Grindhouse brutality, biker-gang absurdity, and a little Tarantino attitude collide in this bloody, darkly funny horror short. MILD SPOILERS AHEAD: This review discusses plot details and select scenes from GRIM. You can watch the complete short film at the bottom of this article. By Seth Metoyer | More Horror Some movies have a particular kind of personality that immediately reminds me why I love independent horror. They're filthy, outrageous, occasionally ridiculous, and populated by characters who seem like they'd be perfectly comfortable starting a bar fight over absolutely nothing. Sean Haitz's GRIM is one of those films, and I had a pretty damn good time with it. Starring Brett Wagner, whose credits include Sons of Anarchy, The Crazies, and an appearance as Leatherface in the 2003 remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, GRIM is a gritty, violent, and surprisingly funny outlaw horror short with a healthy appreciation for old-school exploitation cinema. It has the kind of grimy personality that immediately brought several films to mind, ranging from Rob Zombie's The Devil's Rejects to Quentin Tarantino's Death Proof. Strangely enough, I also caught myself thinking about the biker gang antics from Clint Eastwood's Every Which Way But Loose. Somehow, all those influences make sense when you're watching this thing. Stick with me here. The film opens with a particularly gruesome crime scene and a couple of investigators trying to make sense of the carnage. There's already a darkly comic streak running through the dialogue, with one officer confidently offering observations that seem almost hilariously obvious. It's an entertaining introduction to the film's twisted sense of humor, and we soon discover the kind of trouble that led to the bloody aftermath. A True American Outlaw Hero At the center of the chaos is Grim, played with considerable attitude by Wagner. Grim is a larger-than-life character who appears to live according to his own rather questionable set of rules. After refusing to take a dive in a fight, he finds himself in trouble with some decidedly unpleasant people who expected to make money from the arrangement. Their solution involves kidnapping his girlfriend Bella (Clair Brauer) and attempting to use her as leverage. Grim's initial reaction to the kidnapping is hilariously indifferent, suggesting his relationship with Bella might be just as dysfunctional as everything else in his life. Naturally, things get considerably more violent as he tracks down the people responsible. Wagner is terrific in the role. He has the kind of physical presence that makes Grim immediately believable as somebody capable of causing tremendous damage, and his comedic timing gives the character an entertaining edge. I particularly enjoyed the way he casually dismisses threats and insults people who clearly picked the wrong guy to mess with. This is where some of those cinematic comparisons started forming in my head. There's a lot of Rob Zombie's affection for degenerates and colorful lowlifes here, particularly the atmosphere of The Devil's Rejects. The dialogue and roughneck attitude also occasionally reminded me of Tarantino's Death Proof, especially the filmmaker's fondness for bringing larger-than-life personalities together in a world of vintage Americana, bad behavior, and sudden violence. Then there's that unexpected Every Which Way But Loose connection. Remember the Black Widows biker gang? Those guys always seemed to exist somewhere between legitimate menace and complete buffoonery. There's a similar energy running through the criminals in GRIM, where the intimidation and stupidity occasionally become inseparable. Grim himself might be one of the more entertaining examples of a true American white-trash, trailer-park antihero I've seen recently. I mean that affectionately. He's vulgar, violent, politically incorrect, and remarkably comfortable with who he is. There's something wonderfully refreshing about a character who seems to have abandoned any interest in appearing respectable. Bruise Tube, Weird Al and Some Seriously Nasty Gore One of the things I appreciated most about GRIM was how naturally the comedy fits into the violence. Haitz clearly enjoys the absurdity of these characters, and the performances lean into that sensibility. The "Bruise Tube" bit gave me a laugh, and there's a particularly funny exchange involving an injured criminal complaining about his arm while Grim continues making his situation considerably worse. A casual "My arm hurts" delivery cracked me up, especially considering the circumstances. There's also a Weird Al joke that arrives during another tense encounter, and it works precisely because the characters seem completely incapable of taking their own dangerous circumstances seriously. The humor gets pretty juvenile at times, which fits the material perfectly. These characters exist in a world where insults, threats, ridiculous conversations, and spectacular violence can all unfold within a few seconds of each other. And speaking of violence, the practical effects are brutal. There's some genuinely nasty gore here, particularly during the film's more aggressive confrontations. I appreciate filmmakers who understand the visceral appeal of practical effects, and GRIM delivers the kind of gruesome material that gives exploitation horror its wonderfully disgusting reputation. Andrea Davoren handled the special effects, with effects props by Cellar Creations and assistance from Isabella Santin. Brian Klewin contributed visual effects. For such a compact production, the team delivers some impressively memorable carnage. The acting across the board also deserves credit. Even the supporting characters with limited screen time bring something distinctive to the proceedings. The whole ensemble understands the strange little universe Haitz has created, and that consistency helps sell some of the more outrageous material. Two Days in the Desert and Plenty of Grindhouse Attitude What makes the finished product especially impressive is the production schedule. According to Haitz, the entire short came together during just two days of filming in Amboy and Morongo Valley, California. The director shared some additional background with More Horror: "GRIM is a raunchy, down-and-dirty film made on a shoestring budget. Brett Wagner—whose credits include Sons of Anarchy, The Crazies and playing Leatherface in the Kemper kill in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003)—is a force of nature. Our small crew shot it in just two days in Amboy and Morongo Valley. I directed, shot, colored and edited, with Michael Trebilcock's score bringing that '70s and '80s vibe inspired by 48 Hrs. and Lethal Weapon. It's one of four connected shorts centered around Kharver, played by Bill Moseley, with the final installment coming soon." Those influences explain a lot about the film's personality. The action-comedy sensibility of 48 Hrs. and Lethal Weapon certainly comes through, particularly in the way the characters trade insults and absurd observations while surrounded by increasingly dangerous situations. I also appreciate how Haitz incorporates the desert environment into the film. There's something about those rugged Southern California landscapes that naturally lends itself to stories about outsiders, criminals, and people who seem to operate several miles outside the boundaries of civilized society. The soundtrack adds another layer to that atmosphere. The opening rock track, "Livin With Myself" by Richard Haitz, immediately establishes the film's attitude. Michael Trebilcock's score reinforces the retro action-movie sensibility, while the closing country-rock song, "Blown in the Wind" by Rockin' Rick Haitz, provides a fitting musical send-off. I genuinely dug both the opening and closing tunes. They give the film a distinctive identity and complement the outlaw atmosphere running throughout. Who the Hell Is Kharver? One of the more intriguing details arrives near the end of the film, when Grim makes a reference to somebody named Kharver. After the violence settles down, Grim remarks, "If Kharver could see me now," suggesting there's some existing history between the two characters. Shortly afterward, he receives a phone call from Kharver and agrees to help him, explaining that he still owes the man his life. Bella's reaction makes the exchange even more interesting. She clearly knows who Kharver is, finds him unsettling, and seems less than thrilled about Grim getting involved with him again. It turns out that Kharver is part of a larger interconnected horror universe that Haitz has been developing. The character, portrayed by horror veteran Bill Moseley, originally appeared in Haitz's Big Top Evil and connects several of the filmmaker's subsequent projects. Although Moseley doesn't appear onscreen in GRIM, the conversation near the end establishes Grim's relationship with Kharver and hints at unfinished business between them. Haitz confirms that GRIM is one of four connected short films, with the final installment on the way. I actually like this approach. The story works as its own self-contained piece of outlaw horror, while the brief reference to Kharver suggests a larger world beyond what we're watching. Grim clearly has some history with the character, and the implication that Kharver once saved his life raises a few interesting questions. Considering Moseley's history with films like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, House of 1000 Corpses, and The Devil's Rejects, I'm particularly interested in seeing how these characters eventually come together. Final Thoughts: Long Live Grim GRIM is a bloody, funny, wonderfully trashy slice of independent horror that embraces its exploitation roots. Brett Wagner carries the film with an imposing performance and some great comedic moments, while Sean Haitz keeps the action moving with an energetic combination of violence, dark humor, and outrageous characters. The film has a personality all its own, shaped by those familiar elements of outlaw cinema that I enjoy so much. It's easy to see the appreciation for Rob Zombie's grimy Americana, Tarantino's affection for colorful lowlifes, and the irreverent attitude of older action comedies. Haitz filters those sensibilities through his own particular brand of grindhouse horror. What I enjoyed most was the unapologetic commitment to the material. The filmmakers clearly know exactly what kind of movie they're making, and everybody involved seems to be having a blast. There's some terrific practical gore, genuinely funny dialogue, and just enough backstory to make me curious about where Grim and Kharver's relationship is heading next. The final scenes also deliver some memorable domestic dysfunction, with Grim and Bella arguing in a manner that makes their relationship seem every bit as dangerous as the criminals they've just encountered. There's even a hilarious little exchange in which Grim makes an important distinction between being a murderer, a scumbag, and something considerably less flattering. I laughed. If you enjoy your horror with a healthy dose of sleaze, practical violence, and trailer-park attitude, GRIM is worth checking out. I'm especially curious to see how Haitz brings these interconnected stories together in the upcoming installment. And after witnessing some of the carnage in this one, I think Grim offers a valuable lesson about the dangers of overindulgence. Too much Taco Tuesday isn't good for ya. GRIM (2026) Written and directed by Sean Haitz Starring Brett Wagner, Clair Brauer, Alex Kravitz, David Vega, Aaron Prager, and Thomas Sutherland, with additional performances by Marco Tazioli, Robert Dunne, Honey Davenport, Emiliano Valenzuela, Hayden Roach, and Liam Carroll. Produced by Happy Fright Films LLC. Cinematography and editing by Sean Haitz. Original score by Michael Trebilcock. Special effects by Andrea Davoren, with effects props by Cellar Creations. Content Advisory: Intended for mature audiences. Contains graphic violence, gore, strong language, sexual humor, and adult themes. Watch GRIM (2026) | Full Horror Short Film Experience Sean Haitz's gritty outlaw horror short starring Brett Wagner. Contains graphic violence, strong language, and mature content.

