Previous Film Reviews
One-Two this Re-watch is for you: A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) Still Delivers Chilling Brilliance
“Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep.”
It’s not often that a nearly 40-year-old horror film manages to feel fresh, frightening, and emotionally relevant—but Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) does just that. Experiencing this classic for the hundredth-ish time, I am still pleased not only by its unsettling scares, but by its layered themes, creative storytelling, and surprisingly modern heroine.
While many of its slasher-era contemporaries have aged into mere relics of a bygone genre, Elm Street endures—and even thrives—because it has something that most horror films don’t: vision.
Released in 1984, even though American culture seemed to love the thrill of the slasher horror movie, the genre has started to become a bit stale. By this time Friday the 13th had already released three films with no indication that it would be slowing down and Michael Meyers had already made two film appearances and was well on its way to having a cult-like following. Everyone was desperately looking for something fresh and, well, different.
Freddy Krueger: Horror’s Most Haunting Innovation
Enter Wes Craven and his unique ability to not only understand his own fears, but create new fears for others. When someone says “New fear unlocked”, I think Wes smiles down on us from above. Combining several terrifying memories from his childhood, Wes created the chilling concept of Freddy Kruger - and cemented his legacy in filmmaking (at least in my opinion).
To be fair, by the time Nightmare was released in 1984, Craven had already been associated with other classics The Last House on the Left, The Hills Have Eyes, and Swamp Thing. But, nothing as genius as Nightmare.
And, lets face it. It doesn’t matter if you like the film franchise or not, it’s brilliant because the enemy isn’t hiding in the woods, in the closet, in the shrubs. No, Freddy comes to you in your dreams. Making all of your dreams Nightmares. Everyone has nightmares from time to time - it's just something that the brain thinks is a good idea (No, I don’t know why. No one really knows why we dream).
Freddy Krueger isn’t your typical masked killer. He’s smart, cruel, and charismatic in a grotesque way. What truly sets him apart is his domain—the dream world. Where do you go when the monster lives in your mind? You can’t escape sleep forever.
As a villain, Freddy still feels fresh. He’s more than a threat; he’s a metaphor for trauma, buried guilt, and generational sins that won’t stay hidden. His power stems not just from his claws, but from his victims’ fear—and that’s where the horror truly lands.
Nancy Thompson: A Final Girl Ahead of Her Time
In an era where many female leads in horror were passive screamers, Nancy Thompson stands tall as a blueprint for the intelligent, empowered Final Girl. Her journey from high school student to self-reliant warrior is one of the film’s best surprises.
Nancy doesn’t just survive—she strategizes. She sets traps. She researches. And ultimately, she defeats Freddy not with brute strength, but with bravery and resolve. Her ability to strip Freddy of his power by refusing to fear him feels almost revolutionary.
In 2025, audiences crave strong, complex heroines. Nancy fits perfectly into that mold, decades ahead of her time.
Visuals That Blur Reality and Nightmare
Despite its age, A Nightmare on Elm Street remains visually arresting. Practical effects, eerie dream logic, and surreal set pieces make for an unsettling viewing experience. From the unforgettable scene of Freddy stretching his arms in the alley, to the blood-geyser eruption from Johnny Depp’s bed, every moment is deliberately crafted to disorient and disturb.
Wes Craven uses cinematography and sound not just for jump scares, but to sustain dread. The line between dreams and reality blurs more with each scene—and by the end, you're not sure where safety begins or ends.
Horror With Depth
What elevates Elm Street beyond simple slasher fare is its thematic weight. At its core, this is a story about the failures of adults, the scars they leave behind, and the burdens their children are forced to bear. Freddy’s existence is the result of a vigilante act, covered up and forgotten—until it returns to haunt a new generation.
It’s a story about unacknowledged trauma—and that’s why it still resonates today.
Final Thoughts
Watching A Nightmare on Elm Street in 2025 is a reminder of what horror is capable of when it’s fueled by imagination and purpose. It’s scary, yes—but also smart, strange, and deeply human.
Whether you're a horror newcomer or a seasoned fan, this film deserves a fresh look. It’s not just a product of its time—it’s a warning that nightmares, like buried truths, don’t stay down for long.
