Shudder Original Series Series Premiere Date: December 6, 2024
Every great series has that pivotal episode, the one that redefines its boundaries and deepens its intrigue. For The Creep Tapes, Brandt is that turning point. Stripping back the usual framework of Josef manipulating his unwitting subjects, this episode flips the script by having the titular Brandt fail to show up. What unfolds is less an external game of cat-and-mouse and more an internal confrontation between Josef and his own monstrous psyche.
Without the usual dynamic to lean on, Josef is left alone in his hotel room, his performance faltering in the absence of an audience. Here, the episode takes an ambitious leap, inviting the audience into Josef’s fragmented mind. It’s a bold move, delving into the character’s warped psyche while still keeping us tethered to the unnerving energy the series thrives on. This shift could have easily derailed the show’s momentum, but it lands confidently on the right side of quality, balancing psychological horror with dark, surreal humor.
And then there’s Peachfuzz. The haunting specter of the wolf mask, once an external emblem of Josef’s menacing persona, now turns inward. As Josef stares into the mask, it’s no longer a tool of intimidation but a mirror reflecting the depths of his madness. These sequences are harrowing and hypnotic, offering the audience an uncomfortably intimate look at Josef’s inner demons.
But Brandt isn’t content with just brooding introspection. It delivers a killer blow in the final moments—one of pitch-perfect comic timing. The tonal shift is jarring in the best way, reminding us of the show’s ability to keep its audience off balance, laughing nervously even as the tension tightens.
With Brandt, The Creep Tapes continues to push boundaries, proving that it’s not afraid to take risks or challenge its own formula. This episode reframes Josef not just as a predator but as a deeply broken man wrestling with his own creation—a narrative pivot that keeps the series fresh and unsettling.
Saul Muerte
The Creep TapesSeries are currently streaming Exclusively on Shudder and AMC+
Shudder Original Series Series Premiere Date: November 29, 2024
The Creep Tapes elevates its game in Episode 4, Brad, with the arrival of Josh Ruben (Werewolves Within) as the eponymous character. Ruben’s charisma and comedic timing inject much-needed energy into the series, offering a fresh perspective on the psychological games orchestrated by Josef. As Brad, Ruben plays a failed director desperate for recognition, lured into Josef’s twisted narrative under the pretense of directing a career-defining documentary. This setup allows the episode to explore themes of vanity, ambition, and manipulation, making it one of the most compelling entries yet.
The premise—that Brad must document an already-committed murder—delivers on its chilling potential. The tension steadily builds as Brad’s ego clashes with his growing realisation of Josef’s true intentions. Ruben deftly navigates the arc of a man trapped between his aspirations and survival, delivering a performance that balances dark humor with genuine pathos. The interplay between Brad and Josef is electric, with Josef weaponising Brad’s desperation, pulling him deeper into his web of control.
Visually, Brad is one of the more cinematic episodes, with the mockumentary style heightening the sense of unease. The direction cleverly juxtaposes Brad’s dreams of grandeur with the gritty, unpolished reality of Josef’s sinister project. The episode excels in pacing, maintaining suspense while unraveling the layers of Josef’s plan. The cat-and-mouse dynamic reaches a thrilling crescendo, as Brad realises he must outsmart Josef to escape—not only with his life but his dignity intact.
However, the episode does stumble slightly in its resolution. While the tension is palpable throughout, the conclusion feels somewhat abrupt, leaving lingering questions and the moral underpinnings of Brad’s choices. Still, Brad stands out as a high point in The Creep Tapes, showcasing the series’ ability to delve deeper into the psychological and emotional complexities of its characters.
Saul Muerte
The Creep TapesSeries are currently streaming Exclusively on Shudder and AMC+
Shudder Original Series Series Premiere Date: November 22, 2024
In “Jeremy,” The Creep Tapes continues its deep dive into unsettling territory with a narrative that centers on lust, shame, and deceit. The titular character Jeremy is a burgeoning YouTuber who hosts a show titled Gotcha!, dedicated to exposing controversial figures. His latest subject, a self-proclaimed priest, leads him directly into the orbit of Josef, the infamous serial killer from the series. What begins as a seemingly bold exposé unravels into a chilling game, with Jeremy’s curiosity and hubris placing him squarely in Josef’s sights.
