Instead of Lovecraft, Beyond Re-Animator looks to Hammer horror films for inspiration. In particular, it’s mining the territory previously explored by Frankenstein Created Woman and, even more so, Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell
I darted over to the IMDB and perused the user reviews for Sleep, of which subject lines like “Quite possibly the worst film I’ve ever seen”, “Avoid at all costs”, and (emphasis mine) “The single worst movie I’ve ever seen” were fairly representative. “Yes,” I thought to myself. “That just might be the one.”
Dagon walks the line between horror and comedy more deftly than did Re-Animator, which tended to give in with youthful exuberance to its more outlandish tendencies
I think the film was undone for most people by the things I liked most about it: misguided and moronic attempts at social conscience, and a bizarre marketing campaign that framed the movie as a Wolf Creek/Hills Have Eyes new style slasher film while doing everything it could to obscure the fact that this was, in fact, a movie about a giant crocodile.
Wouldn’t your space zombies movie be a lot cooler if it was set in one of those 60s style all-white, sleekly designed spaceships? Imagine all the surfaces onto which you could dramatically splash blood. There’s a reason John Woo set the finale of Hard Boiled in a hospital, you know.
Mil Mascaras: Resurrection — which was initially titled Mil Mascaras vs. The Aztec Mummy — doesn’t come to us by way of the normal channels one might expect a Mil Mascaras movie to come through. In fact, it may very well be the only Mexican wrestling film whose writer-producer holds a Ph.D. in robotic engineering from Oxford.
Really, Pinhead? Really? This is how you treat me? We’ve come so far, and I’ve given positive reviews to so many of your movies, and this is how you pay me back?
If you’ve ever watched a video game cut scene and thought, ‘this would be awesome if it went on for 90 minutes,’ then Resident Evil: Degeneration is the movie for you.
Any meeting of Kari Wuhrer and the Hellraiser franchise was going to get my attention. So I sat down for this seventh installment in the the long-running horror series with some degree of anticipation that, at the very least, it would offer me something more than a jackass having hallucinations while sitting in his office cubicle.
That only holds true if you operate under the assumption that the rest of the movie is filled with other weird stuff. Part five did that, giving us a gruesome serial killer movie with surreal Cenobites and oddness. Part six is basically that movie, but instead of a disillusioned cop and creepy Cenobite chicks, it’s a douchebag in an office cubicle.