Urban legends have long been a fertile ground for horror films, turning whispered myths into cinematic nightmares. From Candyman to Bloody Mary, these tales often hinge on the idea that saying the wrong name, at the wrong time, in the wrong place can invite something malevolent into our world. Queen of Spades (2021), directed by Patrick White, attempts to tap into that same vein of supernatural horror, drawing from a well-known Russian urban legend. The Queen of Spades is said to be a vengeful spirit who can be summoned through a ritual involving a mirror, much like Bloody Mary, but with far deadlier consequences. The film takes this chilling folklore and brings it to life, placing a group of unsuspecting teenagers in the path of the relentless entity.
The story follows a group of friends who, in typical horror fashion, stumble upon the ritual to summon the Queen of Spades and decide to test the legend for themselves. What starts as a seemingly harmless game quickly spirals into terror as the entity begins to hunt them down, picking them off one by one. Drawing clear inspiration from The Ring, Ouija, and other supernatural horror films centered around cursed rituals, Queen of Spades strives to deliver an eerie atmosphere, supernatural tension, and a vengeful ghost story. But does it succeed in adapting the chilling Russian legend into a gripping modern horror film, or is it simply a forgettable rehash of familiar tropes?
Horror Elements
One of Queen of Spades’ strongest elements is its foundation in folklore-based horror, drawing from the eerie Russian legend to create a sense of ritualistic dread. The film effectively sets up the summoning process, making the supernatural threat feel tangible and inevitable, much like the urban legends surrounding Bloody Mary or The Ring. By grounding the horror in a well-established myth, the story gains an extra layer of authenticity, as if the events could unfold in real life under the right (or wrong) circumstances.
Despite its limited budget, the film successfully cultivates a creepy atmosphere through dim lighting, eerie shadows, and unsettling reflections, using visual tricks to heighten the sense of paranoia and dread. The cinematography leans heavily on darkness, flickering lights, and confined spaces to create an oppressive mood, making every hallway, mirror, or shadowed corner feel like a potential gateway for the supernatural. The abandoned or dimly lit locations serve as perfect backdrops for supernatural encounters, reinforcing the feeling that the characters are never truly safe. The use of reflections is particularly effective, playing into the film’s theme of the Queen of Spades as a lurking, omnipresent force that can manifest at any time.
The film also employs sound design to enhance its eerie tone, with whispering voices, distant echoes, and sudden distortions that make the environment feel alive with unseen horrors. Subtle background noises add to the tension, creating the unsettling impression that something is always watching, even when nothing appears on screen. Moments of silence are used strategically, building anticipation before a scare, rather than relying solely on loud, jarring jump scares.
Additionally, the use of practical effects and minimal CGI helps maintain a sense of realism, ensuring that the horror feels tangible rather than overly stylized. The Queen of Spades herself is often hidden in the periphery, appearing in quick glimpses rather than being overexposed, which adds to the film’s psychological horror elements. By keeping the entity’s presence unpredictable, the film sustains a lingering sense of fear, making even mundane objects—like a mirror or a shadowed doorway—feel threatening. These atmospheric choices elevate the tension and contribute to the film’s most effective horror moments, demonstrating that even with a smaller budget, a well-crafted atmosphere can go a long way in creating genuine unease.
While the film doesn’t break new ground in terms of scares, it does manage to deliver a few effective moments, particularly those involving mirrors and the entity’s sudden, unpredictable appearances. The use of reflections as a medium for horror adds to the film’s unsettling nature, creating a sense of disorientation and fear that lingers even in quieter scenes. Though the film may not be packed with relentless jump scares, its eerie visuals and suspenseful moments contribute to an atmosphere that fans of supernatural horror will likely appreciate.
Movie Elements
While Queen of Spades has a solid foundation in Russian folklore, its execution suffers from a lack of originality, making it feel like a retread of other, more effective supernatural horror films. The plot follows a familiar and predictable structure—reckless teenagers perform a ritual, unleash a vengeful entity, and desperately try to reverse their mistake as the body count rises. This well-worn formula, reminiscent of The Ring and Ouija, lacks fresh twists or unique storytelling elements to set it apart. The film leans heavily on genre conventions without subverting or expanding them in any meaningful way, making the story feel more like an imitation than a new take on the legend.