Mark Duplass returns as Josef, delivering a character performance steeped in manipulative charm and sinister undertones. While it’s always intriguing to see Duplass breathe life into this calculating villain, the narrative risks becoming repetitive. Josef’s tactics, while terrifying, are increasingly predictable, stripping some of the tension that earlier episodes had so masterfully constructed. Jeremy’s arc, though compelling in concept, doesn’t quite break the mold, relying on familiar tropes of an unsuspecting victim lured by a dangerous predator.
Where the episode shines is in its exploration of themes. Lust and shame are woven into the fabric of Jeremy’s interactions with Josef, underscored by a theological backdrop that highlights the dangers of blind faith and deception. Unfortunately, these elements are undermined by uneven pacing and a lack of innovation in the series’ now-established formula.
At its halfway point, The Creep Tapes risks stagnation unless it takes bold narrative leaps to freshen Josef’s story. While “Jeremy” is a serviceable entry with moments of dread and intrigue, it doesn’t quite match the impact of earlier episodes. If the series can shift gears and surprise viewers, there’s hope it will regain its momentum.
Saul Muerte
The Creep TapesSeries are currently streaming Exclusively on Shudder and AMC+
As horror fans know, some of the most unsettling scares don’t come from elaborate effects or high budgets—they emerge from intimate, character-driven stories that crawl under the skin. The Creep Tapes, a Shudder Original Series premiering on November 15, aims to deliver just that. Building on the spine-tingling foundation of the 2014 cult hit Creep, the series reunites the original creators, Mark Duplass and Patrick Brice, who brought us the disturbingly charming yet unnervingly unstable protagonist, Josef. With Duplass returning to the role of the enigmatic serial killer, this series promises an eerie experience that pushes boundaries and keeps audiences riveted.
The original Creep film thrived on its low-budget charm, turning a stripped-down, found-footage setup into an intensely unsettling experience. The series appears poised to follow suit, proving once again that horror doesn’t need lavish sets or CGI to get viewers’ hearts pounding. Here, the atmosphere is everything—raw, grainy footage brings a voyeuristic quality that makes each scene feel real, as if the terror is unfolding in the next room over. The simplicity of the setup—a videographer unknowingly documenting his own descent into darkness—creates a dread that builds with every frame. With The Creep Tapes, Shudder taps into the appeal of Creep and Creep 2, delivering a gritty, claustrophobic look into the killer’s mind that only becomes more menacing with each episode.
At the heart of this series’ potential is Duplass’s haunting performance. His portrayal of a maniac whose motives are as confusing as they are sinister is nothing short of mesmerising. Playing a predator who is both disarming and unhinged, Duplass infuses the character with a subtle, unpredictable menace that’s as charming as it is chilling. It’s this very duality that made the original film so effective, drawing audiences in with Josef’s unsettlingly friendly nature only to shatter any semblance of safety with his underlying menace. With Duplass back at the helm, viewers can expect an even deeper dive into this chilling character, one that will likely push The Creep Tapes into “must-watch” territory for horror fans seeking psychological tension and atmosphere over jump scares.
This new series amplifies the simplicity that made the original such a success. As each videographer steps into Josef’s twisted game, the narrative explores not only their harrowing experiences but the dangerously manipulative charms of the killer himself. The viewer becomes a silent observer, drawn closer and closer to the horrors unfolding on screen. And with Duplass and Brice’s creative control, fans can expect a series that honours the first two films while expanding the lore, providing more insight into the mind of this manipulative predator and his increasingly sinister tactics.
For those looking for horror that strips away Hollywood polish to reveal something raw, The Creep Tapes may be a dark horse that leaves a lasting impression. In an age of sleek, glossy productions, Duplass’s Josef reminds us that horror is sometimes most potent when it’s uncomfortably close, blurred, and right in your face. Prepare for The Creep Tapes to lure you in and make you question if you’re ever truly alone—on or off camera.
Saul Muerte
The Creep Tapes – Shudder Original Seriespremieres exclusively on Shudder and AMC+ from Friday 15 November
– Saul will be posting weekly ep reviews each week, so keep your eyes peeled.
