If a movie was on the shelf, the chip hung on a hook just below the box. If the chip was gone, that meant the movie was currently rented out.

One of my jobs was walking the aisles after returned movies were checked in, putting the poker chips back where they belonged. It was simple enough work, but there was one thing that always bothered me: Every now and then a film series would be missing one title. I remember a period when our VHS copy of The Empire Strikes Back had been damaged. We still had A New Hope and Return of the Jedi sitting on the shelf, and a replacement copy was already ordered, but it drove me crazy.

There was a gap in the story. The missing Star Wars movie was only temporary, but seeing an incomplete series felt wrong on some irrational level.

That memory came rushing back when I learned about Blind Cop 2. Unlike my old video store shelves, however, this missing installment is not waiting on a replacement shipment. There is no Blind Cop 1. The filmmakers skipped straight to Blind Cop 2, creating a sequel to a movie that never existed.

Blind Cop 2 is directed by Alec Bonk, who co-wrote the film alongside Augustin Huffman and Isaac McKinnon. When an influx of illegal weapons begins flooding the streets, a grieving blind police officer known only as Blind Cop (George Fearing) takes it upon himself to stop the violence before the city descends into chaos.

Armed with razor-sharp instincts, questionable police procedures and an unwavering commitment to justice, Blind Cop wages a one-man war against the criminals responsible.

Things take a turn for the worse when Blind Cop is framed for the murder of a notorious crime boss known as Froglips (Demingo Graham). Stripped of his badge and cast out by the very department he served, he must join forces with his loyal sidekick, Schmidty (Isaac McKinnon), to clear his name and expose the criminal underworld operating in the shadows.

While Blind Cop 2 does not have an actual predecessor for it to follow, it does have a spiritual lineage. In many ways, Blind Cop 2 is a sequel to every bargain-bin action movie that cluttered video store shelves throughout the 1980s and 1990s. The film embraces the era when action heroes were less concerned with due process and more interested in delivering one-liners before throwing bad guys through plate glass windows.

A hero fueled by an intense hatred of crime and operating under a slightly questionable moral compass was not the exception back then. It was the standard.

The filmmakers clearly understand the genre they are parodying. Blind Cop feels like he could have shared the screen with any number of straight-faced action stars from that era. The difference is that everyone involved is fully aware of how ridiculous the premise is. Rather than mocking those films from a distance, Blind Cop 2 lovingly recreates their over-the-top energy, exaggerated characters and logic-defying action sequences while turning the absurdity up several notches.

What surprised me most about Blind Cop 2 was how well it juggles its different styles of humor. One minute it is delivering a joke that makes you laugh because of how wrong it is. The next minute it is throwing logic completely out the window and embracing pure insanity. That balancing act cannot be easy, and there are a few moments where the film stays in one lane a little longer than it should.

Even so, the movie usually knows exactly when to pivot. Just as a joke starts to wear out its welcome, something else comes along that is somehow even more ridiculous. The result is a film that constantly keeps the audience guessing. I never knew what was coming next, but I was almost always entertained when it got there.

Much of the film’s success rests on the shoulders of George Fearing, and thankfully he understands exactly what kind of movie he is in. Rather than treating Blind Cop as a joke, Fearing commits to the character with complete sincerity. He does not simply meet the requirements of the role; he cranks everything up to 11. Every line delivery, every action scene and every absurd moment is performed with the conviction of an actor who believes he is starring in the greatest action movie ever made.

The script certainly gives him plenty to work with, but Fearing elevates the material through sheer commitment. A film like Blind Cop 2 lives or dies based on whether its cast is willing to embrace the absurdity. If the actors hold back or act embarrassed by the premise, the entire thing falls apart. Fearing never makes that mistake. He throws himself headfirst into the madness, and his performance transforms Blind Cop from a funny concept into a genuinely memorable character.

I give Blind Cop 2 five out of five stars. Much like those incomplete movie shelves at Video Quest used to drive me crazy, Blind Cop 2 should not work on paper. It is a sequel to a movie that does not exist, built around a premise that sounds like the punchline to a bad joke. Yet somehow, through sheer commitment, clever writing and a cast that understands exactly what kind of film they are making, it succeeds.

This is not a polished Hollywood blockbuster, nor is it trying to be. Instead, Blind Cop 2 embraces the spirit of the outrageous action films that filled video store shelves throughout the 1980s and 1990s. It delivers laughs, action, memorable characters and just enough chaos to keep the audience guessing what crazy thing will happen next.

If you have a soft spot for cult comedies, larger-than-life action heroes and/or movies that proudly march to the beat of their own drum, Blind Cop 2 is well worth seeking out. Unlike the missing titles that once bothered me at Video Quest, this is one sequel that proves you do not always need the first movie to have a great time.

It’s an ode to the fans who have kept the fringe London production popular for more than 50 years now as it has grown to become a cultural phenomenon. This is Strange Journey: The Story of Rocky Horror.

You may recognize Richard O’Brien from his work as a British stage actor, performing in London during the early ’70s, but his big break came when he decided on a whim to write a little rock ‘n’ roll musical. Originally titled They Came from Denton High and later retitled The Rocky Horror Show, the screenplay incorporated his love for science fiction, horror and B-movies in general.

Originally premiering on a small stage with only one prop (a wooden chair) and a movie screen separating its musicians from the cast, the wickedly satirical play, a combination of high and low art which was new at the time, created an immersive atmosphere. After becoming “the rage of London,” this little theater event was brought to Los Angeles, and a film deal was soon agreed upon. But the fortunes of this rising pop-culture star would soon sink.

