Five Nights at Freddy's

Director: Emma Tammi
Starring: Josh Hutcherson, Elizabeth Lail, Piper Rubio, Matthew Lillard, Mary Stuart Masterson, Kat Conner Sterling, David Lind, Christian Stokes, Joseph Poliquin, Grant Feely, Lucas Grant, Michael P. Sullivan
Running Time: 109 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)     

The most intriguing question to come out of director Emma Tammi's Five Nights at Freddy's is whether it's possible for an adaptation of a wildly popular video game franchise to take itself too seriously. By infusing a 'PG-13' rated, Goosebumps-style horror movie about killer animatronic animals with psychological trauma and abducted children, game creator Scott Cawthon's co-written script actually overdelivers in certain ways. But whether this was the route to take and how well the film manages to pull it all together makes for a more complicated conversation. 

Seemingly attempting to channel certain elements of heavier efforts like The Black Phone while leaning into childlike fears, it doesn't fully pick a side, but still proves enough of an anomaly to deliver a pretty fun time. Its biggest strengths and weaknesses rest entirely on a multi-layered backstory that might frustrate as many as it intrigues, though it's thoroughly watchable, leaving us with an experience a bit more agreeable than its detractors are giving it credit for. 

After assaulting a father he mistakes as a kidnapper, Mike Schmidt (Josh Hutcherson) gets fired as mall security and sent to career counselor Steve Raglan (Matthew Lillard), who offers him a thankless night guard job at the now abandoned Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, a Chuck E. Cheese-like family dining establishment in the 80's and 90's. Following some hesitancy, he eventually accepts the position when social services threaten to give custody of his young sister Abby (Piper Rubio) to their nasty estranged aunt Jane (Mary Stewart Masterson).   

With Mike responsible for keeping trespassers out of the dark, decrepit building, he falls asleep on the job, haunted by nightmares of the abduction of his younger brother Garrett (Lucas Grant) years ago, receiving cryptic clues from five mysterious children who witnessed the kidnapping. Meanwhile, the restaurant's animatronic mascots, Freddy Fazbear, Chica, Foxy and Bonnie seem to have minds of their own, displaying potentially violent tendencies. Clearly knowing more than she lets on about this place's history, local police officer Vanessa (Elizabeth Lail) attempts to show Mike the ropes. But as his visions draw him closer to the truth, Abby forges a bond with her new animal robot friends.

There's actually a fair amount to unpack plot-wise, as this isn't playing strictly in the horror realm, often more interested in deeply delving into its protagonist's emotional baggage. Mike's strained relationship with little sister Abby, her mysterious drawings, his custody battle and whatever Vanessa's hiding bare the hallmarks of an overstuffed screenplay, but it's focused enough to tie all these story threads together, even if reactions to the end result will vary.

While older fans will undoubtedly complain it's not gory or violent enough because of the 'PG-13' rating, the disturbing themes more than make up for it. This isn't scary so much as unnerving, with Mike's dream sequences standing out as the best directed sections, gaining in creepiness as he closes in on the truth about his brother and the run down restaurant. The production design, cinematography and overall retro aesthetic also goes a long way in creating an atmosphere that sells this grimy ex-eatery as a once fun destination decimated by the ravages of time. In a memorable moment, Mike watches a security training video that shows how Freddy's looked like in its prime, accurately recalling many similarly themed chains of the period. 

Since there's always something vaguely unsettling about even the cutest, cuddliest looking animal mascots (especially ones that sing and dance), it doesn't take much to get onboard with them as killing machines. Brought to life by Jim Henson's Creature Shop, their origin story is ridiculously detailed, with the movie holding it cards close to the vest before unloading everything in the third act, making inventive use of its grungy surroundings.  

As the disheveled, traumatized Mike, Hutcherson makes a suitable lead, but it's young Piper Rubio who steals this out from under him as Abby with a wisely precocious and engaging child performance that seems lifted from 80's Spielberg. The Vanessa character is slightly underwritten, but You's Elizabeth Lail definitely makes the best of it, hopefully inching her closer to the breakout role she's been due. In more nefarious turns, Mary Stuart Masterson hams it up as the cartoonishly evil aunt and Matthew Lillard Scream fans won't be disappointed by how much craziness he packs into his relatively brief but unhinged slice of screen time. 