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.
“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.
MadS, premiering on Shudder Fri Oct 18th, delivers a unique and haunting cinematic experience, thanks to its audacious one-shot technique. The film tells a harrowing end-of-the-world story through a slow, decaying unraveling of both its characters and their reality. With its seamless visual style, MadS manages to capture a gripping narrative that is both unsettling and unnervingly intimate.
The story follows Romain, played by Milton Riche, a teenager who tests a new drug from his dealer before heading out for a night of partying. Things take a surreal and nightmarish turn when he picks up an injured woman on the way home. As the night spirals out of control, reality begins to fracture, plunging both Romain and the audience into a world of escalating chaos. This disorienting experience is heightened by the film’s single-take format, which immerses viewers directly in the action.
What sets MadS apart is how it masterfully manages its pacing. The one-shot technique could have easily felt gimmicky, but here, it enhances the story’s deeply unsettling atmosphere. The slow unraveling of Romain’s night—and his sanity—feels organic and relentless, with each moment of dread lingering uncomfortably long. The film’s technical precision allows every interaction and event to build tension, which only increases as Romain’s relationship with his girlfriend Anaïs (Lucille Guillaume) begins to fray under the weight of the night’s growing horror.
Milton Riche’s performance as Romain is both raw and captivating. He skillfully portrays Romain’s descent into fear and confusion, making the character’s unraveling feel authentic and deeply affecting. His gradual shift from casual indifference to desperate panic drives the film’s emotional core. Lucille Guillaume, playing Anaïs, brings a grounded intensity to her role, offering a fragile yet determined counterbalance to Romain’s increasingly erratic behavior.
The film’s technical prowess extends beyond its performances, as the one-shot approach works in tandem with moody lighting and a haunting soundscape to amplify the film’s surreal atmosphere. The unbroken, continuous shot offers no escape from the mounting tension, leaving viewers trapped alongside Romain as he navigates dark streets, ominous encounters, and the looming threat of an unseen, pervasive force.
While MadS dips into abstract and surreal territory, leaving parts of its story open to interpretation, this ambiguity works in its favor. The film thrives on its ability to create discomfort and uncertainty, making every moment feel unpredictable and charged with menace. Its dreamlike quality makes the viewer question what is real and what is the product of Romain’s altered state, adding to the growing sense of helplessness.
At its core, MadS is about the fear of losing control—over oneself, one’s reality, and the future. This exploration of chaos and disintegration, both personal and external, is captured in every frame, making it a haunting and thought-provoking film.
The Prognosis:
MadS delivers a chilling and captivating one-shot experience. Its unique style, unsettling performances, and slow-burn tension make it a standout feature on Shudder. For fans of immersive, psychological horror, MadS is a must-watch, offering a powerful reflection on the fragility of reality when chaos takes hold.
Few films have had as lasting and significant an impact on the horror genre as Bob Clark’s Black Christmas (1974). Often considered one of the earliest and most influential slasher films, this Canadian cult classic set the stage for an entire subgenre, crafting many of the tropes and techniques that would come to define horror for decades. Despite being overshadowed by later films like Halloween and Friday the 13th, Black Christmas deserves recognition for pioneering the slasher formula with a chilling, understated approach that remains terrifying even today.
At first glance, Black Christmas may appear deceptively simple: a group of sorority sisters are terrorized by a mysterious killer during the holiday season. However, beneath this surface lies a film that is far more unsettling and artfully constructed than the plot might suggest. The film centers on a sorority house where a series of disturbing phone calls from an anonymous stalker escalates into a killing spree, leaving the women inside fighting for their lives. What makes Black Christmas stand out, even now, is its unnerving atmosphere, psychological horror, and narrative ambiguity.
Though Black Christmas wasn’t the first horror film to feature a mysterious killer stalking victims, it was among the first to codify many of the key elements of the slasher genre. The killer is hidden, only referred to as “Billy,” and his identity is never revealed. This creates a terrifying sense of anonymity, leaving viewers unsettled and guessing throughout. The film’s signature technique of showing the killer’s point of view through a shaky, handheld camera, often as he lurks inside the sorority house, was a novel approach at the time. This perspective not only put the audience uncomfortably close to the villain but also emphasized the voyeuristic nature of the genre, which would become a hallmark of slasher films.
