Resident Evil finally understands that survival horror works best when the hero is underprepared, the ammunition is scarce and every locked door feels more threatening than another lecture about Umbrella Corporation lore.
Hope begins like a mystery whispered through a rural town and gradually turns into a creature-feature stampede, losing some of its dread as its scale expands.
Onslaught has the cast, gore and Carpenter worship to be a midnight-movie blast, but its slow burn leads to a payoff that feels more familiar than ferocious.
Buddy is at its funniest and creepiest when its smiling orange unicorn behaves as if murder is simply another lesson of the day.
Amelia Eve gives the series a sturdy new lead, while dental nightmares, collapsing spaces and a terrific pillow-fort sequence keep a familiar supernatural formula intermittently alive.
Train to Busan remains one of the defining zombie movies of its era, marrying relentless action to a father-daughter story that hits harder on a theater screen.
A feverish reclamation of slasher mythology, powered by the charged chemistry of Hannah Einbinder and Gillian Anderson.
A wonderfully grotesque practical Pinocchio and Robert Englund’s sinister Cricket give this public-domain slasher more personality than its disposable human story.
A ferocious collection of practical set pieces gives Evil Dead fresh energy, even when its family trauma is more effective as fuel than drama.
Anna Faris and Regina Hall remain fearless comic performers in a revival that confuses naming recent movies with actually parodying them.
Hand-built corridors and distorted memories make Backrooms a remarkable horror debut, but explanation and character drama keep interrupting its strongest spell.
Inde Navarrette gives a fearless breakout performance in a darkly funny nightmare that transforms romantic fantasy into a violation of free will.