“It’s not a movie… it’s a way of life.”

Midnight singalongs have popularized The Rocky Horror Picture Show for years, as shown in Strange Journey. Photo Courtesy: Magenta Light Studios.

This campy, low-budget production with deliberately bad special effects was an homage to Hammer Films’ classic horrors, ultimately flopping at the box office, but would survive ever after via midnight screenings. Breaking all the rules of movie theaters, the showings slowly found an audience not through advertising but word of mouth, as each one sold out.

Fans dressed as their favorite characters with early cosplay creations, bringing in props and an audience participation that took place long before the Minecraft kids and their chicken jockeys…

So, there are b-movies and then there are those releases that don’t even quite qualify for that classification on the big-screen totem pole. The Rocky Horror Show and later The Rocky Horror Picture Show became that type of movie, allowing people to live out their dreams, which continues today.

The cult classic with an actual cult following continues to reenact that same story today as director Linus O’Brien interviews his father, Richard (who also appears as Riff Raff, a character somewhat inspired by Max Schreck’s Count Orlok), about Rocky Horror‘s place in film history, along with many of the original (and big-screen) cast members.

A film by outsiders, for outsiders, promoting confidence and self-courage, everyone involved with its creation is clearly very proud of their work, which lives on through singalongs today along with being known for supporting the growing women’s lib and sexual liberation movements.

“Films either reinforce the status quo or challenge it.”

Strange Journey is incredibly nostalgic, as many of the original cast discuss their personal journeys connected with the stage show and the feature film — just about everyone is included here with the exception of Meat Loaf (who passed away in 2022), although he is fondly remembered. Even superfans like Jack Black and Trixie Mattel are included, proving how Rocky Horror eventually became larger than a film… it was an event.

I have long had an appreciation for Rocky Horror, as I was introduced to a midnight screening during my freshman year in college. I was equally entertained by the big-screen story as the rambunctious fans repeated and responded to the dialogue, while enjoying themselves. The film, itself, has a natural innocence to it, and this documentary is definitely a celebration of its creation.

It’s no wonder Rocky Horror continues as stage productions all around the world and its film adaptation has become the longest-running theatrical release in film history, which is an incredible feat, itself, for a movie about individuality that spoke to an earlier generation that is still relevant today.

Ambiguity was the norm for Rocky Horror, and Strange Journey is no exception. Strange Journey is currently available to rent or own on Digital HD via Apple TV, Fandango at Home and Amazon Prime Video.

“Life is full of contradictions, and so is The Rocky Horror Picture Show.”

Staying alive can be difficult sometimes, and not paying attention to the finer points of warfare could be the difference between life and death. Example A: Kris Hendricks, aka “Voodoo Child” (played by Radha Mitchell). As a retired elite soldier, she and her rebellious teenage daughter, Anja (Annabel Wolfe), seem to be content living in the Australian bush, away from society, but those best laid plans are quickly shot down when a stranger randomly appears on their property.

Masquerading as a developer seeking a plum property purchase, Kris quickly realizes her almost two decades-long cover has finally been blown and action must be quickly taken, as a dangerous warlord sneaks onto the scene. One problem: her daughter is missing!

Calling in a huge favor, she reunites with the remaining members of her former squad of — you guessed it, snipers (hence, the title!) — participating in a bloody battle of cat and mouse. Not all demons of the past are hidden forever and by piecing together the backstory’s details hidden in plain sight, the viewer should be fully prepared before the final battle begins.

“Two is one. One is none. Together, we survive.”

(L to R) Charles Cottier as “Junior,” Damien Ryan as “White Dog” and Pacharo Mzembe
as “Nico” in SEVEN SNIPERS. Photo Courtesy: Well Go USA.

Listed as an action-thriller, the main draw of watching Seven Snipers is the Big Bad, who is played by non-other than Tim Roth! Known as “The Dragon,” this mystery man always seems to be a step ahead of his contemporaries, incorporating more survival skills than all of the squad, combined, but little is known — or shown — about him. How is he so dangerous when the odds are clearly not in his favor?

Tim Roth contributed mightily to my Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction fandom many years ago, and I’ll never forget that. Because of this, I was expecting some mighty tasty scene chewing here… instead, Seven Snipers mostly provides reactionary shots from the headliner. Clocking in at a lean 88 minutes of runtime, this story is light on necessary details (and backstory), while being heavy on the action… which happens to be right up my alley.

The tension mounts as bodies start dropping before Roth even speaks a word but seeing the veteran actor hidden inside a ghillie suit more than makes up for that producer’s oversight. At least for a few minutes. And just like the vague mission briefing provided to these mercenaries hunting down the ghosts of their past, all signs seemingly point to a larger-than-life character.

Unfortunately, as the details of the storyline constantly hint at but never fully explain, The Dragon’s depth is never fully realized, although his power is clearly shown. I kept expecting multiple flashback sequences to fill in the blanks of these characters past lives, only to be teased with a nibble at the film’s conclusion. Underutilized on the screen and severely underdeveloped as a character, Roth’s purpose here seems to be simply selling this script in order for the production to receive the green light. That is terribly disappointing.

While the action is nonstop and the scenery is top notch — blink and you’ll miss the obligatory kangaroo b-roll shot — my main complaint lies with writer Andrew O’Keefe.

Eventually, the vague remnants of the film’s storyline are revealed to be a simple revenge fantasy, and a violent one, at that. While plenty of great movies can be built off simple premises, this one needed more than filler scenes to build a solid foundation.