Furthermore, Black Christmas introduced another crucial element to the slasher formula: the final girl. Jess (played by Olivia Hussey) serves as the prototype for what would become a defining archetype in horror films. She is resourceful, determined, and morally complex, facing down not just the threat of the killer but also grappling with difficult personal decisions, such as her unplanned pregnancy. While Halloween’s Laurie Strode may get most of the credit as the iconic final girl, it was Jess who paved the way.
What truly sets Black Christmas apart is its refusal to rely on cheap jump scares or excessive gore. Bob Clark, who would ironically go on to direct the holiday classic A Christmas Story, leans heavily into psychological horror. The film’s pacing is slow but deliberate, building tension in a way that mirrors the growing paranoia and terror within the sorority house. The mysterious phone calls—featuring unsettling, incoherent babbling and eerie voices—play a significant role in creating a pervasive sense of dread. These moments are perhaps some of the most unnerving in the film, as they tap into the fear of the unknown. We never truly understand who “Billy” is or why he is targeting these women, and this ambiguity is far more terrifying than any clear motive.
There’s also a layer of ambiguity in the way the story ends. The final moments of the film leave the audience in a state of unease, as we realize that the killer may still be lurking inside the house. It’s a haunting conclusion that forgoes the catharsis of resolution, instead opting to leave viewers with lingering questions. This open-endedness not only subverts expectations but also keeps the fear alive long after the credits roll.
Despite Black Christmas’s relatively modest success at the box office, its influence on the genre cannot be overstated. Released four years before Halloween, it laid much of the groundwork that John Carpenter would refine to perfection. The trope of an unstoppable, unseen killer, the use of holiday settings as a backdrop for horror, and the idea of a final girl all originated here. Films like Friday the 13th (1980), A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), and Scream (1996) would later take these concepts and run with them, but Black Christmas remains their precursor.
Moreover, Black Christmas redefined the role of women in horror films. While earlier horror often portrayed female characters as passive victims, this film empowered its female leads with agency and complexity. Jess, in particular, challenges the conventions of morality and survival that would later be expanded upon in the genre. This emphasis on strong female protagonists would become a defining characteristic of slasher films in the years to come.
Nearly 50 years after its release, Black Christmas retains its ability to shock and unsettle. Its stark portrayal of violence, coupled with its minimalistic style, lends it a timeless quality that feels just as disturbing today as it did in 1974. While it may not have the same widespread recognition as some of the films it influenced, its legacy is undeniable. The way it skillfully balances psychological horror, tension, and brutal realism set it apart from its contemporaries and continues to resonate with audiences, reminding us that true terror often lies in what we don’t see.
The Prognosis:
In the annals of horror, Black Christmas stands as a groundbreaking film that helped shape the slasher genre and define its future trajectory. Bob Clark’s minimalist approach, the chilling atmosphere, and the deeply unsettling narrative make it a landmark of horror cinema. For any fan of the genre, Black Christmas is essential viewing, both as a pioneering work and as a timeless masterpiece of fear.
Shudder’s latest original, Daddy’s Head, follows a path well-trodden in horror, diving into themes of grief, mental health, and the complicated relationship between a grieving child and a struggling stepmother. While these are common threads in horror cinema, Daddy’s Head still manages to carve out moments of eerie tension that linger long after the film’s conclusion.
Set in the vast isolation of a rural estate, the film places the young boy at its emotional core. His confusion and loss after the sudden death of his father create an unsettling atmosphere, one that is heightened by his stepmother’s emotional distance. As the boy becomes haunted by a grotesque creature resembling his father, his stepmother dismisses his warnings, believing them to be mere figments of a grieving mind. This dismissal, of course, only tightens the grip of the sinister entity, with the boy’s warnings becoming more urgent.
Where Daddy’s Head shines is in the execution of its most disturbing moments. The eerie sounds echoing through the halls, the glimpses of the monstrous father figure, and the growing tension between the boy and his stepmother all contribute to a sense of creeping dread. The film effectively taps into the fear of being ignored when something truly menacing is lurking just out of sight.