Rating: 10/10
Still a nightmare worth dreaming.


June 2025: Review: Nosferatu (2024) — A Lurid Lullaby of Gothic Dread
★★★★☆
Robert Eggers' Nosferatu is not just a remake—it’s a resurrection, and one performed with the care of an artist exhuming an ancient body for study, reverence, and fear. Drawing from the spectral bones of F.W. Murnau’s 1922 silent classic, this 2024 iteration breathes new (or undead) life into the vampire mythos with a brooding elegance that refuses to be rushed.
From the first frames, the film announces itself as something different. Eggers doesn't rely on jump scares or cheap thrills. Instead, he weaves dread slowly, like a fog crawling over cobblestone streets. Shot on 35mm by Jarin Blaschke, the cinematography evokes turn-of-the-century engravings—every image a painting, every shadow a whisper. The nearly monochrome palette isn't just a stylistic flourish; it’s a gateway into the film’s melancholic tone, as if the entire world is on the verge of withering under Count Orlok’s gaze.
And what a gaze it is. Bill Skarsgård’s performance as Orlok is nothing short of hypnotic. Hidden beneath layers of eerie prosthetics and yet strangely expressive, Skarsgård turns the vampire into a creature not only of hunger but of loneliness. He’s not a suave predator, but a plague—gaunt, grotesque, and mournful. The real revelation, however, is Lily-Rose Depp as Ellen Hutter. Her portrayal brims with a haunted resolve, giving Ellen the spine and sorrow of a woman carrying centuries of inherited fear and forgotten strength. Nicholas Hoult, as Thomas, grounds the narrative in quiet desperation, a man unraveling in a world he cannot comprehend.
Eggers leans heavily into the psychological, reimagining Orlok not simply as a monster but as a manifestation of forbidden desires, repressed grief, and unhealed trauma. Ellen’s descent into obsession—and eventual defiance—is more than a gothic trope; it’s a tragedy laced with agency. The horror comes not only from what Orlok is, but from what he awakens in others.
The score, composed by Robin Carolan, is another triumph. Rather than drenching the film in the typical orchestral shrieks of horror, it favors aching strings, funereal bells, and sonic textures that hum with unease. It’s less a soundtrack than a slow chant, a lullaby for the damned.
If Nosferatu falters, it's in its deliberate pace. Viewers accustomed to high-octane horror may find themselves restless. But for those willing to surrender to the film’s meditative rhythm, there are rewards in every frame. This is a movie that doesn’t tell you to be afraid—it trusts you’ll find the fear yourself, in the long silences, the candlelit corridors, the quiet cruelty of a glance.
There are also those who may wish Eggers had pushed harder, faster, or further into the depths of terror. But that misses the point. Nosferatu is not a scream; it's a murmur in the dark. It's the creak of an old coffin in your dreams, the scrape of something ancient beneath your floorboards.
Eggers has crafted a film that honors its source material while making bold artistic choices. It's not a crowd-pleaser, but a mood piece—an invitation to surrender to shadows. And for that, it earns a solid four stars.
Recommended for fans of slow-burn horror, classic vampire lore, and the kind of movie that lingers long after the credits crawl.
Rating: 8/10
Vampires are starting to become scary again.
July 2025: Jaws (1975): A Timeless Masterpiece at 50, Still Ruling the Waves
Fifty years after its seismic release, Jaws remains not just a landmark of cinema but a cultural phenomenon that redefined storytelling, audience terror, and the very concept of a “blockbuster.” Directed by the then-27-year-old Steven Spielberg, this shark-centric thriller isn’t just a summer smash—it’s a technical, emotional, and narrative triumph that holds up with terrifying clarity today.
The Anatomy of Perfection
Spielberg’s genius lies in restraint. The shark’s frequent mechanical failures on set became an unspoken gift: by keeping the titular beast mostly hidden, the film transforms a great white into a shadowy bogeyman, amplifying suspense to a near-physical level. The score—a pulsing, minimalist two-note motif by John Williams—has become synonymous with dread, etching itself into the collective unconscious. Every scene in the water feels like a countdown, with Spielberg’s camera angles and sound design ensuring even a ripple becomes a threat.