By Damian Hex | More Horror I've always envied October babies: Autumn arrives, Halloween festivities kick off, and monsters emerge from the shadows. Naturally, I went to New York Comic Con to celebrate its 20th anniversary. This year's con ran from October 7th to 10th at the Javits Center and embraced the "Coney Island" theme, featuring numerous side shows for fans to enjoy. NYCC has been a fantastic outlet for horror, and this weird kid loves it. This year, Shudder introduced its first booth, giving horror fans a chance to grab cool merch, exclusive pins, and take photos with icons like the Crypt Keeper, Boulet Brothers, Johnny from In a Violent Nature, and the puppets from the "Dance, Dance, Dance, Dance" chapter in V/H/S/Mixtape. You damn right I snapped as many photos as I could! NBCUniversal showcased its Universal Horror attraction. Guests posed in front of backdrops from Obsession, Fortnite/Fortnitemares, and other horror-themed titles. The star attraction, HamiKuma, one of Halloween Horror Nights' mascots, stole the show. Zombie teddy bears are in this season. Even though NYCC lasts four days, I had to plan my stops wisely because the hours flew by. One highlight was the Whalefall panel presented by 20th Century Studios and Imagine Entertainment, featuring director Brian Duffield, author Daniel Kraus, and actors Austin Abrams and Josh Brolin. They discussed the book-to-film adaptation and shared their feelings about their roles, giving fans a sneak peek at footage that will unsettle those with claustrophobia. What can one expect when the story is about being stuck inside a whale? NYCC wouldn’t be complete without queer horror representation. Shudder/AMC+ invited drag and TV icons, the Boulet Brothers (Dracmorda Boulet and Swanthula Boulet), to host the panel THE BOULET BROTHERS’ DRAGULA: 10 YEARS OF TERROR. These horror icons look just as flawless in person as they do on-screen. For those unfamiliar, Dragula is a horror-themed drag competition that has transformed into a monster franchise. During the panel, the Boulets discussed the show's evolution and unveiled an exclusive, never-before-seen trailer for Season 7 of Dragula. It’s always cool when friends are part of the con programming. Horror manga artist and bestie, Gigi Murakami, moderated Junji Ito: Strange — “Face Thief.” Junji Ito (a famous Japanese horror manga artist) even delivered a special video message to kick things off for NYCC attendees, followed by an exclusive screening of “Face Thief.” The panel wrapped up with a Q&A featuring director Yuta Shimotsu. The discussion focused on Yuta's adaptation of the horror manga into the live-action horror anthology series titled "Strange: Junji Ito's Tales for Sleepless Nights," as well as his previous works. Watching a friend interact with such a gifted director made me proud. I was surprised my wallet didn’t take a huge hit; so many tempting booths surrounded me. The Regal Theatre booth sold popcorn buckets featuring Blumhouse, Godzilla, Jason Voorhees, and Ghostface. Bull Airs, a pop culture-inspired fashion brand, partnered with the Jim Henson Company to create products featuring characters and themes from The Dark Crystal, Labyrinth, and Monster Cereals. I nearly snagged a Count Chocula jacket and matching sneaks. Meanwhile, Civil Regime partnered with Disney Villains, Marvel Zombies, Predator, and Alien, among others. Jackets and shirts galore, with some pieces exclusive to the con. I desperately wanted their Predator bomber jacket, but my size sold out before I grabbed one. I could keep listing the booths that caught my eye, and we’d be here all day, but I must mention Mezco Toys. They displayed my favorite collectibles: Living Dead Dolls, horror-themed dolls first launched in 1998, that have only grown in popularity since. I spoke with one of the original creators, Damien Glonek. Not to brag, but we chat every now and then. Horror truly dominated NYCC, as it should. Crystal Lake, DEXTER, and Godzilla Minus Zero all made appearances through booths, panels, and events. For instance, Jason Voorhees and Pabst Blue Ribbon spread terror in certain bars, rewarding brave attendees with quality beer and exclusive PBR and Jason merchandise. NYCC kept me busy, so I missed out on living out my slasher bar fantasy. I'm also bummed I didn’t get to experience the Crystal Lake haunt, but friends who did reported that the actors and jump scares were top-notch. After fulfilling my press duties, I indulged in some Sunday shopping. I headed straight to the Tim Jacobus booth, a notable horror icon known for his artwork on the earlier R.L. Stine Goosebumps books. I bought art and got some of my Goosebumps books signed, which made kid me happy af. Attending all four days was exhausting, but I burned calories walking and carrying a heavy backpack, and it was absolutely worth it. NYCC captured the essence of conventions: the fandom. There was something for everyone. Many fans put significant effort into their cosplays, which adds to NYCC's charm. Although I wandered off to explore non-horror things, horror kept calling me back. I had a great time and can't wait to see how horror evolves alongside New York Comic Con. This was a great way to celebrate Halloween before actual Halloween. Damian Hex is a horror-themed performer, video game tester, and media personality. As a proud queer person of color, he uses his voice to amplify marginalized voices. You can find him at screenings, nightlife events, conventions, and ghoul gatherings. When he is not outside striking terror into the hearts of innocents, you can catch him spreading the unholy word to audiences on Twitch. Speaking of Twitch, he has several favorite game titles, including Cult of the Lamb, Hollow Knight, Mortal Kombat, Parasite Eve, and Castlevania: Symphony of the Night. Follow Damian on Instagram @damianhex

Shot on 16mm film, this ambitious debut feature blends surrealist cinema, psychological horror, science fiction, and existential philosophy into one wonderfully peculiar experience. Editor's Note: Mild spoilers ahead. This review discusses aspects of the film's narrative, characters, and philosophical themes while preserving its major revelations and ending. By Seth Metoyer | More Horror Every so often, I come across an independent film that reminds me why I enjoy discovering filmmakers with their own peculiar creative vision. Richard Melkonian's Universe25 is one of those films. It's strange, beautifully photographed, philosophical, occasionally disturbing, and filled with ideas that stayed with me long after the credits rolled. There were moments when I found myself thinking about David Lynch, Christopher Nolan's Memento, and even Ingmar Bergman. That's an interesting collection of filmmakers to have wandering around inside your head while watching someone's debut feature. As someone who has spent a considerable amount of time thinking and writing about philosophy, theology, consciousness, technology, and our complicated relationship with time, I found plenty to chew on here. Melkonian explores many of these subjects through a story that moves between religious mythology, science fiction, psychological uncertainty, and existential drama. There's a wonderfully disjointed quality to the filmmaking that gradually draws you into its peculiar world. By the time the story approached its conclusion, I was genuinely on tenterhooks. What impressed me most was how confidently Melkonian approached such ambitious material. This is a filmmaker with a clear appreciation for cinema as an art form, and he seems perfectly comfortable allowing his audience to wander through some rather strange philosophical territory. An Angel From the Future and the End of the World A young postal worker, played by Jacob Meadows, discovers a mysterious letter while sorting through undeliverable mail. The letter contains an account written by someone claiming to be a fallen angel from the future named Mott, played by Giacomo Gex. Mott has arrived on Earth with three instructions from an unknown master. Before the next Sabbath, when the world will supposedly end, he must locate a saint unaware of his own holiness, find a sacrificial lamb and offer its blood, and write a scroll documenting everything he witnesses. His journey takes him through London and Bucharest, where he encounters an assortment of characters whose lives become entangled with his increasingly confusing mission. Along the way, Mott begins questioning his purpose, his identity, and the authority responsible for sending him into this world. What initially presents itself as a supernatural story grows increasingly complicated when we learn more about Mott's origins. His account includes advanced computing, quantum technology, transportation across time, and a future in which humanity has merged with machines. Suddenly, the concept of an angel takes on an entirely different meaning. I really enjoyed how Melkonian places futuristic technology alongside ancient religious symbolism. We have biblical prophecy, divine instructions, and sacrificial imagery existing in the same universe as quantum computers and artificial intelligence. There's something wonderfully absurd about a supposedly celestial messenger receiving instructions through telephone calls while wandering through contemporary cities. The story also introduces an interesting mystery concerning the reliability of its narrator. How much of Mott's account can we accept? What exactly is he, and does he fully understand his own existence? The film invites us to consider these questions as the narrative becomes increasingly fragmented. Lynch, Memento, and a Touch of Bergman One of the first things that struck me about Universe25 was how good it looks. Shot on 16mm Kodak film, the movie possesses a distinctive visual quality that complements its unconventional storytelling. Cinematographer Juanjo L. Salazar and Melkonian create imagery that feels tactile, atmospheric, and occasionally dreamlike. The film moves between color and black-and-white photography, giving certain sequences an almost timeless quality. I've always appreciated filmmakers who understand that the camera can communicate ideas and emotions beyond what's happening in the dialogue. Melkonian clearly shares that appreciation. His visual approach frequently reinforces the uncertainty surrounding Mott's journey, creating the sensation that we're observing events through a perspective we may never fully understand. David Lynch came to mind during several sequences, particularly in the way ordinary conversations and locations gradually become uncomfortable or surreal. There's a familiar strangeness to some of these encounters that reminded me of Lynch's willingness to let reality become increasingly unstable. I also picked up some Memento vibes, particularly in the film's treatment of identity, chronology, and the unreliability of personal experience. Christopher Nolan's film explores the relationship between memory and our understanding of reality, and while Universe25 approaches those subjects differently, I found myself making connections between the two. There was also a black-and-white sequence that reminded me of some of Ingmar Bergman's work. Its visual atmosphere carried that stark, contemplative quality I associate with his cinema, particularly his exploration of mortality and religious uncertainty. Given the theological themes running through Universe25, that association felt especially appropriate. These are my own cinematic reference points rather than an attempt to place Melkonian's work neatly alongside those filmmakers. What I appreciate is that he seems interested in exploring the expressive possibilities of cinema, and that enthusiasm comes through in the finished film. Time, Consciousness, and the Question of Identity The philosophical territory is where Universe25 became especially interesting to me. I've long been fascinated by the nature of time, particularly the distinction between time as something we measure and time as something we actually experience. Memory, consciousness, and personal identity all complicate our understanding of what it means to exist within time. Early in the film, Mott discusses his origins as a hyperintelligence from a technologically advanced future. He explains that he can exist under different identities, including Mott and Tom, comparing this apparent contradiction to a quantum bit capable of occupying multiple states. That concept immediately opens the door to philosophical questions concerning identity and continuity. If our personalities, memories, and consciousness can change or potentially exist independently of our biological bodies, what actually makes us who we are? Philosopher Derek Parfit explored related questions concerning personal identity, psychological continuity, and survival. His work challenges the assumption that identity necessarily represents something permanent and indivisible. Mott's shifting understanding of himself makes that philosophical territory particularly relevant. I also found myself thinking about Henri Bergson, whose philosophy distinguished between measurable, spatialized time and what he called duration, our lived experience of time as a continuous flow shaped by consciousness and memory. There's something fascinating about applying those ideas to a character who claims to exist beyond the ordinary human experience of time yet struggles to understand what it means to live within it. Melkonian's fragmented storytelling reinforces that uncertainty, creating an experience where chronology and personal perception become increasingly unstable. The film also raises questions about determinism and free will. Mott believes he must fulfill instructions from an authority that created him, yet his encounters with humanity begin to challenge his sense of purpose. His predicament forces us to consider whether a being designed to obey can eventually develop the capacity to choose its own existence. Those questions become even more compelling when we consider the film's relationship with artificial intelligence. Artificial Intelligence and Humanity's Obsession With Immortality One of the more intriguing aspects of Universe25 is its exploration of humanity's relationship with technology. Mott describes a future where human beings have merged with machines, radically transforming the biological limitations that once defined their existence. The film also includes a conversation about biotechnology companies, wealthy investors, and the pursuit of extending human life. The discussion touches on Silicon Valley's fascination with longevity and the possibility that technological advancement could eventually allow humanity to overcome some of its most fundamental biological limitations. These ideas connect naturally with transhumanism, a philosophical and technological movement concerned with enhancing human capabilities through scientific advancement. Thinkers such as Nick Bostrom have examined the possible futures of technologically transformed humanity, along with the philosophical implications of those transformations. What I found particularly interesting is the contradiction at the heart of Mott's experience. Here we have a technologically advanced being who possesses something resembling immortality, yet he becomes increasingly fascinated by the very human experiences that his future civilization has apparently moved beyond. At one point, Mott observes two people kissing and