Compounding this issue is weak character development, as the protagonists feel like generic horror archetypes rather than fully realized individuals. The film doesn’t invest much time in making the audience care about the characters beyond their roles as inevitable victims. Their relationships and personalities remain shallow, offering little in the way of emotional stakes or personal struggles that might make their impending doom more impactful. Because of this, when the horror elements kick in, there’s a noticeable lack of tension—without compelling characters to root for, the scares become just a series of expected beats rather than moments of genuine suspense.
The acting in Queen of Spades (2021) is serviceable but ultimately unremarkable, with performances that fail to elevate the film beyond its predictable horror framework. The young cast, while competent, struggles to bring depth to their characters due to the script’s lack of development. Many of the protagonists fall into generic horror archetypes—the rebellious teen, the skeptic, the frightened believer—without much nuance or individuality. Because of this, their performances often feel flat, making it difficult for the audience to emotionally invest in their fates.
Lead performances do offer moments of genuine fear, particularly in the film’s more intense sequences, but these moments are inconsistent. Some scenes feature convincing expressions of terror, while others feel more forced or exaggerated, diminishing the overall impact. The lack of chemistry between the main characters also weakens the film’s emotional core, as their relationships feel underdeveloped and rushed. Without strong interpersonal dynamics, the stakes never feel as high as they should, making their inevitable confrontations with the supernatural entity less compelling.
The supporting cast fares slightly better, particularly in roles that lean into the film’s eerie atmosphere. Any adult characters, especially those tied to the legend or exposition-heavy moments, bring a sense of mystery and intrigue, though they often feel underutilized. The Queen of Spades herself, though mostly relying on physical presence and eerie movements rather than traditional acting, is effectively unsettling, adding to the film’s best horror moments. However, without standout performances or emotionally resonant characters, the acting in Queen of Spades does little to distinguish it from other mid-tier supernatural horror films.
Even the film’s execution of horror elements, which should have been its strongest asset, feels uninspired. Many of the scares are heavily telegraphed, following a predictable rhythm that makes them easy to see coming. The film also struggles with pacing, failing to build and sustain an atmosphere of dread. Instead, it rushes through character moments while dragging out less effective suspense sequences, leading to a disjointed feel. Without a strong hook, a well-developed antagonist, or a fresh take on its folklore-based premise, Queen of Spades ultimately becomes another forgettable entry in the supernatural horror genre. Despite the rich mythology behind its legend, the film fails to capitalize on its potential, offering little more than a formulaic and uninspired experience.
Conclusion
Queen of Spades (2021) is a passable supernatural horror film that delivers a handful of eerie moments but ultimately fails to stand out in an oversaturated genre. While it benefits from an unsettling atmosphere and a premise rooted in a chilling Russian urban legend, it struggles to bring anything new to the table. The film leans heavily on familiar horror tropes—an ancient ritual gone wrong, a vengeful spirit hunting down those who invoked it, and a desperate attempt to break the curse—all of which have been explored more effectively in other films. Rather than building on its folklore-inspired concept to create a unique and memorable horror experience, it plays things too safe, sticking to predictable plot beats that seasoned horror fans will see coming from a mile away. Although the film has moments of tension, particularly in its use of mirrors and reflections to heighten the supernatural element, these scares feel formulaic rather than genuinely terrifying. The pacing is uneven, with stretches of slow build-up that fail to create meaningful suspense, followed by rushed sequences of horror that lack impact. The characters, while serviceable, lack depth, making it difficult to connect with their struggles or fear for their survival. Without strong emotional stakes or a truly innovative take on its central legend, Queen of Spades ends up feeling like just another supernatural horror film rather than a standout entry in the genre. It’s watchable for those who enjoy ghostly folklore and classic urban legend horror, but it doesn’t do enough to leave a lasting impression.
Ultimate Verdict:
I’d rate Queen of Spades: Ominous mirror reflections that definitely weren’t there a second ago, out of 100.