Characters Worth Swimming With
The human drama anchors the chaos. Roy Scheider’s Chief Brody is a man of duty crumbling under pressure, while Richard Dreyfuss’s neurotic ichthyologist, Matt Hooper, and Robert Shaw’s brooding, myth-spewing Quint (a tour de force) create a trio as iconic as any in film history. Their final, harrowing showdown with the shark is a masterclass in escalating tension, blending black humor, existential fury, and raw, visceral horror.
Legacy That Outswims Time
Jaws didn’t just start a franchise; it birthed the modern blockbuster era. Its $4.7 million budget earned over $470 million in its initial release (adjusted for inflation, it’s still one of the highest-grossing films ever). But its real power lies in its timelessness. The themes—hubris, nature’s indifference, the cost of secrets—feel urgently relevant. The film’s blend of practical effects, human vulnerability, and psychological depth hasn’t aged a day.
A Cultural Tsunami
Beyond the screen, Jaws reshaped Hollywood’s calendar (the “summer blockbuster” was its invention), influenced a generation of filmmakers, and even impacted real-world behavior (shark tourism dipped, and beachgoers nervously scanned horizons for decades). Spielberg’s vision was so potent that the shark’s absence became its greatest strength—a lesson in how less can be infinitely more.
Final Verdict: Eternal
In 2025, Jaws isn’t just a relic; it’s a blueprint. Its ability to scare, unsettle, and captivate hasn’t dimmed. The 50th anniversary isn’t just a celebration of a movie—it’s a reminder of cinema’s power to terrify, thrill, and linger in the soul. Spielberg’s shark didn’t just swim into history; it took audiences with it, and we’re still riding the current.
Rating: 9/10
Its easy to see why this movie is timeless. We still have an oceans and there are still sharks dwelling in them. So, if an ocean trip is in your future, do your best to stay close to shore.... but even that may not save you.
August Double Feature! Until Dawn (2025) and Evil Dead (1981)
🎬 Review: Until Dawn (2025)
Release Date: July 2025
Platform: Netflix
Director: David F. Sandberg (Lights Out, Annabelle: Creation)
Runtime: 103 minutes
Genre: Horror / Slasher / Supernatural
⭐ Overall Rating: ★★★★☆ (4/5)
Until Dawn isn’t a perfect adaptation of the beloved PlayStation game—but as a fun, bloody, self-aware horror flick, it succeeds. Think less “faithful retelling” and more “creative spin,” with a mix of slasher thrills, occult creepiness, and time-loop chaos.
📝 The Premise
Instead of recreating the snowy lodge setting from the game, Netflix’s Until Dawn shifts the action to Glore Valley, where a group of teens discovers they’re trapped in a deadly loop. Every time one of them dies, the clock resets, forcing them to relive their fate in new and bloody ways.
This bold change allows the movie to mash up multiple horror subgenres—slasher, supernatural, even meta-comedy—without ever dragging.
🎭 The Cast
Ella Rubin as Clover – strong lead presence.
Michael Cimino as Max – charismatic, keeps the energy up.
Odessa A’zion as Nina – snarky comic relief that works.
Ji-young Yoo as Megan – standout performance, delivering emotional depth as the psychic of the group.
The cast embraces the campy tone, and their chemistry helps keep the movie engaging—even when the mythology gets a little messy.
🔪 What Works
✅ Inventive use of the time loop – every death feels fresh and frantic.
✅ Bloody good fun – gore effects are playful and creative.
✅ Pacing – at 103 minutes, it’s fast, fun, and never overstays its welcome.
✅ Humor & self-awareness – knows it’s a horror movie and has fun with the tropes.
⚠️ What Doesn’t Work
❌ Not faithful to the game – fans looking for a direct adaptation of the snowy lodge storyline may be disappointed.
❌ Thin character writing – aside from Megan, most characters lean more on archetypes than development.
❌ Vague mythology – the supernatural elements aren’t always clearly explained.