That Blumhouse's latest is splitting critics and audiences down the middle isn't exactly a surprise given its polarizing content and sometimes off kilter tone. This never bores or signals the coming cinematic apocalypse many have claimed, guilty mostly of just not conforming to the tropes of your typical video game adaptation. It's also hard to take your eyes off of, especially when trying to reconcile the story's bizarre intentions. But despite its flaws, or partially because of them, Five Nights at Freddy's is a weirdly entertaining trip that will have the uninitiated scratching their heads while the game's fans clamor for more.                                   

Saw X

Director: Kevin Greutert
Starring: Tobin Bell, Shawnee Smith, Synnøve Macody Lund, Steven Brand, Renata Vaca, Michael Beach, Joshua Okamoto, Octavio Hinojosa, Paulette Hernández, Jorge Briseño
Running Time: 118 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

After 2021's somewhat divisive Saw spin-off, Spiral, Lionsgate seemed to hint they'd be taking the franchise in a new direction that veered even further from previous installments. What that meant was anyone's guess, which is why it came as a shock to hear Saw X would be going back to the beginning, taking place between the events of 2004's original and its first sequel. But it turns out this decision enables director and longtime series editor Kevin Greutert to get around what's been the property's biggest problem. Namely that the dying Jigsaw was killed off too soon, leaving subsequent films to pick up the slack with countless flashbacks, overcomplicated plots, police procedural nonsense and shoehorned apprentices. 

Some sequels had their moments, but every film since the third has worked overtime to cover Jigsaw's premature demise, not envisioning this would extend past an intended trilogy. And since Tobin Bell's bone chilling performance as John Kramer was always the best thing in it, an encore just feels right, especially after being relegated to the sidelines for much of his own story. What results is the strongest entry since the original, treating its premise seriously and digging deeper into the twisted moral relativism that's bubbled under the surface of these movies for nearly two decades. This is the one we've been waiting for, giving Bell the showcase he's long deserved while forcing viewers to confront the grim circumstances that transformed John into Jigsaw. 

Writers Peter Goldfinger and Josh Stolberg fully examine what's only been hinted at, going all in with the idea of Jigsaw as a flawed anti-hero. In presenting a group of deplorables who find themselves tested for incredibly valid reasons, the stakes rise, creating conversations around not only Kramer's intentions, but his heinous methods. Gory traps and over-the-top brutality remain, only this time accompanied by a slow, simmering build, making it feel more like a psychological character study than the "torture porn" it's frequently been labeled as. With a singular focus, its gripping, stripped down plot actually makes sense, avoiding the missteps of its many sequels.

Suffering from advanced incurable brain cancer, John Kramer (Bell) is told by his physician he only has a few months to live. After encountering Henry (Michael Beach), a member of his cancer support group who suddenly looks much healthier, John obtains from him the contact info for Dr. Pederson, whose experimental treatment Henry claims cured him. After a phone conversation with the doctor's daughter, Cecilia (Synnøve Macody Lund), John books a flight to Mexico City for surgery.

Upon his arrival at the mysterious clinic, John's greeted by Cecilia and her medical team consisting of Mateo (Octavio Hinojosa), Valentina (Paulette Hernández) and a surgeon known as "Dr. Cortez." He also meets two patients named Gabriela (Renata Vaca) and Parker Sears (Steven Brand), both of whom were successfully treated there. But after awaking from surgery and told he's cancer free, a betrayed, heartbroken John discovers it was all a scam and enlists trusted apprentice Amanda Young (Shawnee Smith) to help him round up the conspirators. What follows is Jigsaw's deadliest, most personal game yet.   

In a series known for its frenetic editing and grimy, yellowish tint, this represents a departure, and not just in setting. Some recognizable trademarks are still present, but by Saw standards it's downright restrained, at least for the first thirty minutes. John attending a support group, wrestling with the devastating news and even cordially interacting with service workers ends up being a strange but welcome sight considering Bell was never given these notes to hit before, allowing viewers to see the character as an actual human being for a change. 

After spending years speculating whether the diagnosis or some other unknown event in his past led to Jigsaw's creation, this heavily implies the former, with Bell conveying subtle glimpses of hope and optimism immediately following the "procedure." His performance brilliantly hints at John possibly not going down this dark path had he been cured, only to see that shattered by these scammers, who emotionally break him to pieces. And that Bell plays a much younger version of Jigsaw isn't the continuity issue you'd think, easily explained away by the character's terminal condition. 