Minimalistic storytelling shouldn’t be feared while trying to dodge overindulgence or a production budget’s inflation, but not including many opportunities to allow your featured star shine is also a big swing and a miss. And I suppose Roth was only contractually obligated to film a limited number of days, which didn’t include much dialogue.

Bummer.

These details should have been addressed and worked out before any final contracts were signed and the cameras began rolling. Seven Snipers is a misfire for me, but Roth’s ex-military warlord demands a do over… and one with much more dialogue!

“You can’t escape him…”

Looking back, I wouldn’t trade those friendships for anything. At the time, though, high school had a way of making anyone who didn’t fit neatly into a box feel like an outsider.

That feeling of being different is something most of us experience at some point growing up. Whether it is because of our interests, our personalities or simply not fitting in with the crowd around us, being an outsider can be a lonely experience. The Dead Place explores those feelings of isolation through a supernatural lens, blending teenage struggles with horror elements to tell a story about a young man searching for where he belongs.

Isaac (Idris Veliu) is a high school student with the unsettling ability to see dead people. His parents (Aaron Lyons and Suziey Block) love him dearly but are powerless to help him cope with the visions that have made him an outcast. At school, he endures relentless bullying, while at home his younger brother John Jr. (Jake Diaz) treats him with the kind of sarcastic skepticism only a sibling can provide.

Following a family tragedy, Isaac’s world becomes even more complicated when he encounters a mysterious and eccentric figure masquerading as a new student (David Howard Thornton). Unlike the spirits Isaac normally sees, this strange entity seems to have its own agenda, repeatedly taunting him while hinting at a darker force that has taken an interest in him.

One of the biggest draws for horror fans, and the one that caught my attention, is the casting of David Howard Thornton. Best known for bringing Art the Clown to life in the Terrifier franchise, Thornton once again demonstrates his ability to command attention whenever he appears on screen. While his role in The Dead Place is very different from the silent killer that made him famous, there are still moments where his expressions, mannerisms and energy feel exactly the same.

More importantly, Thornton injects life into nearly every scene he appears in. The film spends a considerable amount of time establishing Isaac’s troubled existence, but it is Thornton’s arrival that finally introduces a sense of mystery and unpredictability that had been missing from much of the opening act.

One of the first films that came to mind while watching The Dead Place was The Sixth Sense. Like Cole Sear in that classic thriller, Isaac possesses the ability to see and interact with the dead. Unlike Cole, however, Isaac’s experiences are no secret. His classmates and family know about his visions, making him an easy target for ridicule and bullying. This creates a different kind of isolation, one where Isaac isn’t hiding from the world around him but is instead rejected by it.

The concept gives the film a solid foundation and provides several opportunities to explore how someone might cope with being treated as an outsider because of something they cannot control.

Unfortunately, The Dead Place spends so much time reinforcing these ideas that it often forgets to build upon them. By the midpoint of the film, the audience already understands that Isaac sees disturbing visions, struggles to fit in and lacks a support system capable of helping him. The problem is that the script repeatedly returns to these same points without revealing much new information. Rather than developing its characters, the film frequently feels like it is reminding viewers of things they already know.

What begins as character building eventually starts to feel repetitive, slowing the story’s momentum just as the larger mystery of what is coming for Isaac begins to take shape.

Part of that frustration stems from how much information the film chooses to keep from the audience. Throughout the story, I found myself asking basic questions that never seemed to receive clear answers. Has Isaac always been able to see the dead, or is this a recent development? When did the demonic presence first begin communicating with him? How much of a relationship existed between them before the events of the film?

Mystery can be an effective storytelling tool, but there is a difference between creating intrigue and leaving viewers confused. More than once, I felt as though I had missed a scene that would have provided important context for what was happening on screen.

Ironically, the film becomes far more engaging once it begins embracing its supernatural side. The appearances of the mysterious entity portrayed by David Howard Thornton add a much-needed sense of unease, while the growing influence of darker forces around Isaac raises the stakes considerably. The story is at its strongest when it shifts away from repetitive high-school drama and leans into the horror elements that make its premise unique.

There is an interesting battle for Isaac’s soul unfolding beneath the surface, and I often found myself wishing the film had trusted that conflict to carry more of the narrative weight.

I give The Dead Place three out of five stars. Despite my frustrations with its pacing and repetitive character beats, the film is not without merit. Michael Pickle’s feature debut presents an intriguing premise, and when the story fully embraces its supernatural elements, there are glimpses of a compelling horror tale underneath. David Howard Thornton once again proves why he has become a favorite among horror fans, while Idris Veliu does a respectable job carrying the emotional weight of Isaac’s journey.

Like many of the socially awkward kids I knew growing up, The Dead Place sometimes struggles to find its place. It has plenty of interesting ideas and a unique perspective on isolation and trauma, but it doesn’t always know how to develop those ideas beyond their initial introduction.

There is enough here for horror fans to appreciate, particularly those who enjoy slower, character-driven supernatural stories, but I couldn’t help feeling that the film had the potential to be something stronger.

Behind every compromised account is usually somebody angry, scared, embarrassed or desperately trying to figure out how their life got flipped upside down so quickly.

That very modern fear sits at the center of Hacked: A Double Entendre of Rage Fueled Karma, a darkly comedic revenge horror film that takes the nightmare of digital theft and turns it into a chaotic mission of payback. And it does so in some absurd ways.

Hacked is a horror comedy written, directed and produced by Shane Brady. Loosely based on true events, the film follows the Rumble family during the height of the COVID pandemic. Mark (Brady) and Amy (Augie Duke) work tirelessly to save up $20,000 for the down payment on their dream home.