struggles to comprehend what he's witnessing. In his world, technological advancement has fundamentally altered reproduction and human relationships. This simple encounter becomes something extraordinary to him. He begins wondering about love, intimacy, and whether another person could ever feel affection toward him. These questions gradually become more important to his existence than the cosmic mission he originally received. I love this aspect of the story because it introduces an interesting paradox. Humanity continues pursuing technologies that promise to extend life and transcend biological limitations, while Mott begins longing for the messy, emotionally complicated experience of being human. It also raises a question worth considering: If we could eliminate mortality and radically transform our biological existence, how might that change our understanding of love, desire, relationships, and the meaning we attach to our limited time here? Melkonian gives us an unusual science-fiction premise through which to contemplate some very contemporary concerns. Religion, Gnosticism, and the Problem of Divine Authority The religious symbolism in Universe25 goes well beyond its references to angels and biblical prophecy. Throughout the story, Mott wrestles with questions about his creator, the nature of holiness, and his obligation to fulfill instructions whose ultimate purpose remains unclear. During one particularly revealing passage, he explains that he must obey his master because that master created him and programmed him to follow orders. That statement caught my attention. There's a fascinating theological problem embedded in the relationship between a creator and a being whose existence depends upon that creator's authority. Does obedience constitute genuine faith when the individual has no meaningful choice? And what happens when a created being begins questioning the instructions governing its existence? These questions reminded me of Søren Kierkegaard, particularly his exploration of faith, anxiety, and the individual's relationship with divine authority. Kierkegaard recognized the profound existential tension involved in confronting religious questions that exceed ordinary rational certainty. I also found myself considering certain themes associated with Gnostic thought. Various ancient Gnostic traditions explored distinctions between the highest divine reality and lesser creative or governing powers, sometimes portraying humanity as existing within a world whose apparent authority conceals a deeper spiritual problem. I'm certainly not suggesting that Universe25 presents a specifically Gnostic theology, but Mott's struggle with his creator, his confusion about the nature of his mission, and his desire for another form of existence invite that kind of interpretation. The film also makes interesting use of traditional Christian imagery. References to Moses, sacrificial offerings, sainthood, and the Book of Revelation appear throughout the dialogue. Yet these concepts frequently emerge through characters whose behavior complicates conventional assumptions about holiness. At one point, Mott discovers that someone he believes to be a saint may possess considerably less admirable qualities than expected. The resulting confusion creates some darkly humorous moments while raising a worthwhile question about how we define goodness. I appreciated the willingness to explore these ideas through imperfect characters and morally complicated situations. There are moments when the film seems almost playful in its handling of sacred imagery, and others when the existential implications become genuinely unsettling. Universe 25 and the Psychology of Collapse The film's title also carries an interesting historical reference. During one conversation, a character discusses Universe 25, the famous experiment conducted by American researcher John B. Calhoun involving the behavior of mice living within a controlled environment. Calhoun's experiment began in 1968 and examined population growth and behavioral changes in a colony provided with abundant resources and protected from predators. Despite those favorable conditions, the population eventually experienced severe social disruption and reproductive collapse. The experiment subsequently became a popular cultural metaphor for the dangers of social deterioration, overcrowding, and the breakdown of communal behavior. Researchers and commentators have debated the extent to which its findings offer meaningful parallels to human societies. Melkonian incorporates the experiment into a story already concerned with humanity's potential extinction, the consequences of technological advancement, and the fragile structures governing civilization. It's an interesting thematic connection, particularly when we consider the film's portrayal of characters struggling with isolation, damaged relationships, and uncertainty about their place in the world. The psychological aspects of Universe25 also deserve attention. One character discusses schizophrenia and his family's experiences with hallucinations, introducing another layer of ambiguity to Mott's supernatural claims. Throughout the film, characters experience confusion, emotional distress, and profound uncertainty about their own lives. Mott himself eventually struggles to reconcile his shifting identities and the increasingly contradictory nature of his experiences. These elements add to the psychological horror of the story. Melkonian creates an atmosphere where the audience must continually reconsider what they're witnessing, allowing questions about reality and perception to become part of the overall experience. Strong Performances and a Remarkable Musical Identity A film this unusual needs convincing performances, and fortunately, Universe25 delivers. Giacomo Gex is excellent as Mott, bringing a compelling mixture of confusion, determination, curiosity, and vulnerability to the character. What I particularly enjoyed about his performance was how he handled Mott's gradual fascination with humanity. There's something simultaneously amusing and moving about watching a being who claims extraordinary knowledge struggle to understand relatively ordinary human emotions and interactions. The supporting cast also contributes considerably to the film's strange atmosphere. Dan Sociu, Tania Khan, Jacob Meadows, and the other performers help establish a world populated by people whose lives seem to exist somewhere between the mundane and the surreal. The acting throughout is top-notch, and I appreciated how naturally the performers navigate material that could easily become overly theatrical in less capable hands. Even during some of the film's stranger moments, the performances provide a sense of authenticity that helps ground the experience. Another element that deserves considerable recognition is the musical score. Melkonian is also the film's composer, and his background in classical music becomes an important part of the production's identity. As someone who works in film music and sound design, I'm always interested in how composers approach the relationship between sound, image, and emotion. The score here is excellent. Melkonian wrote the music for a string quartet, giving the film an expressive musical dimension that complements its visual atmosphere and psychological tension. After reading his production notes, I found it particularly interesting that he considers Universe25 a musical drama. He describes music, imagery, and rhythm as central elements of his original creative vision, with the narrative and characters developing around those initial artistic impulses. That approach makes considerable sense after watching the finished film. The music feels integral to the overall experience, reinforcing the emotional and philosophical dimensions of the story. Melkonian also reveals that he discarded his original musical sketches and composed the completed score during an intensive four-week period. It's a fascinating detail that speaks to his willingness to let the project evolve creatively. The marriage of music, image, and performance gives Universe25 much of its distinctive identity, and I think it's one of the film's strongest achievements. An Unconventional Journey From Script to Screen There's an equally interesting story behind the production itself. Melkonian developed Universe25 over several years, beginning filming in November 2021 and shooting the final scene in February 2024. Rather than working from a completed screenplay, he wrote and developed material throughout production, allowing previously filmed scenes to influence the direction of the story. His approach drew inspiration from documentary filmmaking, devised theater, and filmmakers such as Mike Leigh and Wong Kar Wai. Melkonian also describes his interest in polystylism, drawing inspiration from composers Luciano Berio and Alfred Schnittke, along with poet Fernando Pessoa. The concept involves combining and manipulating different artistic styles, allowing contrasting forms and approaches to coexist within a single work. Knowing this provides some useful context for the finished film. Its shifting tone and unconventional structure reflect a creative process that encouraged experimentation and discovery. Melkonian is an Armenian-British composer and director whose work spans classical music, opera, theater, film, and performance art. He studied at the Guildhall School of Music & Drama and has developed projects across multiple artistic disciplines. Universe25 marks his feature directorial debut, and the film made its world premiere at the 2025 Slamdance Film Festival, where it received a Grand Jury Prize nomination. It's an impressive introduction to his feature filmmaking career, especially considering the ambition of the material and the unconventional methods involved in bringing it to the screen. Final Thoughts: What Does It Mean to Be Human? By the time Universe25 approached its conclusion, I was thoroughly invested. The ending had me on tenterhooks, and I appreciated how Melkonian managed to sustain genuine tension within a story so deeply concerned with philosophical questions and unconventional storytelling. The film gives viewers plenty to contemplate. There are questions about consciousness, identity, artificial intelligence, religious authority, mortality, and the strange ways human beings attempt to make sense of their existence. Some of these ideas invite multiple interpretations, and I suspect different viewers will take away very different things from the experience. For me, one of the most compelling aspects of Universe25 is Mott's growing desire to experience humanity. His fascination with love, emotional connection, and the limitations of physical existence becomes increasingly poignant when placed alongside the film's exploration of technological immortality. I've spent quite a bit of time contemplating our relationship with time and the peculiar way consciousness seems to bind past experiences, present awareness, and imagined futures together. I found those concerns echoed throughout Mott's journey. His struggle with identity and his desire to understand what it means to truly live provided some of the film's most interesting material. And beyond the philosophical rabbit holes, there's simply a great deal of filmmaking talent on display here. The cinematography is beautiful, the performances are excellent, the musical score adds another expressive layer, and Melkonian demonstrates an adventurous approach to visual storytelling. I genuinely dug this film. Universe25 will likely appeal most strongly to viewers who appreciate experimental cinema, philosophical science fiction, surreal storytelling, and psychological horror that allows its unsettling ideas to develop gradually. Fans of filmmakers such as David Lynch and Ingmar Bergman may recognize some familiar artistic territory, while the film's technological and existential themes give it a character of its own. Richard Melkonian has delivered an ambitious, intellectually engaging, and visually striking debut feature. I'm curious to see what he explores next, particularly if he continues approaching cinema with this level of artistic freedom. More Horror Verdict: Universe25 is a wonderfully strange and thought-provoking journey through technology, theology, mortality, and human consciousness. With excellent performances, beautiful 16mm cinematography, and a memorable classical score, Richard Melkonian's debut feature offers plenty for adventurous viewers to explore. About Universe25 Film: Universe25 Writer, Director & Composer: Richard Melkonian Starring: Giacomo Gex, Dan Sociu, Tania Khan, Jacob Meadows, Alex Bogdan, Ana-Maria Guran, Maria Forrester Cinematography: Juanjo L. Salazar Production Design & Costume Design: Elodie Chiper Editor: Tomasso Gallone Sound Design: Srdjan Krupjel Runtime: 84 minutes Countries of Production: United Kingdom / Romania Format: 16mm Kodak film, color and black-and-white World Premiere: Slamdance Film Festival, 2025 Production: Entropy Films

Carrie (2026) Developed for television by Mike Flanagan Now streaming on Prime Video By Devin Smock | More Horror SPOILERS THROUGHOUT This review covers Episodes 1-4 only. Nobody needs another version of Carrie simply because the title can be recognized from space. Stephen King’s novel has been adapted, remade, continued and turned into a musical. Brian De Palma’s 1976 film still works. The bucket is still hanging up there. We know what is in it, and we know where it eventually goes. Mike Flanagan was the reason I was excited anyway. Flanagan has shown that he understands the difference between adapting King and simply collecting the recognizable parts. The first four episodes of this new Carrie series do not run from what we already know, but they also do not sprint toward prom as if that is the only reason anybody came. Television gives the story something the movies never really had: time. Time is dangerous in Carrie. It means we have to live with the humiliation instead of jumping from one famous scene to the next. This version begins with Carrie White still hidden from the world by her parents. Her father Ralph’s sudden death exposes the family’s existence and forces Carrie and Margaret into contact with schools, authorities, jobs and people they have spent years avoiding. That is a significant change from the novel and the earlier films, but it gives this adaptation a practical way to place Carrie inside a modern public school without pretending she has somehow been there unnoticed the entire time. Summer H. Howell plays Carrie as someone trying to learn rules everybody else absorbed years ago. She is not stupid and she is not walking around like a loaded weapon waiting for the script to pull the trigger. She is painfully unprepared. Every conversation becomes another test nobody told her she was taking. Then comes the locker room. The scene has always been awful because Carrie genuinely believes she is dying while the other girls laugh at her. Bringing phones and social media into it could have been the cheapest possible modernization. Unfortunately, it also makes perfect sense. The cruelty no longer ends when somebody leaves the locker room. It can be recorded, uploaded, replayed, edited into a joke and delivered back to the victim by a thousand strangers. The original humiliation had walls. This one does not. That is where the first four episodes give me exactly the