The script covers its bases, making sure John never looks like a fool for believing this treatment is on the level. These criminals know their desperate, vulnerable targets are willing to believe anything if it means buying themselves and their families one more day. John's no exception, helping draw the clearest line yet separating the former civil engineer from Jigsaw, who's now front and center, letting his subjects  know exactly what they'll be doing and why. Of course, we still get Billy the Puppet, pig masks and tape recorders, though the presence of these staples are sparser than usual, making it mean all the more when he employs them. And despite some wildly unforeseen circumstances, the self-professed "life coach" has never been this obsessed with enforcing his stringent rules

His most valuable weapon is Amanda, who's still in the formative stages of her training, but maybe having some doubts as their teacher/student dynamic compellingly plays out. Shawnee Smith again impresses opposite Bell, reminding us how Amanda was the only apprentice who mattered, their relationship serving as more than just a plot contrivance. The rest of the performances are unusually strong, particularly that of Norwegian actress Synnøve Macody Lund, whose Cecilia tests Jigsaw like no other victim has. Manipulative and detestable to the core, her reaction to this predicament will reveal her as more dismissive of human life than he is, even as the screenplay doesn't hesitate exposing the hypocrisies of both.  

This does eventually settle into a rhythm more typical of the series, but anyone who made it this far into won't mind, especially since it's so refreshingly raw, with hardly a cop or detective in sight, eliminating what's become an increasingly annoying plot crutch. The traps remain graphic as ever, but benefit from a better story, a simplicity to the gruesome challenges and tenser, tighter time frames for the subjects to escape, or not.    

In the rare horror franchise that keeps its continuity straight, Saw X is its standalone, requiring no intricate knowledge of the series to fully appreciate. If its ending visually recalls the original's iconic final moments, the closing twist will have many second guessing their perceptions of Bell's antagonist in ways that seemed impossible nine sequels in. Subverting all expectations, this feels like the defining chapter, raising the bar of what a Saw film can do when freed from the creative shackles holding it back.                       

Terrifier 2

Director: Damien Leone
Starring: Lauren LaVera, Elliott Fullam, David Howard Thornton, Amelie McLain, Sarah Voigt, Kailey Hyman, Casey Hartnett, Charlie McElveen, Johnnath Davis, Amy Russ, Leah Voysey, Chris Jericho, Samantha Scaffidi
Running Time: 138 min. 
Rating: NR

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

The most impressive aspect of 2016's Terrifier was how much writer/director Damien Leone managed to accomplish with so little. While not without its flaws, you could see how horror fans were drawn in, as he utilized its low budget and practical effects to replicate splatter soaked 70's and 80's slashers, to mixed results. The framework was there, leaving viewers wondering what he could do on a larger scale, with crisper editing and better writing and performances. This is the result. 

If the first film provided a blueprint, Terrifier 2 is the main course, a leap forward in every way, but also a reminder of how its villain gained a fervent enough cult to warrant this follow-up. Since first appearing in Leone's 2013 anthology release All Hallow's Eve, Art the Clown's grotesque and instantly iconic appearance has drawn justifiable comparisons to the Michaels, Jasons and Freddys of the horror realm. And much of it's due to David Howard Thornton's expressively silent performance as the killer mime, an ingenious amalgamation of sadistic cruelty and childlike showmanship, seemingly still waiting on the feature worthy of him. 

Lingering story threads, some scattershot acting and an overindulgent run time notwithstanding, this sequel's flaws are offset by more cohesive characterization, along with one of the stronger "Final Girl" portrayals in recent memory. And yes it's every bit as graphic as the hype suggests, lending additional credence to those reports of fainting and vomiting theatergoers. The story occasionally loses its way, but never holds back, taking us on a sickening, wildly unpredictable ride sure to make this an annual viewing staple.

A year after the Miles County Massacre, teenager Sienna Shaw (Lauren LaVera) is painting the wings on her angel-warrior Halloween costume originally designed by her late father and getting ready to party with friends Brooke (Kailey Hyman) and Allie (Casey Hartnett). Socially withdrawn younger brother Jonathan (Elliott Fullam) has other ideas, wanting to go against mother Barbara's (Sarah Voigt) wishes and dress up as Art the Clown (Thornton) after seeing illustrations of the serial murderer and his victims in their father's sketchbook. 