🎯 Final Verdict
If you’re expecting a direct, choice-driven adaptation of the PlayStation classic, Until Dawn may not be what you’re looking for. But if you want a stylish, campy horror movie that knows exactly what it is, then this Netflix original is absolutely worth your time.
It’s bloody, it’s fun, and it’s got just enough bite to keep horror fans satisfied. Perfect for a late-night binge with the lights off.
👉 Watch it if you like: Happy Death Day, Final Destination, or The Babysitter.
🎬 Review: The Evil Dead (1981)
Release Date: 1981
Director: Sam Raimi (Spider-Man Trilogy, Drag Me to Hell)
Runtime: 85 minutes
Genre: Horror / Supernatural / Cult Classic
⭐ Overall Rating: ★★★★½ (4.5/5)
Few horror films have earned cult status quite like The Evil Dead. Shot on a shoestring budget in the Tennessee woods, Sam Raimi’s directorial debut blends relentless terror with outrageous creativity, resulting in one of the most iconic cabin-in-the-woods movies of all time. It’s grisly, raw, and chaotic—and that’s exactly what makes it unforgettable.
📝 The Premise
Five friends travel to a remote cabin for a weekend getaway. When they find the mysterious “Book of the Dead” and accidentally unleash an ancient evil, the woods come alive with demonic forces. One by one, the group is possessed until only one survivor remains in a nightmarish fight for survival.
Simple premise. Legendary execution.
🎭 The Cast
Bruce Campbell as Ash Williams – His transformation from an everyman to a horror icon is the heart of the film.
Ellen Sandweiss as Cheryl – Delivers one of the most chilling “possessed” performances.
Hal Delrich, Betsy Baker, Theresa Tilly – The rest of the doomed crew sell the chaos and terror.
Though the acting sometimes shows the cast’s inexperience, it works in the movie’s favor, adding a raw, unsettling quality.
🔪 What Works
✅ Inventive direction – Sam Raimi’s kinetic camera work and practical effects make the film feel alive.
✅ Practical gore effects – Over-the-top blood, prosthetics, and stop-motion claymation remain iconic.
✅ Atmosphere – Claustrophobic cabin, eerie woods, and relentless sound design trap the audience in terror.
✅ Bruce Campbell – This film gave horror fans their ultimate “everyman hero.”
⚠️ What Doesn’t Work
❌ Low-budget roughness – Some effects are dated, and the acting can feel wooden at times.
❌ Relentless tone – The film offers little relief; it’s grim, bleak, and unrelenting. (For some, that’s a plus.)
🎯 Final Verdict
The Evil Dead (1981) is a landmark in horror filmmaking. What Raimi and Campbell accomplished with so little money is nothing short of remarkable. It’s terrifying, inventive, and soaked in gore—an endurance test that defined the cabin-in-the-woods subgenre.
For fans of horror history, this is essential viewing. It’s raw, it’s bloody, and it paved the way for horror franchises, horror comedies, and Raimi’s future Hollywood success.
👉 Watch it if you like: The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, Re-Animator, or The Thing.


September 2025 Movie Review: The Monster Squad (1987)
If you grew up in the 1980s, you know that decade had a magic of its own: neon-lit suburbs, BMX bikes, monster magazines, and kids who somehow saved the world while their parents remained oblivious. Few films embody that essence as well as The Monster Squad (1987), a cult classic directed by Fred Dekker and co-written with Shane Black.
This movie is a love letter to classic Universal Monsters, filtered through the mischievous lens of the 80s—equal parts horror, comedy, and heartfelt adventure. It asks a simple but unforgettable question: What if all the great movie monsters teamed up, and only a group of kids stood in their way?
That Iconic 80s Feel
From the very first shot, you know you’re in for pure 80s energy. The score by Bruce Broughton mixes ominous gothic tones with synth-heavy beats that scream “Reagan-era adventure.” The fashion is equally telling: denim jackets, high-top sneakers, and the occasional monster-themed T-shirt.