Unfortunately, those dreams quickly turn into a nightmare when their sons Ralph (Owen Atlas) and Freddy (Collin Thompson) accidentally draw the attention of a cybercriminal known only as The Chameleon (Chandler Riggs).

Using deception and manipulation, The Chameleon tricks the family into wiring away the money they spent years trying to save, leaving them on the verge of losing everything. With the authorities offering little help, the brothers eventually team up with CIA agent Kate (Katelyn Nacon) to track down the hacker and take justice into their own hands.

The film opens by proudly claiming that “about 10 percent” of the story is actually true. Back in 2021, Shane Brady and Emily Zercher were reportedly hacked and lost $20,000, which became the real-world inspiration for the movie. Everything that follows is essentially Brady’s exaggerated fantasy of what he wishes could have happened after the theft.

According to an interview with Variety, the bank was able to provide the hacker’s full name and home address, proving this criminal was apparently not very good at being anonymous. After spending what felt like an eternity on hold with the FBI, Brady joked that he started thinking it would be faster to just handle the situation himself with a machete.

And just like that, the “double entendre” part of the title suddenly makes a whole lot more sense.

Hacked: A Double Entendre of Rage Fueled Karma takes its absurdity level and cranks it all the way up to 11. What starts as a grounded fear about financial theft quickly spirals into a chaotic, silly revenge story packed with over-the-top characters, wild decisions and enough dark humor to keep the movie stupidly fun.

At times, the film feels less like a traditional horror comedy and more like a live-action show on Adult Swim or one of those bizarre live-action shows that used to constantly air on Nickelodeon back in the ’80s and ’90s. The characters are exaggerated (we even get Santa Claus making an appearance for some reason), the humor bounces wildly from scene to scene and the entire movie operates with this chaotic energy that somehow keeps it entertaining, even when it completely flies off the reality train. 

The final 30 minutes are where the film fully shifts into horror territory as the “Wheel of Torture” makes its appearance. The entire sequence feels like somebody threw the Hostel franchise and Funny Games into a blender before adding a heavy dose of sketch comedy. The torture methods become increasingly ridiculous and extreme, ranging from hot sauce being poured directly into The Chameleon’s eyes to tattooing penises all over his body, along with one particularly nasty use of a cheese grater that made me physically recoil in my chair.

And somehow, because this movie has absolutely no interest in behaving like a normal film, every time The Chameleon dies, Santa Claus uses his powers and resurrects him. That is a sentence I genuinely never expected to write in a movie review, but here we are.

Oddly enough, despite how brutal some of these moments sound on paper, most of them are played with such absurd energy that the reality of the violence almost disappears. There were definitely a few moments that made me cringe, but I laughed far more often than I squirmed. The movie becomes so cartoonishly over the top during these scenes that it stops feeling mean spirited and instead turns into pure chaotic insanity that I totally dug.

I give Hacked: A Double Entendre of Rage Fueled Karma five out of five stars. No, this is not the greatest movie ever made, and no, it is probably not going to be taking home any Academy Awards anytime soon. But sometimes a movie does not need to be prestige cinema to be entertaining. Sometimes you just want to watch a chaotic revenge story where a cybercriminal gets hunted down by angry victims, Santa Claus appears to help with the torture and absolutely every ounce of logic gets thrown directly out the window.

This movie understands exactly what it is and fully commits to the insanity from beginning to end.

As somebody who works in cybersecurity every single day, I spend a lot of time dealing with the very real stress, fear and frustration that comes with online scams and digital theft. Hacked takes those very real anxieties and turns them into something weirdly therapeutic and completely ridiculous. Thankfully, most people do not get revenge fantasies involving machetes, torture wheels and Saint Nick after being hacked.

But after sitting through enough security incidents and hearing enough stories from frustrated victims over the years, I can absolutely understand why somebody would dream about it.

It felt obvious to me, at the time. You’ve got this tiny green baby alien with big eyes, like a puppy. Instantly there were plushies, life-size toys and t-shirts emblazoned with “The Child” on them. It was the kind of character designed in a boardroom to sell backpacks, coffee mugs and probably McDonald’s happy meals.

And honestly? I rolled my eyes a little at the thought.

Then somehow, against my better judgment, I got attached to the little chaos goblin.

Maybe it was the way he waddles around the galaxy pressing buttons he absolutely should not press. Maybe it was watching this hardened bounty hunter slowly turn into the galaxy’s most exhausted space dad and feeling that connection. Or maybe it was because Grogu acts exactly like every toddler who ever walked (or crawled) on God’s green Earth… if that toddler also had the ability to use The Force and casually steal someone’s lunch in the middle of a firefight.

Whatever the reason, somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing Grogu as a marketing gimmick and started seeing him as the emotional core of the modern Star Wars, which is wild, considering half the time he is either committing minor crimes, eating random creatures whole or making Din Djarin question every life decision that led him to this point.

Last weekend I took my daughter and fiancée to see Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu, the latest chapter in the ever-expanding Star Wars Universe. Directed and co-written by Jon Favreau, the film picks up after the events of The Mandalorian series and follows Din Djarin (Pedro Pascal) and Grogu as they take on a new mission for the New Republic.

Their assignment is to track down Commander Coin, a former Imperial officer now leading a dangerous warband somewhere in the Outer Rim.

The problem is nobody seems to know where Coin is hiding, or even what he currently looks like. In an effort to get information, Commander Ward (Sigourney Weaver) brokers a deal with the Hutt Twins. In exchange for intelligence on Coin’s whereabouts, Din agrees to rescue Rotta the Hutt (Jeremy Allen White), the son of Jabba, and return him safely to Nal Hutta.

