Tim Sullivan’s 2001 Maniacs rolls out the red carpet (and the entrails) for fans of grindhouse gore and Southern-fried sleaze, but 20 years on, its brand of horror-comedy feels more like a hangover than a hoot.

A remake of Herschell Gordon Lewis’s 1964 cult classic Two Thousand Maniacs!, the film follows a group of Spring Break-bound college kids who stumble into Pleasant Valley—a town still clinging to Confederate glory, where the annual “celebration” involves blood-drenched vengeance against unsuspecting Northerners. It’s an outrageous setup that promises over-the-top carnage, and sure enough, Sullivan delivers on that front. Bodies are torn, twisted, barbecued and dispatched in inventive (if juvenile) ways.

Robert Englund shines with his devilish turn as Mayor Buckman, clearly relishing the campy chaos, and Lin Shaye adds some deranged spice to the Southern stew. But beyond their performances, 2001 Maniacs quickly becomes a slog. The humour is crass and rarely clever, the characters are paper-thin even by genre standards, and the satire—if you can call it that—is muddled at best, offensive at worst.

Where Lewis’s original had a rough-edged grindhouse charm and a weirdly timely commentary, this update feels like an extended frat joke with a horror twist. The gore is plentiful, but the film never quite commits to saying anything with its Confederate ghost revenge plot. It’s content to wallow in stereotypes and slapstick without subverting or deepening the premise.

The Prognosis:

2001 Maniacs wants to be a wild, tongue-in-cheek bloodbath—an-d to a point, it is. But the novelty fades fast, leaving behind a film that’s more exhausting than entertaining. For die-hard splatter fans, it might still satisfy a curiosity itch. For everyone else, it’s best enjoyed with your brain firmly in neutral—and maybe a barf bag nearby.

• Saul Muerte