There are movie trilogies, and then there are three-film stretches that permanently fuck with the DNA of cinema. Sergio Leone’s Dollars Trilogy belongs firmly in the latter camp. Watching A Fistful of Dollars, For a Few Dollars ...

Thirty years later and the Martians are back, baby. ACK! ACK! ACK! Watching Mars Attacks! again in 2026—now that Warner Bros. has finally dragged Tim Burton's beautifully deranged bastard onto 4K—I'm  ...

There comes a point in every mad scientist's career when somebody really needs to grab him by the shoulders and say, "Maybe don't touch the glowing meteorite." Unfortunately for Dr. Janos Rukh, nobody gets ...

There are hotels where you worry about bedbugs. There are hotels where you worry about whether somebody wiped down the remote. And then there is the godforsaken Irish inn in Damian McCarthy’s Hokum, where the ...

There is something almost aggressively comforting about returning to Meatballs in 2026. Maybe it’s because summer camp movies basically don’t exist anymore. Maybe it’s because Bill Murray had not yet become ...

There’s something wonderfully dangerous about Australian horror when it stops giving a shit about good taste. Wake in Fright. Razorback. Patrick. Roadgames. Wolf Creek. The best Ozploitation has always felt  ...

Let's get the disappointment out of the way first: Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi are in the same damn movie and never share a scene. That's almost criminal. Universal had two of horror's greatest icons sitting ...

There was a stretch of time when Pirates of the Caribbean was absolutely fucking unavoidable. Jack Sparrow was everywhere. Halloween costumes. Theme parks. Happy Meals. Posters. Bad impressions at parties ...