Things quickly become more complicated when Din and Grogu discover that Rotta is not exactly being held prisoner. Instead, he has embraced life as a gladiatorial fighter, working for a ruthless salt trader named Janu (Jonny Coyne). With few options left, Din must somehow convince Rotta to abandon the life he has chosen and return home.

Of course, this being Star Wars, there are larger schemes unfolding behind the scenes, and the true intentions of the Hutt Twins may be far more dangerous than anyone realizes.

One of the things I appreciated most about The Mandalorian and Grogu was how easy the story was to follow. Modern franchise films sometimes feel like you need an Excel spreadsheet and six seasons of homework just to understand what is happening, but this movie does a solid job of keeping things accessible. Even though it continues the story from The Mandalorian, it quickly gets viewers up to speed without drowning them in exposition.

My daughter has only seen small pieces of the show, yet after the short opening text she had no problem understanding the plot, the characters or what the mission was. That says a lot about how well the screenplay is structured. At its core, this is a simple adventure story about Din and Grogu trying to complete a mission that slowly becomes more complicated, and the film keeps its focus there instead of getting buried under Star Wars lore and continuity overload.

Of course, a huge part of the charm of The Mandalorian and Grogu comes from the incredible practical effects work used to bring Grogu and the four Anzellans to life. I really appreciated that the majority of their scenes rely on physical puppets operated by an obviously talented crew of puppeteers instead of turning everything into a CGI cartoon.

The movie still uses digital effects when it makes sense, especially during some of the larger action scenes, but it never feels overly dependent on them.

You can absolutely tell at times when Grogu or the Anzellans are moving like puppets, and that is part of the appeal for me. There is a certain charm and personality that practical creatures bring to the screen that pure CGI still struggles to replicate.

For those of us who grew up loving the practical effects of the original Star Wars trilogy, it adds a strong sense of nostalgia and makes the galaxy feel more tangible and lived in.

On the negative side, The Mandalorian and Grogu does start to drag a bit in the middle section. As much as I appreciated the straightforward and easy-to-follow story, there are moments where the movie feels like it is adding extra twists and detours simply to stretch out the runtime.

One of the major plotlines introduced early on actually wraps up much faster than I expected, and the resolution feels surprisingly anticlimactic, considering how much buildup the film gives it.

Because that storyline concludes relatively early, the movie spends part of its middle section trying to refill that narrative momentum with additional complications that do not always feel necessary. It never completely loses me, mostly because Din and Grogu remain entertaining enough to carry weaker scenes, but there were definitely stretches where it felt like the film was searching for a second gear after resolving one of its stronger hooks too soon.

I give The Mandalorian and Grogu four out of five stars.

Even with some pacing issues in the middle and a storyline that wraps up a little too quickly, the film still captures something Star Wars has occasionally struggled with lately: fun. It feels like a genuine space adventure again, packed with exciting action, strong practical effects and plenty of heart between Din and Grogu.

More importantly, it reminded me why I became attached to these characters in the first place. I originally expected Grogu to be little more than a marketing gimmick, but somewhere along the way this Temu Yoda became the emotional center of modern Star Wars.

Watching Din Djarin continue his journey as the galaxy’s coolest adoptive father is still surprisingly entertaining, and honestly, I am perfectly fine spending more time in this corner of the galaxy far, far away.

As someone who lived through the fighting game’s fad and peak years of pop-culture influence, it’s safe to say that the franchise has been through a lot. From indie underdogs to overnight millionaires and later political pariahs, there’s no way the developers at Midway Games could have foreseen their creation prospering for 34 years and through 2026, four big-screen adaptations.

Ed Boob and John Tobias didn’t create the Beat ‘Em Up, Hack and Slash or Fighting Game genres, but they pretty much perfected them. Following the release of Street Fighter II in 1991 en route to becoming the best-selling arcade game of that year, MK dodged the anime-like cartoonish style of its predecessor and adopted the photo-realistic digitized sprites that made each and every over-the-top move feel brutally in your face. Yes, there was blood and gore, which was groundbreaking at the time. The graphics had never looked so great in an arcade cabinet before. But the biggest draw was lining up behind others to compete for that expected Fatality and ending their suffering (until another competitor stepped up).

Back then, there was no internet used to look up cheat codes, you had to experience the game firsthand in trying to remember the characters’ moves and perfectly time their execution in order to taste success. There were also secret characters to unlock as well as Easter Eggs to find, if you were observant. It was the Wild West for video games, for sure.

In trying to capture lightning twice, Mortal Kombat II was released without delay. New characters were added. More gore splattered everywhere and more money was made at the arcades. And when the original game was released onto home consoles, its violence spawned the ESRB (Entertainment Software Rating Board), which created ratings for video games. Yet another groundbreaking creation from the franchise.

As its popularity grew, the outreach of MK onto pop culture kept growing. Comics, novels, soundtracks and there were even live-action performances, but my favorite release of the franchise was its first big-screen adaptation. Premiering in 1995 and distributed by New Line Cinema, the film mostly followed the events of the original game, along with elements of the second one.

From the very beginning, my favorite characters to play MK have been Liu Kang and Raiden, mostly because their moves weren’t the most complicated, and their animations were always fun to behold. Christopher Lambert’s performance as the guardian of Earthrealm is far and away the best acting of all the films, which says a lot about their quality. The special effects of the first film weren’t the greatest, but they passed for a PG-13 fantasy film.

