The only thing worse than not knowing what those secretive Templars were getting up to in their fortresses is finding out they’re planning a big ol’ dinner party.

Guess what the main course is?  One hint: it’s not pasta.

Oz finally watches a horror classic for the first time while Furor wonders what the hell took him so long.

A sequel to one of the few good werewolf movies.  Usually this means that there’s nothing but pain in store, but not always.  Silver bullet or silver lining?  Guess you’ll just have to read the review.

It’s been ten years since the last batch of murders in Woodsboro, and Sidney Prescott is back in town to sign copies of her new book on overcoming victimhood. Well, fuck that Reader’s Digest feel-good psycho-babble, because there’s a new slasher in town. Ghostface has a sweet mask that never comes off in a fight, and a totally original new m.o.—killing teenage girls.

It turns out there is a name for this movie, after all: it’s “Derivative.”

Possibly the most facist movie ever made.  If you or anyone you know has a face, this movie hates you and wants you to know it.

Should you still watch it?  Hell yeah.

Squeak I tell you!  Squeak!!

“Blood Angels.”  Now that’s a compelling title.  It has both blood and angels in it.  What could go wrong?

Try everything.

I review Phantasm without once mentioning the Lady in Lavender, because the idea of the girl you just fucked turning into Angus Scrimm is fucking gross.

Oz and Furor declare war on a Thing That Should Not Be.