After Sienna has a terrifyingly realistic dream foretelling Art's return, she awakens to her room engulfed in flames and starts taking Jonathan's obsession seriously. Having brutally killed the coroner after being supernaturally resurrected, the clown's on the loose again, this time joined by a creepy looking, similarly dressed Little Pale Girl (Amelie McLain). Now that Art's back with more torture, mutilation and murder in mind, it turns out Sienna just might be the only person capable of stopping him. 

Sienna's musical nightmare is the film's finest sequence, from the insanely catchy "Clown Cafe" theme song to the Mister Rogers meets Captain Kangaroo retro aesthetic, the children's TV show doubles as her own personal hell. Incomparably shot and staged by Leone, it sends viewers down a demented rabbit hole that's both recognizably nostalgic and downright disturbing. Distilling the essence of Art the Clown's persona into public access entertainment, the costuming and production design bely a happy benevolence he'll soon shatter, transforming the set into a battleground of unimaginable atrocity and carnage. 

That Leone doesn't again reach these creative heights for the next two hours isn't an indictment on the movie's quality so much as a realization that Sienna's vision introduces more questions than the script bothers to answer. Lifting elements from A Nightmare on Elm Street and even a couple of Halloween and Friday The 13th installments, it sort of employs telekinesis as a hook, while offering up even fewer explanations than those entries did. 

How the crux of the plot relates to Sienna and Jonathan's deceased dad's prophetic sketches, Art's new junior assistant and the power of that gifted sword remain a mystery. While these holes are big enough to drive a truck through, explaining them might be worse, potentially burying the the film's narrative in a ditch too deep to crawl out of. These questions only grow before being abandoned in favor of Art's rampage, which provides ample distraction and disgust.

If the first Terrifier could be mistaken for a snuff film with its continuous stream of random kills, this places the villain in a more traditional arc by having him wreck havoc in a small town, sharply focusing on Sienna and Jonathan as his specific targets. Their exact connection to him is murky, but the anticipation persists since no guardrails are put on Art's brutality or how far he's willing to go. Thornton's sadistically playful turn makes that clear, as we wince, cringe and cover our eyes at just how long these victims are kept alive to suffer at his hands. That's especially true in the now infamous "bedroom scene," which somehow manages to be even more outrageous than the hype suggested, raising the bar for onscreen depravity. 

Thornton's mannerisms combined with the costuming and makeup job is enough to convert anyone not already afraid of clowns while a fantastic LaVera slays as Art's armored, angel-winged conqueror, Sienna. As she overcomes personal demons and anxieties to protect her brother and hysterically judgmental mom, we also get the return Samantha Scaffidi's disfigured Victoria, who proves it's not such a blessing to survive an encounter with Art. 

The final act is full of the supernaturally inexplicable but still very much works, as does a mid-credits scene that ensures we're far from the end and answers could still come. Even at a two and a half hours, the thought of more chapters doesn't feel superfluous, assuming Leone has a grander plan. If so, it's still possible we haven't seen the best Terrifier film, making this burgeoning franchise the exception in a genre rarely known for churning out superior sequels.                                                              

Skinamarink

Director: Kyle Edward Ball
Starring: Lucas Paul, Dali Rose Tetreault, Ross Paul, Jaime Hill
Running Time: 100 min.
Rating: NR 

★★ (out of ★★★★)

An experimental endurance test, writer/director Kyle Edward Ball's polarizing Skinamarink attempts to transport viewers back to that time in our childhoods when nothing felt scarier than a dark empty house in the middle of the night. It's a conceit that Ball captures exceptionally well in doses, recognizing how any strange noise or shadow can become a nightmarish threat. Its cast of four are sparsely seen or heard as barely distinguishable hallways, light fixtures, rooms and ceilings convey an atmospheric sense of impending doom. But while there's a method to the madness, it's an undeniable slog, rewarding only those completely willing to let go and settle in for a lengthy, frustrating journey.

Clocking in at a surprisingly grueling 100 minutes, early hints suggest this might be a found footage exercise in the vein of The Blair Witch Project or Paranormal Activity. That is until Canadian filmmaker Ball uses his debut feature to really push the envelope past more traditional genre conventions. There's value in how it evokes all the intended sensations, even if you're left feeling congratulations are in order for reaching the end, having survived a monotony sure to test the patience of even the most dedicated cinephiles.