Originally, I had high hopes for Mortal Kombat: Annihilation, but the sequel, which released two years later, felt like a cheesy version of the later editions of the franchise, which I’d already moved away from. For the most part, my interest in the franchise faded as other hobbies occupied my time, but I’d heard good things about the Warner Bros. reboot of 2021. I never caught it at the movie theaters, but I was interested in seeing a modern-day take of the video game.

Nostalgia finally kicked in with the expected release of Mortal Kombat II and for the last two weeks, I’ve been voraciously devouring so many MK releases. Lots of YouTube videos chronicled behind-the-scenes drama from the franchise that I never knew, and I finally watched the 2021 movie, which I liked, but I didn’t appreciate a new main character (Cole Young) pulling you into the events of the fighting tournament that was never present in any of the games. Clearly, this wasn’t a faithful adaptation, but it did present an introduction to the IP from an outsider’s perspective (the original film felt like it was created for already-established fanboys and fangirls).

After watching that, I ventured to the DTV animated fare, which can currently be found on HBO Max. First up was Mortal Kombat Legends: Scorpion’s Revenge. This R-rated gorefest follows the titular character escaping death and getting resurrected in the Netherrealm in order avenge the murder of his family. This movie was decent and I appreciated the use of 14 of the franchise’s main characters.

Next up was Mortal Kombat Legends: Snow Blind, which creates a new backstory for Sub-Zero. Long after Shao Khan’s defeat in the MK tournament, Earthrealm has turned into a barren wasteland filled with Zombies. No longer using his powers, Sub-Zero is now a simple farmer until King Kano’s tyrannical rule pushes him over the edge. Even though I watched this one out of order, its creativity interested me the most while veering far from the source material.

Mortal Kombat Legends: Battle of the Realms felt like the most loyal of the animated releases to their video-game origins. As warriors are chosen for the Outworld tourney, Earthrealm’s fate lies in the balance. The Elder Gods play pivotal roles in its outcome, which have been overlooked in many other adaptations. I enjoyed seeing them here.

My final animated viewing entry was Mortal Kombat Legends: Cage Match, which served as a prequel story for Johnny Cage, a bloviated B-movie actor with a specialty in martial arts and self-importance who bites off more than he can chew in a conspiracy with a movie producer (Rest In Peace, Gilbert Gottfried, in his final acting role) who provides more than meets the eye to Cage’s Hollywood prospects. Honestly, a little bit of Johnny Cage goes a long way. I stopped watching midway through the film because the character is just too grating. Any other character would have been a better selection for a backstory other than him.

Now in its second week of wide release at movie theaters, I haven’t seen the live-action MK sequel just yet (I plan to see it by the time awards season returns), but from what I’ve read, Cole Young is no longer a main character, which is a step in the right direction. And a washed-up Johnny Cage has been invited to join the chaos, which might not be my favorite character of the bunch, although the character is played by Karl Urban…

According to Deadline, Mortal Kombat II has accumulated $101.2 million at the global box office ($62.2M domestic and $39M int’l), making it the second highest grossing film of the franchise so far. That’s the good news. But it never notched the No. 1 spot at the U.S. box office, and it seems to be falling quickly, in terms of the amount of money it’s making — that’s the bad news. With a reported $80 million budget (and another estimated $80 million in marketing costs), it hasn’t broken even just yet, but that moment could be coming soon. Or, it might not.

The longevity of Mortal Kombat continues into the 21st century and I’ve enjoyed catching up on the past releases which I previously missed. I’m not exactly sure what will happen to the franchise in the near future, as the video game canon has now been rebooted and I simply can’t keep up with what has officially happened within the franchise and what is simply a multiverse story. But I can catch up on the films the easiest, which I’ve enjoyed the most.

Looking forward to discovering the results of Mortal Kombat II in the near future!

A few years ago, during the offseason, I worked for Nashville Nightmare creating queue line audio. The best computer in the building was located inside the attraction’s main control room, which had been designed to look like an old funeral home, so naturally, that became my office.

One afternoon, the other builders headed out to eat while I stayed behind working. At some point, I stepped out to use the restroom, not realizing they had forgotten to disable some of the attraction’s motion sensors. Suddenly, animatronics started firing off around me in completely dark rooms. Props lunged out of the darkness while loud audio cues echoed through the attraction. I am not exaggerating when I say it scared the absolute life out of me (and removed the need to find said restroom).

That same uncomfortable feeling of being trapped alone in a funeral-home setting is exactly what The Mortuary Assistant taps into.

The Mortuary Assistant is a supernatural horror film directed by Jeremiah Kipp and written by Tracee Beebe and Brian Clarke, the latter also being the creator of the video game the film is based on. The story follows Rebecca (Willa Holland), a recovering drug addict who takes a job at a mortuary under the supervision of Raymond (Paul Sparks).

What starts as an easy overnight shift quickly spirals into something far more terrifying when Rebecca begins experiencing horrifying visions, strange entities and increasingly disturbing hallucinations. After Raymond calls to explain that demonic forces are at work inside the mortuary, Rebecca is forced into a terrifying fight to survive the night and stop whatever evil is trying to escape into the world.

What I liked most about The Mortuary Assistant is how effectively it taps into that universal feeling of being alone somewhere at night and suddenly becoming aware of every odd sound or movement around you. It does not matter if a place feels perfectly normal during the day. Once the lights go down and you are by yourself, your brain starts turning every creak, shadow and strange noise into something sinister.

The film understands that kind of fear extremely well. A mortuary is already an unsettling location to begin with, but the movie takes that natural discomfort and slowly cranks it up until even the quiet moments feel nerve wracking. It constantly plays with the idea that maybe what Rebecca is seeing is real, or maybe exhaustion and fear are making her spiral, and that uncertainty keeps the tension high throughout the film.