right amount of anxiety. Carrie is not safe at school, but home is not relief. It is another trap with different wallpaper. Samantha Sloyan’s Margaret White is frightening because she does not need to be screaming every second. She can sound protective while tightening the rope. She loves Carrie, or at least believes she does, but every piece of care comes poisoned by fear, control and religious certainty. The softer moments do not excuse her cruelty. They make it worse because we can see how Carrie might mistake possession for love. Howell and Sloyan understand that the relationship is the heart of the story. The telekinesis matters, obviously, but a floating object is not nearly as upsetting as watching a child look to the person hurting her for comfort. The series format also allows Sue Snell, Chris Hargensen, Tommy Ross, Miss Desjardin and the rest of the school to exist as more than pieces being moved toward one bloody night. Sue’s guilt has room to develop. Chris’s cruelty has a social ecosystem around it. The adults have enough screen time to reveal what they see, what they miss and what they decide is somebody else’s problem. That does not mean everything here is material rescued directly from King’s pages. This is not a museum-piece adaptation. Ralph’s expanded presence, Carrie entering public school for the first time and the machinery of viral humiliation are major inventions or updates. Eight episodes give Flanagan room to restore things other versions compressed, use the novel’s wider view of a community and build new material around it. So far, that expansion works more often than it feels like expansion for its own sake. The danger with stretching Carrie across eight episodes is obvious. Dread can build, but it can also sit around until it turns into padding. Halfway through, the series is still mostly applying pressure. It lets Carrie experience small pieces of the outside world, lets us hope one of them might remain good, and then reminds us what story we are watching. Flanagan directs the first two episodes, with Kate Siegel taking the third and Axelle Carolyn the fourth. The change in directors does not make the series feel stitched together. The visual language remains patient and close to Carrie, especially when a crowded school makes her look like the only person without instructions. The first four episodes are not a complete meal, and I am not going to grade the ending before I have seen it. What they establish is promising: a Carrie that understands the old story while finding a modern form of public humiliation cruel enough to stand beside it. More importantly, the show remembers that Carrie White is not frightening because she has power. She is frightening because everybody around her keeps teaching her what power is for. So far, so pretty good. 7.3/10 for Episodes 1-4

Generation Terror (2024) Directed by Sarah Appleton and Phillip Escott Released on SCREAMBOX September 29, 2026 By Devin Smock | More Horror SPOILERS THROUGHOUT Horror movies do not crawl out of a vacuum. A country gets scared, angry, paranoid or just plain exhausted, and sooner or later somebody puts that feeling on a screen. Maybe it wears a mask. Maybe it carries a camera. Maybe it locks somebody in a filthy room and asks how badly they want to live. That connection between society and the horror being made at the time has been discussed plenty, but it is such a large subject that most conversations get through the front door and stop in the hallway. I initially thought Generation Terror was attempting the broad version of that discussion. I had the right neighborhood, but not quite the right house. Sarah Appleton and Phillip Escott are more specifically interested in the late 1990s and the explosion of horror around the turn of the millennium. The question is not simply what scared us. It is why so much horror, from so many places, arrived at once and why it suddenly felt meaner, faster and less interested in letting the audience go home clean. Conceptually, I was in before it really got started. The 1990s are my generation of horror, at least chronologically. They are also the reason I eventually wandered backward and spent more time in the 1970s and 1980s. Horror in the 90s could be great, but it could also be painfully hit or miss. Too clean. Too glossy. Sometimes it looked like everybody had just stepped out of a music video, even when somebody was trying to murder them. What Generation Terror does well is refuse to treat that gloss as the whole decade. It starts pulling at the wires beneath it. Y2K anxiety, the rapid spread of the internet, easier access to films from other countries, DVD culture, American studios strip-mining international horror for remakes, 9/11, the War on Terror and the images of real institutional cruelty that followed all become part of the same ugly weather system. The movie moves through J-horror and its American remakes, the New French Extremity, the return of zombies and infected people, the arrival of Saw and Hostel, and the era when “torture porn” became both a label and an argument. These movements did not all come from the same country or have the same intentions, but the documentary makes a convincing case that they were feeding on a shared atmosphere. The world felt unstable. Horror stopped pretending otherwise. That is where the film is more interesting than a simple parade of titles. It does not merely say, “Remember this one?” and wait for applause. It tries to explain why those movies found an audience at that exact moment. There is an obvious family resemblance to the In Search of Darkness documentaries. We get filmmakers, writers, critics and fans looking back at an era, placing individual movies inside a larger history. I enjoy that format, so the comparison is not a complaint. Generation Terror is shorter and has a more specific question in mind. It is less concerned with completing a checklist than following the pressure that carried horror out of the 90s and into the next century. The selection of guests helps. There are recognizable filmmakers and genre figures, including Rob and Sheri Moon Zombie, Jeffrey Reddick, James Wong, Neil Marshall, Xavier Gens, Simon Barrett and Adam Wingard, but Appleton and Escott do not rely only on the same handful of people who appear in every horror retrospective. The critics and fans bring perspectives that overlap without becoming identical. Similar enough to stay in the same conversation, different enough that it does not feel like everybody was handed the same approved memory of the era. I especially appreciate that the guests are allowed to have complicated relationships with these films. Horror history gets boring when it becomes worship. Not every successful movie was great. Not every ugly movie was empty. Some of them were sincere reactions to the culture. Some were businesses noticing what sold. Usually it was both, because that is how movies work no matter how romantic we get about them afterward. The tradeoff is breadth. Generation Terror can get to the edge of an interesting subject and then has to move on because another country, movement or cultural wound is waiting. A documentary could spend its entire running time on the American remake boom, or on the relationship between torture imagery in the news and the horror films that followed. This one has roughly 100 minutes to cover a lot of bloody ground. It is an introduction to the larger argument rather than the final word on it. Still, I came away with what I wanted from it: context, not just nostalgia. The documentary did not suddenly make me trade my 70s and 80s shelves for the shiny horror of the late 90s. It did make me look again at an era I have probably dismissed too easily at times. Underneath the polish was a generation staring at a new century and realizing it did not feel new at all. It felt like the old fear had learned how to use the internet. That is a subject worth digging into, and Generation Terror digs far enough to make me wish it had another hour. 7.1/10 A screener of Generation Terror was provided for review purposes.

The early-2000s creature features return with remastered editions, a new streaming release, and some seriously foul-smelling collectibles. Seth Metoyer | More Horror There's something special about independent horror filmmakers who know how to have a little fun with their movies, especially when they're resurrecting titles that have spent years lurking in the darker corners of home video history. Case in point: Reeker and Reeker 2: No Man's Land, two creature features from writer-director Dave Payne that are getting a new lease on life this Halloween season. Both films arrive on Tubi for free, ad-supported streaming on October 19, giving longtime fans an opportunity to revisit the madness while introducing an entirely new audience to one of horror's more peculiar monsters. And apparently, the people behind these movies want you to experience the horror through your nose, too. I recently received a promotional package from the Reeker team here at More Horror, and I have to give them credit. They went all out with a wonderfully disgusting collection of goodies celebrating the films' return. But first, a little history. A Forgotten Corner of 2000s Horror Released in 2005, Reeker arrived during a particularly interesting period for the genre. Horror was experiencing something of an identity crisis, with Hollywood remaking established franchises, extreme horror gaining momentum, and independent filmmakers experimenting with increasingly bizarre ways to terrify audiences. Payne's film offered its own twisted contribution to that landscape. The story follows a group of friends who find themselves stranded at an isolated desert motel, where an unseen threat begins picking them off in increasingly gruesome circumstances. Their attacker is a mysterious, decomposing entity whose arrival comes with an unmistakable warning: an absolutely unbearable stench. It's a ridiculous premise in the best possible horror-movie tradition. There's something beautifully absurd about creating a monster whose most memorable supernatural calling card is body odor from hell. But beneath the creature-feature gimmick, Reeker also plays with mystery, dark humor, and some interesting narrative twists. The film premiered at South by Southwest before eventually reaching audiences internationally. The follow-up, No Man's Land: The Rise of Reeker (2008), expands the mythology while taking the story back to the desert. This time, a sheriff and his son become entangled with a group of criminals, and their increasingly desperate circumstances lead them straight into the path of the foul-smelling killer. The second film operates as a prequel, exploring more of the mythology surrounding the creature and its origins. Both movies belong to that wonderfully strange era when horror filmmakers could take a relatively simple concept, throw in some gore, dark comedy, and supernatural weirdness, and see how far the whole thing could go. Reborn, Remastered, and Ready to Stink Again The filmmakers have revisited both movies with newly remastered editions, including 4K presentations featuring Dolby Vision and Dolby Atmos audio for compatible digital formats. Originally distributed in the United States through Lionsgate and Paramount Home Video, the films are now returning through an independent re-release effort spearheaded by their original creators. And with both titles arriving on Tubi on October 19, audiences can catch up on the franchise just in time for Halloween. The filmmakers are also promoting physical editions and collectible merchandise through the official Reeker website, including some particularly creative scratch-and-sniff packaging. Which brings me back to that box sitting on my desk. The Smell of Fear (and Some Truly Questionable Candy) When the Reeker promotional package arrived, I immediately appreciated the presentation. The box features artwork from both films, accompanied by the sort of lurid, over-the-top promotional design that brings back memories of browsing horror titles at the local video store. Inside were copies of both movies, scratch-and-sniff collectibles, a zombie-shaped hanging air freshener, and a few other goodies. And then there was the durian-flavored candy. Now, anyone familiar with durian knows the tropical fruit has earned quite a reputation for its powerful aroma. Naturally, someone thought turning that experience into candy would make an excellent promotional item for a horror franchise about a monster that smells like death. I decided to give it a try. At first, I was pleasantly surprised. The candy had this buttery, caramel-like flavor that reminded me of a Werther's Original. I thought maybe durian candy had an unfair reputation. That initial sweetness turned out to be a spectacular deception. Within moments, the flavor began transforming into something considerably less pleasant. I managed to keep the candy in my mouth for approximately one minute before surrendering. I have experienced some unsettling things in my years covering horror movies, and somehow a piece of candy managed to become one of them. The package also included a hanging zombie air freshener that apparently carries its own offensive aroma. I decided to leave that one sealed. Some mysteries deserve to remain unsolved. The whole experience was ridiculous, disgusting, and genuinely entertaining, which makes it a remarkably appropriate way to promote these particular movies. Giving Independent Horror Another Life Beyond the novelty of the promotional package, there's something worthwhile about seeing filmmakers return to their older projects and introduce them to contemporary audiences. The mid-2000s produced an enormous number of independent horror releases. Some developed dedicated cult followings, while others gradually disappeared into the vast machinery of distribution, changing formats, and shifting viewing habits. Today, streaming platforms offer these movies another opportunity to reach audiences who might have missed them the first time around. I particularly appreciate the effort Payne and his team have put into this revival. They've gone beyond simply making the films available again, embracing the strange identity of the franchise and building a promotional campaign around its most memorable characteristic. It's the kind of creative enthusiasm I enjoy seeing from independent filmmakers. And frankly, horror needs room for this sort of weirdness. Sometimes you want an atmospheric ghost story or a psychologically devastating descent into madness. Other times, you're perfectly happy watching a grotesque supernatural creature terrorize people at a desert motel while wondering what terrible thing everyone just smelled. There's room for all of it. Where to Watch Reeker and Reeker 2 Reeker and No Man's Land: The Rise of Reeker are scheduled to premiere on Tubi on October 19, 2026, with both films available to stream free with ads. Fans can also explore the remastered releases, trailers, behind-the-scenes features, and collectible merchandise through the franchise's official website. Official Website: https://www.reekermovie.com/ Official YouTube: @ReekerOfficial Special thanks to the Reeker team for sending over the promotional package and reminding me that sometimes the best horror marketing comes with a warning label. As for the durian candy, I survived. Barely. I think I'll stick to Red Vines when I watch the movies.

