Hoooooo boy I did not like this bullshit at all.
I might’ve under-valued this one, so you should all see it for yourselves and let me know.
In which Andy feels terribly underqualified to talk about the movie he’s talking about, but he talks about it anyway.
A slasher, but a slasher about *America*.
Y’know, a zombie invasion at this point in the year would just be par for the course, and also maybe preferable to reality.
Insert “in Soviet Russia” joke here.
I was surprised to learn how many movies exist with a variation on this title. It’s…more than one.
Look, don’t get all mad at me, it’s literally true.
This might’ve been a movie about a sandwich, but it’s about a man. But that man also eats that sandwich, too, so win-win.
I was surprised to learn that this is in fact not a movie based on the Everclear song of the same name, but instead another entry in Gemma Arterton’s period movie resume.
To BnB, or not to BnB.
Horror is so elevated that I’m not sure how anyone can lift it any higher without taking it through the ozone layer and sucking all the life out of the genre.
I think Peter Steele said it best when he sang “Everything Dies.”
Appropriately enough, here I am talking about “Palm Springs” again…and again…and again.
Honestly, I don’t think I’d hate it until about day 30.
Not THAT “The Beach House.” This one was made for Shudder, not for Hallmark.
The new wave, but also the old wave, because horror’s told us for years that it’s sometimes better to learn to love the monster.
Judy knocks out all of Punch’s babyteeth while Shirley sits in the corner saying, “never, rarely, sometimes always would I knock a man’s teeth out.”
It’s “Hamilton.” That’s it. That’s everything.
I don’t remember losing my baby teeth, but I remember having my wisdom teeth yanked from my face, and let me tell ya, one thing has nothing to do with the other.