It's 1995 when four-year-old Kevin (Lucas Paul) injures himself during what his slightly older sister Kaylee (Dali Rose Tetreault) refers to as another sleepwalking episode. After Kevin's taken to the hospital and brought back home, he and his sister awake in the middle of the night to discover their father (Ross Paul) and mother (Jaime Hill) are gone, as windows, doors and other objects within the house begin to vanish. 

After relocating to the living room to watch cartoons, the children fall asleep before being awakened again by loud, strange noises. What they find wandering in the dark is terrifying and inexplicable, with all signs pointing to the presence of an increasingly malicious, otherworldly force. The line separating imagination and reality fades in the face of a horror slowly enveloping these siblings and the foreboding sense that the worst is yet to come.

This takes place in the '90s, but it's hardly relevant since events are set in sort of a timeless vacuum that can't be tied to a particular period, with the cavernous house acting as its own main character. Having edited this himself, Ball forces us to see and experience everything as the two children do. shooting in a grainy, VHS style that skillfully utilizes lighting, cinematography and sound design to enhance an already creepy atmosphere. And this commitment to realistically replicating the same sense of isolation and confinement plaguing these kids sometimes makes it impossible to tell what's going on, which was likely the point.

Sparse, static scenes linger longer than most can reasonably tolerate, so while it succeeds in creating an immersive environment, there are enormous stretches where nothing happens, or at least doesn't appear to. Ball's intentions are straightforward, but is it ever a tough watch, clearly descending from that early lockdown era when low-budget, single location thrillers were all the rage. To an extent they still are, though none have gone this far in stripping down its thematic implications, and probably for good reason. 

The film's title is lifted from the classic children's song, which isn't directly referenced, played or sung at any stage during the proceedings. And there isn't much dialogue at all, beyond the kids conversing and background noise from the TV and house. While the pacing never picks up, the strange occurrences do in a final act that gives us a clearer idea of what's been happening for a 572 day span you'd swear unfolded in real time. Memorable imagery, like the talking Fisher Price telephone and a mysterious Lynchian figure provide hints as to who or what could be behind this.

If Skinamarink were tighter, there's a decent chance it could have been more digestible, though possibly at the expense of Ball's creative vision. So without that middle ground, we're left with something that can only be watched alone in the dark at 3 am, provided you can make it. Ambitiously daring, this almost taunts viewers into revisiting the film with a different mindset to confirm their initial reaction. Of course the problem is having to sit through it again, possibly ensuring that the debate this provokes will outlast whatever does or doesn't appear on screen.                                 

Totally Killer

Director: Nahnatchka Khan
Starring: Kiernan Shipka, Olivia Holt, Julie Bowen, Randall Park, Charlie Gillespie, Lochlyn Munro, Troy Leigh-Anne Johnson, Kimberly Huie, Liana Liberato, Kelcey Mawema, Stephi Chin-Salvo, Anna Diaz, Ella Choi, Patti Kim, Jeremy Monn-Djasgnar, Tommy Europe, Nathaniel Appiah, Conrad Coates, Nicholas Lloyd, Jonathan Potts
Running Time: 106 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

There's a scene in Blumhouse's time travel slasher comedy Totally Killer where the protagonist shows a character her iPhone in 1987 and we see the reaction. She's perplexed for a second before studying the strange device and realizing that, yes, she'll be able to work with that. It's brief, but indicative of all the little things the movie gets right with a premise you can actually describe as Back to the Future meets Scream without the risk of false advertising. This exchange is one of many you didn't know you needed, with director Nahnatchka Khan delivering a throwback homage that delightfully shows little hesitation acknowledging its influences. And in extracting all the right lessons from some familiar titles, it actually fares better as sci-fi than teen horror, ultimately excelling at both by making inspired choices.

Hilariously skewering the past by going to unexpectedly sharp places with the humor, it's loads of fun, balancing a variety of memorable characters over two timelines. With strong visual cues and an undistracting period specific soundtrack, we're willing to follow the story wherever it goes, inviting obvious comparisons to the Happy Death Day franchise. Others might also be reminded of 2015's The Final Girls, where the heroine is sucked into a retro slasher to reunite with her deceased mom. But while this is similarly stacked with meta references, all roads still lead back to Zemeckis' '85 classic, though in ways you'd wouldn't necessarily assume.