I would like to say there is more that I enjoyed about The Mortuary Assistant, but unfortunately this is where the film stumbles. Willa Holland is a very capable actress, and you can tell she is trying to carry the material, but the script gives her very little room to do much beyond reacting to whatever nightmare scenario gets thrown at her next. Instead of building Rebecca into a fully realized character, the film keeps her trapped in a cycle of visions, instructions and exposition dumps.

The scares also never really land the way strong horror films need them to. There are creepy visuals and loud moments, but very few scenes that genuinely stick with you after they happen. A lot of that comes from the story feeling incredibly disjointed. The movie seems obsessed with recreating the structure and progression of the original game, but what works interactively in a video game does not always translate well into a film.

Video games naturally rely on repetition, trial and error, and completing stages to move forward. In the game, failure matters because the player can die, restart and feel the pressure of making the wrong choice. The movie, however, has to keep Rebecca moving forward no matter what happens, which removes much of the dread and sense of consequence.

Instead of building tension naturally, the film often feels like it is simply guiding the audience from one recognizable game-inspired sequence to the next.

There is also an ongoing subplot involving Rebecca’s dead father appearing to torment her, despite having died years before the events of the film. The movie eventually explains this as the form chosen by the demonic entity, but it never develops into anything particularly meaningful beyond giving the audience more hallucination scenes.

Rather than adding emotional weight, it mostly feels like another horror trope layered on top of an already overcrowded story.

I give The Mortuary Assistant two out of five stars. There are moments where the film absolutely understands the type of fear it wants to create. The isolated mortuary setting works, making an atmosphere that can be genuinely uncomfortable at times. It taps into that universal feeling of being alone somewhere after hours and suddenly questioning every sound you hear.

Unfortunately, strong atmosphere can only carry a horror film so far. Weak scares, a disjointed story and an overreliance on recreating the structure of the video game keep the movie from ever becoming as terrifying as it clearly wants to be.

It is disappointing, as there is the foundation for something creepy is absolutely there. I know firsthand how unsettling it can feel walking through a fake funeral home attraction when things unexpectedly start coming to life around you. The problem is, when that happened to me at Nashville Nightmare, it scared the absolute life out of me.

When it happens in The Mortuary Assistant, it mostly just feels like another scripted sequence waiting for the next one to begin.

That is the strange magic of survival stories. Most of us like to believe we would somehow become tougher, smarter and more resourceful the second a disaster strikes.

In reality, a lot of people would probably become sunburned, dehydrated and emotionally defeated within the first few hours. Send Help understands that idea perfectly, mixing survival tension with the kind of human frustration that comes from being trapped in a bad situation with somebody you already could not stand before everything went wrong.

Send Help is a survival horror-comedy from acclaimed director Sam Raimi, written by Damian Shannon and Mark Swift. The film follows Linda Liddle (portrayed by Rachel McAdams), a socially awkward but highly capable corporate strategist who has spent years believing she is finally on the verge of the promotion she deserves. Unfortunately for Linda, the company’s new CEO Bradley Preston (Dylan O’Brien) decides to hand the position to Donovan (Xavier Samuel), largely because the two were frat brothers.

After Linda confronts Bradley about the decision, she ends up joining him and several coworkers on a business trip to Bangkok.

Things go horribly wrong when their flight suffers catastrophic engine failure and crashes into the ocean. Linda and a severely injured Bradley emerge as the only survivors, stranded on a remote island with little hope of immediate rescue. Ironically, Linda’s years of obsessively watching and preparing to be a contestant for Survivor become the only reason either of them stands a chance of staying alive.

As the days drag on, the pair are forced to rely on each other despite their growing resentment, clashing personalities and the uncomfortable reality that survival may depend just as much on trust as it does skill.

Honestly, if this movie did not have Sam Raimi attached to it, Send Help probably would have landed in the “I’ll catch it eventually” category. A survival comedy about two coworkers stranded on an island sounds entertaining enough, but Raimi’s involvement immediately turned it into a must watch. I have been a fan of his work for years, going all the way back to The Evil Dead and the absolute chaos of Army of Darkness, all the way through his massively influential Spider-Man films.

Raimi has always had a unique ability to balance horror, comedy, tension and over-the-top absurdity in a way that somehow still feels grounded. Even when his movies get ridiculous, there is an energy and personality behind them that makes them impossible to ignore. So, the second I saw his name attached to this project, my interest level immediately shot through the roof.

A lot of that emotional push and pull comes from Linda, herself, and I honestly had a complete love-hate relationship with the character throughout the film. There were moments where I was absolutely rooting for her because just about everyone has dealt with an overbearing boss at some point in their life and fantasized about seeing them knocked down a peg or two. Early on, Bradley is exactly the kind of corporate nightmare that immediately makes you side with Linda.

At the same time, Linda does not exactly help herself during the opening portions of the movie. She is awkward, passive and so weak willed at times that it becomes frustrating to watch her constantly fold under pressure.

Somewhere around the middle of the film, things started shifting again. As Linda becomes more confident and capable, Bradley slowly starts showing cracks beneath the arrogant exterior, and suddenly I found myself weirdly sympathetic toward him too.

By the final act, my loyalties were bouncing back and forth between the two characters almost scene by scene. It created this strange emotional roller coaster where I never fully settled on whose side I was actually on, which honestly made the film a lot more engaging.