Joseph Mazzaferro's supernatural horror feature taps into old-school slasher influences, creepy folklore and practical effects for a brisk trip into the darker corners of independent filmmaking. By Seth Metoyer | More Horror There's something about urban legends that makes them such fertile ground for horror movies. Most of us grew up hearing stories about Bloody Mary, mysterious figures lurking in the darkness, or some terrible thing that might happen if we repeated a certain phrase enough times. Naturally, someone eventually gets curious enough to try it. In The Knock Knock Man, writer-director Joseph Mazzaferro takes that familiar curiosity and builds a supernatural slasher around a mysterious entity that probably deserves a little more respect than your average party game. At around 73 minutes, the film unfolds at a comfortable, if occasionally slower pace, featuring a memorable antagonist and offering a few delightfully gruesome moments. It’s a modest indie production that knows the charm of a good monster, especially one with his own set of rules. A Game You Probably Shouldn't Play The premise follows a group of friends who decide to test an urban legend surrounding a mysterious figure known as the Knock Knock Man. What begins as an innocent dare quickly takes a disturbing turn when someone breaks one of the game's rules, allowing the entity to enter their world. From there, the friends find themselves facing something far more dangerous than an old campfire story. There's a familiar supernatural framework at work here. The idea of summoning something through a ritual or game reminded me a little of Talk to Me (2022), where curiosity and peer pressure open the door to forces the characters barely understand. Mazzaferro approaches that concept through the lens of a more traditional supernatural slasher. I also caught some definite A Nightmare on Elm Street influences throughout the film. As someone who grew up during the 1980s, I can appreciate that. Seriously, how many of us horror kids made it through that decade without Freddy Krueger leaving a permanent impression somewhere in our creative DNA? The Knock Knock Man himself feels comfortably at home in that tradition of supernatural killers who operate according to their own peculiar mythology. Atmosphere, Practical Effects and a Creepy Visitor One of the things I appreciated about the film was its visual presentation. The lighting and cinematography give the production a polished appearance in several sequences, and the filmmakers clearly put some thought into creating an atmosphere that works with the material. The creature design is another highlight. The Knock Knock Man has an unsettling appearance, complete with a distinctive hat and enough personality to make his presence interesting whenever he arrives. A recognizable monster can go a long way in a horror film, and I think the filmmakers have something worth exploring with this character. The practical effects also deserve some recognition. There are a handful of kills that benefit from the physicality of practical gore, something I've always appreciated in low-budget horror. The effects give those moments some welcome impact. I also enjoyed the film's opening 911 call. I won't spoil what happens, although it caught my attention right away and helped establish the kind of experience the filmmakers were aiming to deliver. The music deserves a mention as well. The score complements the tension and creepy atmosphere throughout the film, supporting the suspense without overwhelming the action. Horror relies heavily on the relationship between sound and image, and I appreciated how those elements came together here. Familiar Territory With Some Personality The Knock Knock Man follows a fairly recognizable horror formula. We've seen groups of friends make questionable decisions, investigate supernatural legends and discover the consequences of ignoring warnings in countless genre films. The characters and story largely serve that familiar setup, and I would have enjoyed a little more development surrounding some of the personalities and the mythology itself. Still, there's room for filmmakers to revisit familiar territory and introduce their own characters into the genre's growing collection of monsters. What interested me most was the Knock Knock Man himself. There's a strange personality to the character that occasionally extends beyond the usual supernatural killer routine. His behavior and the rules surrounding his appearances give the story some entertaining possibilities. I particularly enjoyed the way the film concludes. Without giving anything away, the closing moments deliver a playful little reminder that dealing with supernatural entities can get complicated, especially when you think you've figured out the rules. The final sequence left me smiling. There's something satisfying about a horror movie finding one last opportunity to get under your skin before the credits roll. An '80s Horror Kid Behind the Camera Those old-school horror influences are very much intentional. Mazzaferro, an independent filmmaker based in the Tampa Bay area of Florida, grew up during the explosion of slasher cinema and credits that era with inspiring his creative career. In comments shared with More Horror, he explained what drew him to this particular project: "I'm an '80s kid, and I grew up during what I consider one of the greatest eras of horror filmmaking. Slasher movies were a huge part of my childhood, and that fascination never really went away. Those films are a big reason I became a filmmaker. With The Knock Knock Man, I wanted to tap into that same feeling I remember growing up — the suspense, the fear, and the excitement of watching something that genuinely gets under your skin. For me, making horror films has always been about sharing that experience with a new generation of fans." That makes sense when you consider the film's approach to its central antagonist. The character belongs to a long tradition of supernatural figures who thrive on recognizable imagery, mysterious rules and the terrifying consequences of crossing them. There's also something rather fitting about a filmmaker who grew up watching Freddy Krueger and his contemporaries now creating his own nightmare figure for another generation of horror fans. Whether the Knock Knock Man eventually develops into a recurring franchise character remains to be seen, but I appreciate the attempt to contribute another monster to the genre's mythology. The Independent Horror Factor I've spent years working on independent films, including productions where budgets were small, schedules were tight and everyone involved had to find creative ways to make things happen. That experience has given me a particular appreciation for filmmakers who take an idea and actually get it onto the screen. Putting together a feature-length movie requires an enormous amount of coordination. Finding capable actors, securing locations, getting the lighting right, recording usable audio, creating practical effects and assembling everything into a finished film can become a small miracle of logistics. And that's before anyone has to figure out how to get people to watch it. Mazzaferro knows that world well. He founded MAZZ Appeal Films, an independent production company with more than two decades of experience across film and video production. His body of work spans horror features, documentaries, commercials and other projects. Among the company's horror productions are Halloween at Aunt Ethel's, Scathing, The Haunting of Julia Fields, The House on Laura Anne Dr. and The Box in the Attic. It's a catalog that speaks to a filmmaker who keeps creating and finding ways to get those projects in front of audiences. Watching The Knock Knock Man, I found myself appreciating several of those production elements. The visuals work, the practical effects provide some memorable moments, the music supports the atmosphere, and the film keeps its runtime lean enough to maintain momentum. Of course, there are areas where the film could have benefited from additional development. The story relies on established genre conventions, and some of the characters could use more depth. Those observations are part of discussing the film as a finished creative work. I also recognize the enthusiasm and commitment that go into bringing a project like this to life. Independent horror has always thrived on people who love the genre enough to create something with the resources they have. Some of those films eventually become underground favorites. Others find smaller audiences who appreciate them for their creatures, practical effects, atmosphere or wonderfully strange ideas. You never quite know what might connect with someone. Final Thoughts The Knock Knock Man is a decent little independent horror feature with an appealing supernatural premise, some effective practical gore and a villain who has the potential to develop into something even more interesting. I enjoyed the creature design, the opening sequence and especially the film's closing moments. The production also deserves recognition for its visual presentation and atmospheric music. It's familiar territory, and the story could have explored its characters and mythology further. At the same time, there's enough here to make it worth checking out for fans of low-budget supernatural slashers and urban legend horror. I always encourage horror fans to spend some time exploring the independent side of the genre. There's an entire underground of filmmakers bringing their visions to life, often with a fraction of the resources available to larger productions. Give these movies a chance. You might discover something that earns a permanent spot in your underground horror rotation. And if someone knocks on your door late at night? Well, after watching this one, you might want to think about your next move. More Horror Verdict: A respectable indie supernatural slasher with creepy creature design, practical effects and an entertaining final sting. Worth a look for fans of underground horror. Where to Watch The Knock Knock Man The Knock Knock Man (2025) is available to watch free on Tubi, with additional streaming listings on Apple TV and Prime Video. Availability may vary by location and service. Watch Free on Tubi Apple TV Amazon Prime Video IMDb Film Page