Thirty-five years ago, Jamie's (Kiernan Shipka) mother Pam's (Julie Bowen) three friends Tiffany (Liana Liberato), Marisa (Stephi Chin-Salvo) and Heather (Anna Diaz) were brutally murdered on Halloween by the masked Sweet Sixteen Killer, who was never apprehended and has now returned to finish the job. Tragedy strikes again in 2023 when Pam becomes the eventual fourth victim and daughter Jamie is accidentally sent into the past via her best friend Amelia's (Kelcey Mawema) time machine, determined to stop the killings before they start. 

Stuck in 1987 and aided by the teen versions of her mom (Olivia Holt) and Amelia's science obsessed mother Lauren (Troy Leigh-Anne Johnson), Jamie enters a far different world than she's used to while encountering a variety of suspects she's quite familiar with. Committed to uncovering the masked murderer before being trapped in the past, she scrambles to prevent her mom's deadly fate, with any rash move potentially causing a ripple effect that alters everyone's lives. 

Writers David Matalon, Sasha Perl-Raver and Jen D'Angelo do an excellent job establishing this small town of Vernon and the mythology surrounding these infamous killings, fleshing out all the current characters' lingering relationships to an event a generation prior. And that's just in the first 25 minutes. Woodsboro comparisons are apt, but this is actually more Hill Valley in terms of familiarizing viewers with people we'll see again in the past when Jamie encounters her younger parents and their contemporaries.

Considering the amount of characters involved and how they'll eventually be incorporated into the past timeline, it's impressive how deftly the script pulls that off, communicating a relatably thematic point about townies who peaked in high school but never moved on. It's also conveyed visually by Khan,  depicting a 2023 Vernon that's far from its vibrant, bustling, neon-infused heyday of yesteryear.

Taking a cue from the Halloween sequels, Jamie's justifiably overprotective mom may have been preparing for the killer's return for over three decades, but that isn't enough, no matter how good a fight she puts up. And while the slasher sequences are par for the course, the killer's screen time is kept sparse enough to really make those appearances count. Facially resembling a mashup between Max Headroom and Beavis from Beavis and Butt-head, the murderer has one of those undeniably iconic movie masks that's not only reflective of the period, but one you'd believe remained in the public's consciousness for decades following the original slaughter. 

Even the time traveling sequence itself succeeds, organically leading into the culture shock Jamie experiences in 1987. It's surprising what's focused on, as the jokes and sight gags make it clear she's not viewing the past through rose-colored nostalgia glasses, but an eye-rolling sense of hopeless resignation and pity. With her exasperated facial expressions and detached, deadpan demeanor, the versatile Shipka is perfect in this role, registering Jamie's disbelief at all the smoking, how girls her age are treated, and the ease with which she's able to just walk into school unchecked and enroll. 

Much of that humor continues throughout, with Jamie even using Marty McFly as her reference point for the town's clueless, incompetent sheriff (Randall Park). With Lauren essentially functioning as the story's Doc Brown, their attempts to stop the crimes carry a handful of unintended consequences that could jeopardize the future. In a clever touch, the film also frequently cuts back to 2023, emphasizing that Jamie's gone missing with a crazed killer on the loose. Aside from some small missteps like the overabundance of sex jokes and a true crime podcast trope, the screenplay's a lot better than it's gotten credit for.

Jamie coming to equally disappointing and uplifting realizations about her parents further solidifies how every character is a product of their time, especially Pam and her Molly Ringwald dressalike mean girl squad,"The Mollys." Just as Jamie needs to process  her mom wasn't who she thought, Pam will learn to begrudgingly respect the new badass exchange student from "Canada." And as good as Shipka is, Olivia Holt proves essential in completing one of the better recent up-and-coming actress pairings. Also helping is that Holt's an uncanny physical match for the younger version of a superbly cast Julie Bowen.

Horror whodunnits are difficult since casual and hardcore viewers tend to think they know all the plays and are more than happy to tell you as much. Taking that into account, this reveal is superior to many in logically checking certain boxes to serve the larger story. It'll all culminate in a tension-filled, uniquely set showdown that injects some gravitational excitement into an already perilous situation. 