The movie lands firmly in the same nostalgic space as The Goonies (1985), Gremlins (1984), and E.T. (1982)—but with a horror edge that gave it cult longevity. It’s brash, a little irreverent, and just edgy enough that you probably shouldn’t have watched it as a kid—but you did anyway.
The Monsters
What makes The Monster Squad so enduring is how it resurrects the pantheon of classic monsters:
Dracula (Duncan Regehr): No sparkle, no romance, just pure menace. He’s ruthless, manipulative, and even threatens children—a bold move that gave the film its darker edge.
The Wolfman (Carl Thibault, with voice by Jon Gries): Tragic and tortured, his human side tries desperately to warn others. And yes, he does indeed have “nards”—a line that remains one of the most quoted in cult cinema history.
The Gill-Man (Tom Woodruff Jr.): Clearly inspired by the 1954 Creature from the Black Lagoon, this amphibious terror has limited screen time but leaves a lasting impression thanks to the incredible costume work.
The Mummy (Michael Reid MacKay): A shambling, decaying figure who brings an eerie classic horror vibe to the group.
Frankenstein’s Monster (Tom Noonan): Perhaps the film’s heart. Gentle, misunderstood, and ultimately heroic, his friendship with Phoebe (Ashley Bank) is one of the movie’s most tender arcs.
Each monster is realized with practical effects that have aged surprisingly well, thanks to Stan Winston and his team. There’s a tactile weight and creepiness that CGI still struggles to capture.
The Squad
Andre Gower (Sean Crenshaw): The leader, horror-obsessed and always ready to take charge. Andre went on to appear in TV but largely stepped away from Hollywood, later becoming an advocate for preserving the legacy of The Monster Squad.
Robby Kiger (Patrick): Sean’s loyal best friend. Kiger’s career in Hollywood was brief, with this being his most memorable role.
Ryan Lambert (Rudy): The cool kid with the leather jacket, smoking habit, and monster-fighting precision. Lambert later found success as a musician.
Brent Chalem (Horace): The “fat kid” who becomes the film’s surprise hero, with the unforgettable line, “My name… is Horace!” Tragically, Chalem passed away at the age of 22 in 1997, giving his role a bittersweet weight today.
Ashley Bank (Phoebe): The youngest member, whose bond with Frankenstein adds heart to the story. Bank stepped away from acting but still appears at reunions and conventions.
The child actors bring genuine charm, and though some never pursued major Hollywood careers, their work here became immortal through VHS tapes and late-night cable reruns.
Curses and Behind-the-Scenes Legends
Unlike other horror films rumored to be “cursed” (Poltergeist being the most infamous), The Monster Squad didn’t have supernatural incidents on set. However, fans sometimes point to the tragic early death of Brent Chalem (Horace) as the film’s “curse.” His death from pneumonia at such a young age cast a shadow on the otherwise nostalgic cult status of the movie.
Another form of “curse” was its initial box office failure. Released in 1987, it was crushed by competition (The Lost Boys and Robocop that summer were juggernauts). The film barely made back its budget, only finding its audience years later through VHS rentals, cable airings, and fan-driven conventions.
Critical Response
Upon release, The Monster Squad received mixed reviews. Critics dismissed it as a Goonies knockoff with too much violence for kids and too much kid-focus for adults.
Roger Ebert gave it a lukewarm review, calling it “a good idea with too little heart to really matter.”
Variety noted its “slick monster effects” but argued it “fails to find its audience.”
But time has been kind. Modern critics celebrate it as a cult gem, with Rotten Tomatoes now listing it with a respectable audience score. The film is regularly screened at midnight movie events, and documentaries like Wolfman’s Got Nards (2018) have cemented its legacy.
Steve the Author’s Final Word
As someone who grew up with monster movies and still loves the blend of camp and horror, I can’t help but give The Monster Squad my highest praise. It’s a film that understands the love of monsters, the spirit of childhood adventure, and the bittersweet ache of nostalgia.
The effects still thrill. The monsters still scare (and charm). The kids still feel real. And that last scene with Frankenstein reaching out for Phoebe—heartbreaking and perfect.
⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
Five Stars. Two Thumbs Up.
This is one squad you’ll want to join again and again.