on both her fans and the filmmakers who followed in her wake.
We remember Olivia Hussey not only for the characters she brought to life but for the profound impact she had on shaping the genre and the hearts of all who were fortunate enough to witness her performances.
Rest in peace, Olivia Hussey. You will be greatly missed.
Horror fans rejoice! The holiday season isn’t just about cheerful carols and warm cocoa—it’s also a time for blood-curdling screams, sinister Santas, and festive frights. To celebrate the darker side of Christmas, here’s our countdown of 12 horrifying holiday films to make your season as chilling as it is merry.
🎄 On the First Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: A Mogwai in a gift box! Start your holiday horror binge with Gremlins (1984), a delightful cautionary tale about the perils of ignoring pet care instructions. Joe Dante’s classic perfectly balances humour and horror, as the adorable Gizmo spawns a mischievous army of creatures that turn Christmas into a chaotic nightmare. The snowy town backdrop and holiday decorations make it the quintessential dark Christmas treat.
🎄 On the Second Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Two sinister phone calls! Black Christmas (1974) is often credited as one of the earliest slasher films, and for good reason. Its chilling premise—sorority sisters stalked by an unknown killer during the holidays—still holds up, with terrifying phone calls and a tense atmosphere. A precursor to films like Halloween, it’s a must-watch for those who like their Christmas with a side of terror.
🎄 On the Third Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Three masked killers! Forget holiday cheer—Don’t Open Till Christmas (1984) delivers sleazy, grindhouse-style carnage as a masked killer targets anyone dressed as Santa Claus. Set in London, this cult favourite oozes low-budget grit and delivers some gruesome kills. It’s the perfect antidote for anyone who finds mall Santas a little too jolly.
🎄 On the Fourth Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Four killer Santas! Few holiday horror films are as infamous as Silent Night, Deadly Night (1984). This controversial slasher caused outrage upon release with its tale of a traumatised young man who becomes a murderous Santa. Despite its campy premise, it delivers genuine chills and has earned its place as a cult classic that’s both terrifying and absurdly entertaining.
🎄 On the Fifth Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Five undead dance routines! Anna and the Apocalypse (2017) is a genre mashup like no other—a Christmas zombie musical filled with catchy songs, heartfelt moments, and buckets of blood. It’s the kind of film that shouldn’t work, but somehow does, offering a unique spin on holiday horror that will have you singing along while reaching for the popcorn.
🎄 On the Sixth Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Six buckets of gore! Terrifier 3 continues Art the Clown’s reign of terror, this time with a Christmas twist. If you’re a fan of extreme gore and unrelenting scares, this sequel delivers in spades, taking holiday horror to new, grotesque heights. It’s not for the faint of heart but will delight those who thrive on boundary-pushing frights.
🎄 On the Seventh Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Seven blood-stained axes! Christmas Blood (2017) brings a Scandinavian flavor to the killer Santa trope. This Norwegian slasher follows a maniacal Santa spreading holiday carnage across snowy landscapes. With its moody atmosphere and brutal kills, it’s a grim reminder that not all Santas are bringing gifts.
🎄 On the Eighth Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Eight clever traps! Better Watch Out (2016) is a home invasion thriller with a devilish twist that’s best experienced without spoilers. What starts as a typical holiday babysitting gig takes a sinister turn, with clever plotting and sharp performances that elevate it into one of the most entertaining Christmas horror films of recent years.
🎄 On the Ninth Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Nine rampaging reindeer! Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale (2010) reimagines Santa as a terrifying, ancient figure unearthed from the ice. This Finnish gem mixes dark humour with genuine scares, creating a unique holiday horror that’s as magical as it is menacing. And those reindeer? Let’s just say Rudolph wouldn’t stand a chance.
🎄 On the Tenth Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Ten deadly robots! Christmas Bloody Christmas (2022) answers the question: What if a robotic Santa went on a killing spree? This grindhouse-style horror revels in its absurd premise, delivering over-the-top gore, neon-soaked visuals, and a punk rock attitude that makes it a wild holiday ride.
🎄 On the Eleventh Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Eleven festive frights! Krampus (2015) brings the European legend of the titular Christmas demon to life in a darkly comedic tale of family dysfunction and festive punishment. With stunning creature effects and a sly sense of humour, Michael Dougherty’s film is a modern holiday horror classic that reminds us to stay on Santa’s good side.
🎄 On the Twelfth Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:A Ghostly Carnage for Christmas The premise of Carnage For Christmas is deeply intriguing. True crime podcaster Lola returns to her hometown for the first time since her gender transition, only to uncover a chilling mystery: has the ghost of a historic murderer risen again? This film offers a thoughtful blend of social themes and supernatural horror, making it a perfect capstone for our list.
Celebrate the Season of Screams From murderous Santas to zombie musicals, these 12 films prove that Christmas doesn’t have to be merry to be memorable. So dim the lights, grab some eggnog, and settle in for a holiday marathon that’s as horrifying as it is holly-jolly.
Mike Nichols’ Wolf offers a refreshingly mature and layered take on the werewolf mythos, eschewing the usual gore-laden spectacle for a story steeped in psychological tension, power dynamics, and human frailty. Released in 1994, this film remains a unique entry in the genre, owing much to its stellar cast and Nichols’ seasoned direction.
Jack Nicholson commands the screen as Will Randall, a middle-aged book editor whose life takes a supernatural turn after a wolf bite. Nicholson’s performance brims with subtle menace, capturing Will’s transformation with restraint and depth. It’s a testament to his range that he can imbue the character with both primal ferocity and wry charm, making this a werewolf we root for as much as we fear.
Michelle Pfeiffer is magnetic as Laura Alden, bringing a sharp wit and vulnerability to her role as the love interest caught in the storm of Will’s transformation. Her chemistry with Nicholson elevates the film, adding a touch of sensuality to the story. James Spader delivers a delightfully slimy performance as Stewart Swinton, Will’s duplicitous protégé whose ambition sets him on a collision course with his boss. Christopher Plummer’s turn as the calculating Raymond Alden rounds out the cast, his gravitas lending weight to the corporate intrigue that simmers beneath the surface.
Nichols approaches the age-old tale of lycanthropy with a refined touch, framing the werewolf curse as an allegory for midlife crises and primal urges buried beneath layers of societal decorum. The film’s central themes of power, betrayal, and rediscovery are enhanced by its corporate setting, where the hunt for dominance plays out not in forests but in boardrooms.
The cinematography by Giuseppe Rotunno is striking, particularly the way he uses shadow and light to emphasise Will’s growing connection to the animal within. Ennio Morricone’s score complements the mood perfectly, adding an eerie elegance to the proceedings.
However, Wolf is not without its shortcomings. The pacing falters at times, and the climactic showdown, while entertaining, leans into genre tropes that feel at odds with the film’s otherwise restrained tone. Additionally, the film’s blend of horror and drama doesn’t always coalesce seamlessly, leaving some moments feeling disjointed.
Despite these flaws, Wolf remains a compelling and underappreciated gem. It’s a film that dares to take a sophisticated approach to a well-trodden myth, exploring the beast within with intelligence and style. For fans of Nicholson, Pfeiffer, or anyone seeking a thoughtful twist on werewolf lore, Wolf still has plenty of bite.
Surgeons of Horror 