Totally Killer reminds us how Back to the Future earned a 'PG' rating upon its release despite containing many scenes that wouldn't meet today's more stringent MPAA standards, or apparently those of a Gen Z teen who travels back to the era. But by tackling the same weird cultural displacement that movie's character did in the 50's, this just might be the closet we'll get to another sequel, minus all the baggage such an attempt would carry.

Talk to Me

Directors: Danny Philippou and Michael Philippou  
Starring: Sophie Wilde, Alexandra Jensen, Joe Bird, Otis Dhanji, Miranda Otto, Zoe Terakes, Chris Alosio, Marcus Johnson, Alexandria Steffensen, Ari McCarthy, Sunny Johnson
Running Time: 95 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)    

A24's supernatural horror thriller Talk to Me puts a fresh spin on a sub-genre that's had startlingly few innovations over the years. Demonic or spiritual possession is always difficult terrain to navigate, but in their debut feature, Australian sibling filmmaking duo Danny and Michael Philippou sidestep typical tropes to craft a suspenseful, character driven commentary on grief and excess. By reframing an idea employed by countless outings since The Exorcist, this manages to shine a new light on familiar developments by presenting its story in an entirely different context.

While it's probably a stretch to call the film scary by traditional standards, it still contains more exciting moments than most, largely adhering to its own unique rules and featuring characters that don't insult viewers' intelligence. Carried by two gripping performances that take unexpected detours by the midway point, many will sense what's coming, but that hardly diminishes just how viscerally it all plays out. 

17 year-old Mia (Sophie Wilde) is still grieving the overdose death of her mother Rhea (Alexandria Steffensen), having turned to best friend Jade (Alexandra Jensen) and Jade's younger brother Riley (Joe Bird) for support as her relationship with father Max (Marcus Johnson) crumbles. When Mia, Jade and Riley sneak out to a party being thrown by classmates Hayley (Zoe Terakes) and Joss (Chris Alosio), things take a strange turn with the reveal of a severed, embalmed hand that enables them to talk to the dead, granting permission for the spirit to possess them. Unfortunately, the catch is that this supernatural connection has to be broken within ninety seconds or they can be permanently inhabited by the spirit.

While everyone takes turns basking in the high, they have experiences that range from embarrassingly inappropriate to downright unsettling. Some participants like Jade's boyfriend Daniel (Otis Dhanji) endure especially rough outings, but they all want more, capturing the experiences on their phones for the world to see. That is until something truly terrifying happens to one of them, putting Mia in a position where she must carry the burden of this catastrophe and come face-to-face with her own trauma.

That these possessions fuel a drug-like addiction and an ensuing social media craze is the film's biggest hook, grounding the supernatural elements in real world tragedy and opening the floodgates for where the narrative can go. After initially establishing the depths of Mia's personal pain over the loss of her mother, we're treated to a montage that economically conveys all the euphoria and danger accompanying this creepy appendage. Once the stage is set and characters defined, it isn't long before the Philippous brothers pull the trigger with a violent sequence that alters how we view Mia from then on, establishing her as a fairly complicated and conflicted protagonist.

Sophie Wilde's job is deceptively hard since Mia's personal situation elicits sympathy and she's not solely responsible for the violent chaos about to engulf them. But even with more than enough blame to go around, it's her recklessly selfish decision that gets the ball rolling, which seems plausible given her fragile state. After a while, it's clear Mia's losing all grip on reality, clinging to this hand for answers she's not getting about her mom and a closure that can't possibly come. 

Joe Bird's portrayal of Riley is equally unnerving as the character becomes a physical manifestation of their worst case scenario when he's trapped in an unwinnable battle against forces beyond his or anyone else's control. He's only guilty of being at the wrong place at the wrong time, understandably a little too eager to fit in. Everyone fails him, especially Mia, whose friendship with Daniel only further confounds Jade, threatening the girls' friendship and lives.

The makeup team bolsters the disturbing transformations these characters undergo, complete with inexplicable facial contusions and blackened pupils. And there's a welcome use of practical effects in depicting the spirits, grounding some of the more over-the-top sequences in a recognizable reality that's filtered through the protagonist's inconsolable state. The two worlds eventually become indistinguishable as a party gimmick devolves into existential chaos, capped off with a fitting finale that twists the knife one last time, bringing everything full circle.