More Horror correspondent Diana Prince joins the Screamfest 2026 opening-night festivities for the world premiere starring Josh Lucas, David Arquette, and Alyssa Milano, while ScareScore introduces a new way to measure audience fear. By Seth Metoyer | More Horror Hollywood rolled out the black carpet for another round of cinematic nightmares on Tuesday, October 6, as the 26th Annual Screamfest (2026 opening-night) Horror Film Festival officially kicked off at the TCL Chinese 6 Theatres. David Arquette at Screamfest 2026 The evening centered on the world premiere of The Night Driver, a new thriller starring Josh Lucas, David Arquette, and Alyssa Milano, with filmmakers, actors, and horror fans gathering to celebrate the opening of the ten-day festival. More Horror correspondent Diana Prince attended as a guest of ScareScore, capturing footage and photos from the red carpet while connecting with several familiar faces from the horror community. The evening also marked an important milestone for ScareScore, which officially launched its biometric entertainment app at Screamfest and introduced an unusual addition to the festival's competitive awards. Horror fans have spent decades arguing over which movies deserve the title of scariest. ScareScore is entering that conversation with a smartwatch, some biometric data, and the possibility of letting our bodies contribute to the verdict. THE NIGHT DRIVER Brings a Highway Nightmare to Screamfest Director Jeremy Weiss' The Night Driver opened the festival with a story that taps into one of horror's oldest and most reliable fears: being stranded with the wrong person in the wrong place. Written by John Cork, the film follows Hurdis Matheson (Josh Lucas), a traveling pharmaceutical salesman whose drive along a dark highway turns into a nightmare after he accidentally strikes a mysterious stranger. Hurdis attempts to help the injured man, offering to drive him to a hospital, only to discover that his passenger has violent intentions. Alyssa Milano at Screamfest 2026 The encounter sets off a terrifying chain of events that leaves Hurdis desperately trying to return home to his wife, Cheryl (Alyssa Milano), while a series of murders complicates his situation. Detective Hank Granger (David Arquette) becomes involved in the investigation, which soon expands into something far more troubling. There's a certain appeal to stories like this. A lonely highway, an unsettling stranger, and the gradual realization that the situation has spiraled beyond anyone's control. The premise recalls the road-bound paranoia of films like The Hitcher, where the open road becomes a place of mounting dread. The film also has an interesting connection to horror history, with Friday the 13th filmmaker Sean S. Cunningham serving as an executive producer. Following the opening-night premiere, the festival scheduled a Q&A with Weiss, Arquette, and Milano, giving audiences an opportunity to hear from the filmmakers and cast. Q&A with Jeremy Weiss, David Arquette, and Alyssa Milano. Diana Prince Shares Her Reaction to THE NIGHT DRIVER For Diana, the premiere carried some personal significance. A longtime Screamfest enthusiast, she had been following The Night Driver since seeing an earlier short-film version several years ago. Watching the story arrive as a feature-length film made the opening-night screening particularly rewarding. "I've been a Screamfest fan for years, so being there on opening night was a real honor. The energy of a room full of excited horror fans made the premiere feel extra special, and The Night Driver was a tense, twisty ride and a perfect way to kick things off. I've been looking forward to this since I first saw the short a few years ago, and the finished film was absolutely worth the wait." — Diana Prince, More Horror Correspondent Diana Prince at Screamfest 2026 It's always interesting when a project develops from a short film into something larger, particularly when someone who experienced its earlier incarnation gets to see the finished feature with a festival audience. Diana's enthusiasm also speaks to the atmosphere that makes horror festivals such a rewarding experience. There's something about watching a new genre film alongside a room full of people who genuinely love this stuff. Every nervous laugh, sudden jump, and collective reaction becomes part of the experience. Throughout the evening, Diana also captured black-carpet moments with actress Sarah Nicklin (V/H/S/Halloween), filmmaker Sam Gonzalez Jr. (Stiletto), and actress and producer Allie Sparks, along with additional footage from the opening-night festivities. Diana Prince, Sarah Nicklin, Sam Gonzalez Jr., and Allie Sparks. ScareScore Brings a New Experiment to Horror Audiences While The Night Driver provided the opening-night entertainment, ScareScore arrived at Screamfest with an idea that could add an interesting dimension to how horror films are experienced and discussed. The company's app uses compatible smartwatches to monitor physiological reactions during screenings, including heart rate, heart-rate variability, movement, and other measurements. ScareScore then uses that information to calculate personalized scores that moviegoers can share and compare. Its film synchronization technology adds another layer to the experience. The system recognizes a movie as it plays and connects viewers' biometric reactions to specific moments on screen, potentially allowing audiences and filmmakers to see which sequences generated the strongest physical responses. Think about the last horror movie that genuinely got under your skin. Perhaps it was a sudden jump scare that caught you completely off guard. Maybe it was a quiet sequence that slowly built tension until you realized you'd been holding your breath. ScareScore aims to capture some of those physical responses and turn them into measurable information. Of course, a racing heart can accompany excitement, surprise, anxiety, and plenty of other emotions. Biometric measurements offer another perspective on how viewers experience a film, and it'll be interesting to see how the technology develops as more horror audiences begin experimenting with it. The First Biometrically Decided Best Feature Award As part of its Screamfest debut, ScareScore is introducing what the company calls the first-ever Biometrically Decided Best Feature award. The concept is straightforward: participating films compete to generate the strongest measured biometric scare response from audiences using the app. "Horror is the perfect genre to focus on because your body doesn't lie, and your opinion is not as good as cold hard facts," said horror film producer and ScareScore co-founder JP Ouellette in the company's announcement. "You can try and brag that a movie didn't scare you, but your biometrics tell a very different story." The competition includes ten feature films screening throughout the festival: Grow Processing Charlie Abandoned Postmortem The Caged Nervous Rinrada The Influencer NINE CHROMA Presents: The Exit State Christmas at the Kringles The award adds a different kind of audience participation to Screamfest's established honors. Filmmakers have long relied on festival screenings to gauge how their films play with an audience. There's value in hearing people laugh, scream, gasp, or go completely silent during a particular scene. ScareScore introduces a way to collect additional information about those reactions while the film unfolds. And considering how competitive horror fans can get when discussing their favorite scares, I suspect the idea of comparing biometric scores could inspire some lively conversations. ScareScore's Technology Follows Films Beyond the Festival One aspect of ScareScore's platform that I find particularly interesting is its ability to continue gathering audience responses after a film completes its festival run. According to the company, its synchronization technology can recognize the same film as it moves from theatrical screenings to streaming platforms and home viewing. This allows ScareScore to continue collecting and comparing biometric reactions across different audiences over the life of a title. In theory, that opens up some fascinating possibilities. How does an audience watching a horror movie during its festival premiere compare with someone streaming it at home six months later? Do the same scenes consistently generate strong reactions? Does the atmosphere of a crowded theater amplify the experience? Those are interesting questions for horror fans, and the potential information could also prove useful to independent filmmakers looking to understand how their work connects with audiences. For a genre built around manipulating tension, anticipation, and our most primitive fears, exploring those reactions through technology feels like an experiment worth watching. Screamfest Celebrates Another Year of Independent Horror Now in its 26th year, Screamfest continues to provide a platform for independent horror filmmakers, established genre talent, and emerging voices looking to introduce audiences to something new. The 2026 festival runs October 6–15 at the TCL Chinese Theatres in Hollywood, with a program of feature films, shorts, special screenings, and industry events. For More Horror, opening night offered another opportunity to connect with the people who keep the genre moving forward. From the world premiere of The Night Driver to ScareScore's introduction of biometric audience scoring, the evening brought together familiar horror traditions and some intriguing new ideas. And judging by Diana's reaction to the opening-night film, Screamfest got things started on a strong note. Special thanks to Sean Decker and the ScareScore team for inviting More Horror to attend and cover the festivities, and to the Screamfest team for their hospitality. For additional information, visit Screamfest and ScareScore. On-site coverage/footage courtesy of: Diana Prince | More Horror

Writer-director Samuel Weston Potter brings a deeply personal story of loss to the screen in a supernatural Halloween thriller that finds its greatest strength in its young cast, eerie atmosphere and emotional heart. By Seth Metoyer | More Horror Editor's Note: This review contains mild story spoilers, including elements of the film’s premise and supernatural themes, while preserving its major plot developments and ending. There's something unsettling about horror stories set in quiet, rural communities. The empty roads, isolated houses, stretches of woods and that peculiar silence that settles over everything after dark. I grew up in Montana, so I know that atmosphere pretty well. There's a certain loneliness to those places that can feel peaceful one moment and downright ominous the next. Watching THE HOLLOW ONES, the new independent supernatural horror film from writer, director and producer Samuel Weston Potter, brought some of those feelings back. Filmed in Utah, the movie captures that cold, melancholy atmosphere and puts it to work in a story about two young brothers struggling with the loss of their parents. At its heart, this is a film about grief and what happens when something sinister discovers exactly how to exploit it. A Halloween Trip Into the Past The story follows brothers Eli and Lane, played by Levi Potter and Owen Potter, who have been living with foster parents following the deaths of their mother and father. The boys are still navigating their grief, although each handles it differently. Their new family offers stability and genuine affection, but the emotional scars remain. As Halloween approaches, local stories about an abandoned neighborhood called Hollow Ridge Creek begin circulating. Decades earlier, the community suffered a devastating flood, leaving behind rumors of strange behavior, sinister religious practices and people who disappeared. Naturally, the boys become curious. And as we've learned from countless horror films over the years, telling kids to stay away from a creepy abandoned place practically guarantees they'll end up there. What they discover is considerably more personal than any local ghost story. Inside a house that seems strangely familiar, the brothers encounter their supposedly deceased parents, alive and apparently waiting for them. There's something immediately troubling about the reunion. The house contains familiar belongings, childhood memories come rushing back, and their parents seem eager to pick up where their lives left off. Yet little details feel peculiar, and the deeper the brothers become involved with this impossible reunion, the more disturbing the situation becomes. Potter gradually introduces the mystery surrounding Hollow Ridge, including an old cult whose history connects to the neighborhood's tragic past. As the supernatural elements intensify, the film explores how easily grief can leave someone vulnerable to manipulation, especially children desperate to reclaim something they've lost. Atmosphere, Performances and Independent Filmmaking One of the things I appreciated most about THE HOLLOW ONES was its overall production quality. I've spent a good portion of my career working on independent films, and I know firsthand how difficult it can be to make a limited production look and sound convincing. Potter has a good visual eye. The cinematography captures the isolation of the setting, and the film maintains a consistent, somber atmosphere. The lighting also deserves some credit, particularly during the darker sequences where visibility and mood need to work together. The sound design is another positive. Dialogue remains clear, the environmental audio feels appropriately balanced, and the technical presentation generally holds together well. These details can make a substantial difference in independent horror, where production limitations sometimes become painfully obvious. And then there are the kids. I've always been impressed when young actors deliver convincing performances. Acting requires an emotional awareness