My biggest issue with Send Help is also something that longtime fans of Sam Raimi will probably immediately recognize as part of his style. Raimi has always loved bouncing back and forth between horror and comedy, sometimes within the exact same scene. You can see it all the way back in Evil Dead II, where terrifying moments suddenly become absurdly funny seconds later.

In Send Help, that tonal whiplash works more often than it does not, but there are still a few moments where the shift feels a little too abrupt. A tense survival sequence will suddenly turn comedic, or a joke will land right before the movie wants you to feel genuine danger again.

For Raimi fans, that chaotic energy is probably part of the charm, but for others it may feel a bit uneven at times. I also think the middle portion of the film drags slightly once the initial survival setup is established, occasionally revisiting the same emotional conflicts a few too many times before pushing the story forward.

I give Send Help five out of five stars. This is exactly the kind of movie that reminds me why I love seeing filmmakers like Sam Raimi still getting the chance to make weird, energetic, personality-driven films. It balances survival tension, dark comedy, uncomfortable workplace dynamics and character drama in a way that constantly kept me engaged, even during the moments where the tonal shifts became a little chaotic.

Rachel McAdams and Dylan O’Brien both do a fantastic job carrying the movie, especially since so much of it depends entirely on their chemistry and the audience constantly changing opinions on both characters.

More than anything, though, Send Help reminded me of all those years I spent sitting on my couch thinking I could somehow dominate Survivor despite being physically held together by caffeine and stubbornness. The movie knows that survival is not just about strength or intelligence. Sometimes it is about personality clashes, panic, resentment, ego and figuring out how to work with somebody you already disliked before everything went wrong, which is life in a nutshell.

And honestly, after watching this movie, I am even more convinced that if I ever ended up stranded on an island, my greatest survival skill would probably just be yelling for help louder than everyone else.

If you spend enough time in a bar, you realize everyone there has a story. One night, I got into a conversation with an older gentleman about regrets. He told me about losing his wife to cancer, about all the plans they never got to live out. It was heartbreaking in a quiet, honest kind of way. And after all of it, he just shrugged and said, “All I can do is keep on keeping on.”

No big speech. No dramatic ending. Just the truth. That same kind of quiet, reflective honesty is exactly what The Last One for the Road taps into.

Childhood friends Carlobianchi (Sergio Romano) and Doriano (Pierpaolo Capovilla) have spent most of their lives running small-time scams, drifting from one opportunity to the next without much thought for the future. After a stop at a roadhouse, their paths cross with a group of university students out for a night of partying, and the two quickly insert themselves into the mix.

Among the group is Giulio (Filippo Scotti), a shy and reserved student who seems completely out of place compared to the louder personalities around him. For reasons that aren’t entirely clear at first, Carlobianchi and Doriano take a liking to him and invite him along as they continue their night.

What follows is less about a traditional plot and more about a series of loosely connected misadventures, where conversations and small moments carry more weight than any grand event. As the trio moves from place to place, Giulio begins to see past the surface of his new companions, uncovering the regrets, contradictions and hard truths that define who they really are.

At the same time, their influence begins to chip away at Giulio’s own insecurities, forcing him to confront parts of himself he’s kept subdued. By the end, what started as a random encounter turns into something far more meaningful, quietly reshaping how Giulio sees his life and the path ahead.

One of the biggest strengths of The Last One for the Road is how relatable it feels. At some point, almost everyone has found themselves in a conversation that starts off casually and slowly drifts into something deeper and more honest than expected. The film taps into that universal experience in a way that feels natural, instead of forced. Even when the story, itself, feels minimal, that sense of familiarity keeps you engaged because it reminds you of your own late-night talks and the moments that stuck with you long after they ended.

The performances are what make all of this work. In a film that relies so heavily on dialogue and character interaction, there is nowhere for the actors to hide. If they miss the mark, the entire thing falls apart. Thankfully, the cast delivers in a way that feels grounded and authentic. Nothing feels overly rehearsed or exaggerated. Instead, the characters come across like real people, the kind you might actually sit next to at a bar and end up talking with for hours.

Atmosphere does a lot of the heavy lifting, as well. The lighting, framing and pacing all come together to create that feeling where everything slows down just enough for conversations to linger. There is a slightly surreal quality to it, like time is stretching out in a way that makes even small moments feel significant. The Last One for the Road pulls you into its world and helps give weight to scenes that might otherwise feel quiet or uneventful.

The biggest issue with The Last One for the Road is its lack of structure. This is very much a “go with the flow” kind of film, which works in short bursts but starts to wear thin as it goes on. The story doesn’t really build toward anything concrete, and at times it feels like it’s just drifting from one moment to the next without a clear sense of direction. That can make it hard to stay fully invested, especially if you’re someone who likes a bit more narrative momentum.

There are stretches where it almost feels like you’re watching a collection of scenes rather than a fully formed story. While that loose approach fits the film’s themes, it also makes certain moments feel less impactful than they should. Without a stronger structure to guide it, some of the emotional beats don’t land as hard as they should, and by the time the film wraps up, it can leave you feeling like you experienced something interesting, but not necessarily something complete.

I give The Last One for the Road four out of five stars.

Despite its loose structure, I really felt like I was along for the ride with these guys, drifting from one conversation to the next and taking in everything that came with it. It’s not a film that rushes you or tries to force big moments. It just lets things happen. And in a way, it took me right back to those nights I mentioned earlier. Sitting in a bar, talking with someone you barely know and somehow walking away with something that sticks. No big takeaway. No perfectly wrapped ending. Just the experience.

And like that older gentleman told me back in 2019, sometimes all you can do is keep on keeping on.