However, it’s hard to ignore that Daddy’s Head leans heavily on well-known tropes. The child who sees what the adults don’t, the stepmother struggling to fill the role of parent, and the supernatural manifestation of unresolved grief all feel familiar. While the film crafts a decent narrative around these elements, it doesn’t quite escape the shadow of similar films that have come before it.
The Prognosis:
In spite of its predictability, Daddy’s Head does manage to resonate thanks to its haunting moments and unsettling creature design. It won’t revolutionise the genre, but it crafts a sufficiently sinister tale that horror fans will find some satisfaction in.
Saul Muerte
Daddy’s Head premieres Exclusively on Shudder and AMC+ Friday 11 October
It’s What’s Inside delivers a twisted, high-concept psychological thriller, exploring the dark side of identity, body swapping, and the lengths people will go to when driven by revenge, jealousy, and ambition. Directed by Greg Jardin, the film’s central premise—the manipulation of bodies and identities through a cutting-edge device—presents a disturbing reflection on the cost of transformation, both physical and moral.
The story revolves around a group of friends who reunite at Reuben’s (Devon Terrell) house for a pre-wedding party. Amid the celebration, their estranged friend Forbes (David W. Thompson) reappears, carrying a strange device that allows its users to swap bodies with one another. What begins as a game quickly spirals into chaos as lies are exposed, hidden desires come to light, and deep-seated grudges from their college days erupt with deadly consequences.
The film’s greatest strength lies in its unsettling portrayal of how changing one’s body—whether for vanity, power, or escape—can expose the true, often corrupt, personalities that lie within. As the group engages in their body-swapping game, it becomes clear that their outward transformations only serve to amplify their internal flaws. Forbes’s invention doesn’t just allow the characters to slip into new skins; it brings out the darkness they’ve hidden beneath the surface. As identities blur and alliances crumble, each character is forced to confront the parts of themselves they’ve tried to repress, revealing a disturbing lack of empathy and moral decay.
One of the most compelling elements of It’s What’s Inside is its critique of a generation that has lost sight of its purpose. The characters—consumed by a need for success, revenge, and personal gain—are driven by their ambitions with little concern for the consequences. Shelby (Brittany O’Grady), who eagerly embraces her newfound appearance after swapping into Nikki’s (Alycia Debnam-Carey) body, exemplifies this obsession with image and social media status. Meanwhile, Cyrus’s (James Morosini) jealousy and insecurity bubble over as he navigates the body-swapping game, becoming a key player in the film’s explosive climax. The group, so intent on achieving what they believe to be success, revenge, or escape, fail to realize the dangers of playing with their identities until it’s too late.
As the narrative escalates, we see the tragic consequences of their actions—deaths, betrayal, and a complete breakdown of trust including a shocking demise during the second round of body swapping sets the stage for the film’s darker turn, as Forbes, Shelby, and the others begin to unravel, trapped in a vicious cycle of lies and deception. The notion of swapping bodies as a game becomes a perverse metaphor for youth’s reckless pursuit of validation, where nothing—including one’s own identity—is sacred or permanent.
The ending leaves a lasting impression, and a final twist of revenge, leaving the audience and its players in a world where no one’s identity is fixed and everyone is willing to sacrifice their true selves for personal gain, It’s What’s Inside raises unsettling questions about the lengths people will go to control their own narratives. Even after the dust settles, the repercussions of the group’s actions hang over them, leaving the audience with an eerie sense of inevitability.
The Prognosis:
It’s What’s Inside offers a disturbing exploration of identity, revenge, and the corrupting influence of ambition. While the plot occasionally stumbles under the weight of its complex narrative, the film still manages to deliver a chilling commentary on the cost of changing one’s body, and by extension, oneself. As youth grapples with the allure of success and validation, the film serves as a cautionary tale of how easily one can lose sight of who they truly are. With its unsettling atmosphere and darkly intriguing concept, It’s What’s Inside lingers in the mind, reminding us that the greatest horrors come from within.
Saul Muerte
It’s What’s Inside is currently streaming on Netflix.
Surgeons of Horror 