that even seasoned performers sometimes struggle to communicate, so it's especially rewarding to see children handle dramatic material with sincerity. Levi and Owen Potter do a solid job carrying much of the film's emotional weight. Their characters have different responses to grief, and that tension becomes increasingly important as the story progresses. The younger brother's longing to remain with his parents provides some particularly effective moments, while the older brother's growing concern helps ground the escalating supernatural events. The adult cast also contributes to the film's credibility, bringing a welcome sense of warmth and concern to the story, particularly in the scenes involving the boys' foster family. There's a sincerity to the performances that helps the film through some of its more familiar genre territory. The Personal Story Behind THE HOLLOW ONES After watching the film, I reached out to Potter for some additional insight into what inspired the story. His response revealed something that made the film considerably more personal than I initially realized. The filmmaker drew inspiration from conversations with his own children about death, grief and family members they never had the opportunity to know. Potter explained to More Horror: "As a filmmaker, I wanted to explore the idea of dealing with loss combined with the eeriness of Halloween. But I want to explore it in a family-friendly way while trying to maintain a serious tone." He also shared that his family had experienced profound personal loss, including the death of his youngest son at just ten days old. His two older sons would sometimes wonder what their younger brother might have been like as he grew older. They also spoke about Potter's father, who died before his oldest son was born. Those conversations eventually led to the idea that would become THE HOLLOW ONES. "We would have conversations about what it would be like if they could come back to life. And I thought this was an interesting idea: what if you trick-or-treating and found your dead parents at a house and they could re-create childhood memories, but they were just kind of off in a way?" Potter began experimenting with scenes featuring his sons, Levi and Owen, and their performances helped convince him that the idea could sustain an entire feature film. "When we did test scenes, I found that my two older boys, Levi and Owen, did so well and acted with such sincerity that I thought we should make the film together. And I think that really comes out in it." Knowing that background adds another dimension to the performances. These are children working alongside their father to tell a story inspired by conversations their own family has experienced. Potter hopes the film will leave viewers contemplating several overlapping emotions. "My hope is that people will be simultaneously thinking a few different things as they watch it, loss, fear, and hope in moving forward after tragedy." I think that intention comes through, particularly in the film's later moments. When Grief Becomes the Monster One of the more interesting aspects of THE HOLLOW ONES is the way its supernatural forces manipulate memory. The boys encounter familiar objects, childhood experiences and moments they desperately want to revisit. These memories become increasingly important as the story develops, and Potter finds some unsettling material in the idea that the things we treasure most can also become tools of manipulation. There's something genuinely creepy about a supernatural presence that understands your deepest emotional vulnerabilities. It can offer comfort, familiarity and even the illusion of restoring a broken family. The film's scariest trick might be how accurately it recreates the things its characters miss. That concept gives the movie more substance than its familiar haunted-neighborhood and occult-cult ingredients might initially suggest. The horror gradually shifts from the mystery of what happened at Hollow Ridge to the question of whether the boys can recognize the difference between their memories and the dangerous reality surrounding them. Potter also introduces a spiritual dimension that I found interesting. Religious beliefs, questions of good and evil, and the idea of faith as a source of strength become increasingly relevant as the story moves toward its conclusion. There's a distinctly Christian influence in some of these moments, which adds another layer to the supernatural conflict. I appreciated how the film incorporates that perspective into a story about children confronting loss and the temptation to remain emotionally trapped in the past. There's also a surprisingly hopeful quality underneath the darkness, and that becomes increasingly apparent as the story approaches its resolution. A Few Thoughts From Behind the Camera As much as I enjoyed the film's atmosphere and overall execution, there are areas where I think THE HOLLOW ONES could have pushed things further. The story incorporates familiar horror conventions, particularly once the history of the cult begins coming into focus. We've encountered sinister communities, occult rituals and supernatural deception many times before. Potter handles these elements competently, although some of the revelations unfold along fairly predictable lines. As someone who also works as a film composer, I tend to pay close attention to how filmmakers use music to shape the emotional landscape of a story. I'll sometimes catch myself imagining where I might introduce a musical cue or take a scene in a different direction. It's one of those occupational hazards that comes from spending so much time on both sides of independent filmmaking. THE HOLLOW ONES has some genuinely beautiful piano passages that complement its melancholy atmosphere, particularly when the story leans into its more emotional moments. I appreciated that restraint. There were still places where I found myself imagining different musical approaches or thoughts of a stronger presence in other places for the score, but that's largely a matter of personal creative preference. The piano work, in particular, deserves recognition for adding tenderness to a story that spends much of its runtime exploring grief and uncertainty. As far as pacing goes, I think Potter made a smart decision keeping the runtime around 84 minutes. Independent filmmakers sometimes struggle with trimming scenes after investing so much time and effort into producing them. THE HOLLOW ONES occasionally takes its time moving between dramatic developments, but the relatively compact length works in its favor. The film gives its characters room to breathe while keeping the overall story manageable. Finding Something Beautiful in the Darkness For all its supernatural intrigue, THE HOLLOW ONES finds some of its strongest moments when it returns to the simple, painful reality of losing someone you love. Late in the film, there’s a deeply moving line that really stuck with me, though I won’t share it here to avoid giving too much away. Still, it was beautiful—capturing something Potter clearly understands about grief, a sentiment that resonates far beyond the horror aspects of the story. When someone dies, our memories of them can become complicated. We hold onto the happy moments, the regrets, the conversations we wish we'd had and the experiences we'll never get to share. I think THE HOLLOW ONES captures some of that emotional struggle particularly well. There's comfort in revisiting the past, and sometimes a temptation to stay there a little longer than we should. Potter takes that very human experience and gives it a supernatural twist, allowing the horror to grow out of something most of us can understand. The spiritual themes, the relationship between the brothers and the importance of the family they still have all contribute to that emotional foundation. And for a modest independent horror production, I think that's a meaningful accomplishment. Final Thoughts THE HOLLOW ONES is a solid independent supernatural horror film with a surprising amount of emotional sincerity beneath its eerie Halloween setting. Potter demonstrates a clear understanding of the story he wants to tell, and his attention to the technical aspects of filmmaking helps the production feel cohesive. The cinematography, sound design and performances are consistent strengths, with the young cast providing some of the film's most memorable moments. The familiar cult-horror elements may leave seasoned genre viewers wanting a few more surprises, but there's a thoughtful story here about childhood grief, family and the dangerous appeal of living in the past. What I found particularly rewarding was the film's willingness to explore hope and spirituality within that darkness. There's a meaningful emotional foundation beneath the supernatural events, and knowing Potter's personal inspiration gives the movie an additional layer of authenticity. THE HOLLOW ONES feels very much like a passion project, one that brought a father and his sons together to explore difficult questions about loss through the language of horror. It's worth a look for fans of atmospheric supernatural horror who appreciate character-driven stories with a little emotional weight behind the scares. THE HOLLOW ONES (2026) is a production of Bel Giro Films. The 84-minute feature screened at the Zepstone International Film and Music Festival in September 2026 and is scheduled for a public screening at the Kaysville Theatre in Kaysville, Utah, on October 24, followed by a filmmaker Q&A. The filmmakers are currently pursuing distribution. Official Website: www.thehollowonesmovie.com Watch the Trailer: More Horror reviewed THE HOLLOW ONES from an advance screener. The film's creators supplied additional background for this feature. All critical opinions remain those of the author.

MoreHorror.com Black Mandala has unveiled RISE OF THE RATS, a new British horror-punk feature from director Stephen Roach, and this one looks like it crawled straight out of an ’80s video store with a safety pin through its ear. Drawing inspiration from genre staples like The Lost Boys, A Nightmare on Elm Street, and Gremlins, the film mixes creature horror, dark comedy, punk attitude, and some seriously ugly family history. Roach describes the project as a horror film built around genuine punk energy, with rebellion and personality running through everything from the performances to the visual style. At the center of the story is Kayla Thornhill, a rebellious young punk who travels with her estranged father, Jack, to Ditchfield, the town where he grew up. The trip already carries plenty of emotional baggage, then things get considerably worse when Kayla discovers the town has been overrun by rats. And these are only the beginning. As Kayla digs into Ditchfield’s history, she uncovers rumors surrounding a brutal act of collective violence committed decades earlier. The townspeople buried the truth, yet buried things have a nasty habit of clawing their way back into daylight in horror movies. Enter the Rat Man. The grotesque figure emerges as a physical manifestation of the town’s guilt, violence, abandonment, and unresolved trauma, unleashing hordes of bloodthirsty rats while settling an old score. Kayla soon finds herself facing more than the horrors beneath Ditchfield. She also has to confront her father’s connection to the secret that started everything. That combination gives RISE OF THE RATS a little more meat on the bone than a straightforward creature feature. Killer rats and punk aesthetics already make a good sales pitch, though the idea of a town literally being consumed by the consequences of what it tried to bury gives the whole thing an appropriately grim backbone. The film stars Grace Gallagher, Mark Collier, Tania Staite, Jamie Nowski, Shayli Reagan, Darren Le Fevre, and Adrian Annis. Stephen Roach directs and serves as cinematographer from a script by Robert Howgate, who also produces. Music comes from Karl Casey and Daniel Garavini. RISE OF THE RATS is represented internationally by Black Mandala. We’ll be keeping an eye on this one as more release details crawl out of the walls.

By Seth Metoyer | More Horror There are certain horror games that get the premise right before you even see a second of gameplay, and ScareZone: Haunted Attraction Tycoon is one of those for me. The idea is brutally simple in the best possible way: take an empty warehouse, field, storefront, or soundstage and turn it into a functioning haunted attraction. Build the maze, design the rooms, place the scares, hire the actors, crank up the fog, and then unleash the whole thing on paying customers. Developed by Orlando-based Thoosie Labs, ScareZone is a creative tycoon game built specifically around the haunted-attraction industry. The free demo launches on Steam October 16, with the full game currently planned for Early Access in 2027, and from what I have seen so far, this feels aimed directly at the people who walk through a haunt and immediately start wondering how everything works behind the walls. Build the Haunt From the Ground Up That is probably part of why the concept clicks so quickly. A lot of horror games put you inside the haunted house. ScareZone puts you on the other side of the curtain with the people building the thing. Players start with an empty space and create a walkthrough attraction from scratch, laying out walls, corridors, guest paths, and rooms before filling them with props, lighting, audio, animatronics, and actors. You are essentially designing the rhythm of the experience as much as the physical space itself, deciding where someone should look, when a distraction should happen, and where the real scare should hit. That kind of detail is where this could get dangerously addictive. The game lets you place actor scares and custom animatronics along the route, then experiment with timing and positioning to create scare combinations. You can lure a guest’s attention in one direction and hit them from another, stack environmental effects, build sequences, and keep adjusting until the room works the way you imagined it. Anyone who has spent time in good haunted attractions knows how much of the experience comes down to timing, sight lines, misdirection, sound, and the fraction of a second when somebody realizes they are absolutely screwed. Fog, Air Cannons, Smells, and Other Bad Ideas Then there is the atmosphere side of it. Players can control lighting, ambient audio, fog, air cannons, animatronics, and show-control sequences that sync different effects together. The developers even mention smells, which may be the first time I have seen a game mechanic make me simultaneously curious and slightly concerned about what somebody is going to build with it. Once the attraction opens, the game shifts into the operational side of haunting. Guests start moving through the maze, actors do their thing, and suddenly you are dealing with maintenance, security calls, staffing issues, and the thousand little fires that come with running a live attraction. The goal is to create something scary enough to keep people talking while keeping the business alive season after season. That mixture sounds like the real hook here. ScareZone gives you the fun part of building the nightmare while also forcing you to run the place once the doors open. Anybody who has ever worked around haunted attractions knows the finished maze is only one piece of the machine. Behind it are radios, performers, broken props, exhausted crew members, last-minute fixes, and someone somewhere asking why the fog machine stopped working again. Built by People Who Actually Know Haunts The people making the game seem to understand that world from experience. Thoosie Labs says the team behind ScareZone includes people with decades of experience in the haunt and themed-entertainment industries as performers, designers, and managers. The project also brings in collaborators from within the haunt community, including HauntForm Studios for scare-actor movement and direction, artist Cole Cameron for the key art and iconography, and Dark Chord Audio Productions for original music and audio design. HauntForm Studios used experienced performers and markerless motion capture to help bring authentic scare-actor movement into the game, which is a cool detail by itself. Anyone who has watched a seasoned haunt performer work a room knows there is a physical language to it: the way they hold themselves, the timing of a lunge, the weird sideways movements, the pause before an attack. Those little details can turn a generic monster into something that feels genuinely unsettling. Cole Cameron’s artwork also gives the project a strong old-school Halloween personality, while Dark Chord brings experience creating atmospheric music and sound for actual haunted attractions. The whole project feels connected to people who genuinely live in this corner of horror culture instead of simply borrowing the imagery. “Built by Spooky Humans” The developers also make a point of calling ScareZone a project “built by spooky humans.” According to Thoosie Labs, no generative AI appears in the player-facing elements of the game, including the music, voice work, and 3D models. They do use AI-based development tools for things such as coding and debugging, while the creative material comes from artists, performers, musicians, designers, and other collaborators. I also like that ScareZone includes both career and sandbox modes, because those are going to scratch two completely different horror-brain itches. Career mode lets you build the business and grow the attraction over time, while sandbox gives you the freedom to create some unholy maze without worrying quite as much about whether the accountant survives the season. Walk Through Your Own Nightmare The first-person perspective may end up being one of the most satisfying parts of the whole thing. Building a room from above is one experience. Walking through it at eye level and seeing whether your scare actually works is something else entirely. I can already imagine spending an embarrassing amount of time adjusting one hallway because the monster pops out three feet too early. This is also one of those game ideas that feels strangely overdue. We have management games for theme parks, zoos, hospitals, cities, prisons, restaurants, and just about every other business imaginable, yet the haunted-attraction world has mostly remained background scenery. A full tycoon game built around designing and running haunts makes immediate sense, especially now that the haunt industry has grown into such a massive part of modern Halloween culture. One to Watch This Halloween From what we have seen so far, ScareZone: Haunted Attraction Tycoon looks like it could land with horror gamers, haunt workers, Halloween addicts, and anyone who has ever walked out of a maze thinking they could build something meaner. The free demo launches on Steam October 16, 2026, with Early Access planned for 2027. I’ll definitely be keeping an eye on this one. The idea of building a haunt from the floor up, filling it with actors and animatronics, and then watching guests stumble through the monster you created sounds like exactly the kind of October rabbit hole I could happily disappear into.

Tim Chizmar Interview Delves into Getting Naked Alien Massacre Made By Seth Metoyer | More Horror Some movies begin with financing. Others begin with a screenplay, a producer or somebody saying, “I know a guy with a camera.” Naked Alien Massacre began with something closer to a dare. Writer-director Tim Chizmar spent roughly 17 years trying to bring his bizarre collision of naturism, alien horror, splatter comedy and body-positive filmmaking to the screen. Somewhere along that road, someone told him the idea would never get made. That apparently proved to be the wrong thing to say. After watching the film for our recent More Horror review, one thing became clear pretty quickly: Naked Alien Massacre has considerably more going on beneath the title than you might expect. Yes, there are aliens. Yes, there is blood. There is nudity, practical creature work, gross-out humor and enough midnight-movie DNA to make the whole thing feel like something that wandered out of a forgotten video store at 1:30 in the morning. There is also sincerity. Chizmar approaches naturism from inside the culture rather than treating it as a punchline. The movie uses one of its most ridiculous ideas, aliens who target clothed humans, to turn nudity into a literal survival mechanism. Beneath all the carnage sits a film about body acceptance, vulnerability and the assumptions people carry about naturist communities. The production itself became another story entirely. Chizmar assembled collaborators he has worked with across multiple projects, brought longtime friends into the madness and built a movie whose making has already become the subject of a separate documentary by September Club. We caught up with Chizmar to talk about the 17-year journey, the naturist philosophy behind the film, practical creatures, Cat Prodigy, Clive Barker and why Naked Alien Massacre still belongs on a late-night horror screen somewhere. “I Decided Right Then I’d Get It Made” MORE HORROR: Naked Alien Massacre was a long time coming. You carried this idea for years before finally getting it made. What kept pulling you back to this particular story, and at what point did you realize you had to finally get it into production? TIM CHIZMAR: It was a journey of roughly 17 years, honestly. There are so many mini-stories I could tell you about people who were attached and fell away over the years. One of the driving forces to make it came when I attended a screening for a nudist comedy called Act Naturally. I thought we'd all be supportive peers of each other, so I told them about my idea. Sadly, I was met with some not-so-nice comments and was told my idea would never get made. I was told mine was too much. I decided right then I'd get it made if it was the only goal in my life. Seriously, that would have been my one regret if I didn't get it made. Naturism Without the Exploitation MORE HORROR: One of the things that surprised me most was how sincere the naturist element feels. The film treats nudity as part of everyday life rather than a cheap gimmick. How much of that came directly from your own experience in the naturist community, and what misconceptions about naturism were you hoping the film might challenge? TIM CHIZMAR: I knew that, to appease what I consider true horror fans, I needed shock value and some wild moments, but I was never going to involve sexuality. The biggest misconception about my underrepresented community is that we're all pervy swingers, and that just shows the ignorance people have. I wanted to show that within the community there are all sorts of personalities, but certain things are accepted, such as body positivity and an understanding that we are not sexualizing each other. When we say that, we mean that. I mean that in my art too. When Getting Naked Becomes Survival MORE HORROR: The central idea is beautifully wild: the aliens target people wearing clothes, so getting naked becomes a survival strategy. Where did that concept come from, and did you always know the horror premise would also become part of the film's body-positive message? TIM CHIZMAR: Yes. Always. Since Day One of the screenplay, we had that Predator-inspired visual concept. At one point we had four monsters in the script, and things change based on budgets, locations and everything else, but I always knew that was an original idea I had to see onscreen. The Movie You Write, Shoot, Edit and Eventually Surrender MORE HORROR: The movie moves between creature feature, splatter comedy, naturist celebration and something genuinely heartfelt. How did you approach that tonal balance as a director? TIM CHIZMAR: I just wanted options. I know that, at bare minimum when making movies, there are three: the one you write, the one you shoot and the one you edit. Clive Barker reminded me when I told him that there's also the version the critics interpret, the one the fans feel about it a decade later, and so on. My point is that I just wanted options, and in the editing room we could cut, cut, cut the film into what I hope best served the full arc of the tale. This one matters to me, and I hope that comes across. Building STICKS MORE HORROR: The practical effects give the film a great old-school midnight-movie quality. What were some of the biggest effects challenges on set, and is there one creature, kill or practical gag that best represents the movie you wanted to make? TIM CHIZMAR: As far as effects go, I'm happy with the character of STICKS, who is the taller, longer alien. He was played by Robbie Banks, a dear friend and ultimately an associate producer on the film. His dedication and willingness to trust me and the project meant the world to me. Not everyone involved was a nudist, so to hear me out and buy into something so outlandish really was cool. Building a Tribe Behind the Camera MORE HORROR: The cast really commits to the world you created. What were you looking for when casting Allair, Matt and the larger ensemble, and how did you build the level of trust needed for the nudity, comedy and horror to all work together? TIM CHIZMAR: I've been working on my tribe, my troupe, for years now. My cast have been in the trenches with me on other projects, so they know what I'm about. It's really fun that my folks love the nudity, and we never need an intimacy coordinator because they are happy and thrilled to return to nature in fun, silly and organic ways. My sets are work, but they're fun too. This is why the making of this movie is the subject of another documentary by September Club. Cat Prodigy, Guthrie Lowe and a 3 A.M. Soundtrack MORE HORROR: Music gives the film a lot of personality, from Guthrie Lowe's score to Cat Prodigy's songs and the connection to The Nudels of Nudeland. How did you approach the music, and what did those collaborators bring to the film? TIM CHIZMAR: Cat was always pivotal to me. I love her as a human and an artist. I would listen to her songs in my car at 3 A.M., driving around Las Vegas and crying sometimes when depression hit hardest. I believe in her and her work, and I hope this film gives her a spotlight too. Guthrie is an old workhorse and a trusted member of my team. He takes direction well. The use of my Nudels theme as the ringtone on Matt's phone was an Easter egg to my earlier nudist comedy because, why the hell not? Haha. I own it. We also use an original piece of music from producer Charlie Perkins, which I just adore, as I'm an old modern folk fan from years gone by. It's a great mix, I think. Cat's original song literally has the title of the film in it to mimic that awesome Flashdance movie from the '80s. The Horror Hosts Who Should Probably See This Thing MORE HORROR: Watching the movie, I kept thinking it would have fit perfectly into that old-school Elvira, late-night horror-host universe. If you could choose one dream audience or setting for Naked Alien Massacre, who would you most want to watch it with and why? TIM CHIZMAR: I tried pitching it to Joe Bob and Darcy at The Last Drive-In, but they blew me off. I've talked to them a few times. Darcy most recently at WonderCon when I had mutual friend Chris Jericho on a panel. Anyway, I think it's up their alley since they appreciate Bloodsucking Freaks and I Spit on Your Grave, which are very important to me. Those two and Xtro, I feel, do not get enough love. Seventeen Years Later, the Aliens Finally Landed There is something wonderfully appropriate about Naked Alien Massacre taking nearly two decades to exist. This is a movie built from stubbornness. Somebody told Chizmar the idea was too much. He kept the idea alive anyway. Cast members returned. Friends climbed into alien suits. Musicians contributed pieces of themselves. A community Chizmar cares deeply about became part of a horror film that refuses to treat that community as scenery. And somewhere along the way, the making of the movie became worthy of its own documentary. That might be the most independent-horror thing about the entire story. The final film has aliens hunting clothing, practical monsters stalking naturists, original songs, buckets of blood and an alien named STICKS. Underneath all of it sits the thing Chizmar kept returning to for 17 years: the desire to make this particular movie exactly strange enough that somebody once told him it couldn't exist. Now it does.