Have you watched this movie? What did you think of it? Anything we missed? Have an idea for what we should watch next? Drop a comment below to let us know!
California may be known for its sunny beaches and Hollywood glamour, but beneath its golden facade lies a darker side filled with restless spirits, eerie legends, and haunted history. From abandoned ghost towns and cursed mansions to infamous hotels where guests never check out, the Golden State is home to some of the most terrifying paranormal hotspots in the country. Whether you’re a skeptic or a true believer, these 13 haunted locations will send chills down your spine and make you think twice before exploring alone after dark.
The RMS Queen Mary, docked in Long Beach, California, is one of the most haunted places in the world, with over 150 reported spirits lingering aboard. Originally launched in 1936 as a luxury ocean liner, it was later repurposed as a WWII troop transport, earning the nickname “The Grey Ghost.” Since its retirement in 1967, the ship has become infamous for its paranormal activity, particularly in Stateroom B340, where guests have experienced violent knocking, flickering lights, and even bed covers being pulled off while they sleep. The first-class swimming pool is said to be haunted by the ghost of a young girl named Jackie, whose laughter and wet footprints have been spotted despite the pool being empty. Deep in the engine room, Door 13 is linked to the spirit of a crew member who was crushed to death during a routine drill, while the Queen’s Salon is known for the apparition of a woman in a flowing white gown, seen dancing as if at a long-forgotten event. The boiler room and lower decks are also hotspots for eerie whispers, shadowy figures, and sudden cold spots. The Queen Mary now offers ghost tours and paranormal investigations, drawing thrill-seekers and investigators alike. Shows like Ghost Adventures and Most Haunted have explored its corridors, capturing chilling evidence of supernatural activity. Whether you’re brave enough to stay the night or just curious to explore, the Queen Mary remains a legendary haunt—if you dare to step aboard.
2. The Winchester Mystery House (San Jose)
The Winchester Mystery House in San Jose, California, is one of the most bizarre and haunted mansions in the world. Built by Sarah Winchester, the widow of firearms magnate William Wirt Winchester, the house became a labyrinth of twisting hallways, staircases leading to nowhere, and hidden rooms—all allegedly designed to confuse the spirits of those killed by Winchester rifles. After her husband and infant daughter’s deaths, Sarah consulted a psychic, who told her she was cursed and needed to continuously build onto the house to appease vengeful spirits. Construction went on non-stop for 38 years, resulting in a sprawling 160-room mansion filled with eerie architectural oddities, including doors that open into walls and windows set into floors. Many believe Sarah herself still haunts the property, along with other restless spirits. Visitors and staff report phantom footsteps, whispers, shadowy figures, and cold spots, particularly in the Séance Room, where Sarah allegedly communicated with spirits for building guidance. The Grand Ballroom and hallway mirrors are also known for ghostly apparitions, and some claim to have seen Sarah’s spectral figure wandering the halls. The house now operates as a historic landmark and tourist attraction, offering ghost tours and overnight investigations. Paranormal experts and ghost hunters continue to be fascinated by its strange history, believing it remains a supernatural hotspot. Whether it’s truly haunted or just an architectural enigma, the Winchester Mystery House remains one of California’s most mysterious and spine-chilling locations.
Alcatraz Island, home to the infamous Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary, is widely regarded as one of the most haunted places in the United States. Located in the San Francisco Bay, the prison housed some of the most notorious criminals in American history, including Al Capone, George “Machine Gun” Kelly, and Robert Stroud (the “Birdman of Alcatraz”). The harsh conditions and brutal treatment of inmates led to numerous deaths, including murders, suicides, and unexplained disappearances, fueling the island’s ghostly reputation. One of the most chilling locations is Cell Block D, also known as “The Hole”, where inmates were placed in solitary confinement, often experiencing extreme psychological distress. Some prisoners reported seeing a shadowy figure with glowing eyes, and one inmate allegedly screamed about being attacked by an unseen force—only to be found dead in his cell the next morning. The hospital wing is another hotspot for paranormal activity, with visitors and staff hearing eerie whispers, moaning, and the faint sound of banjo music—said to be played by the ghost of Al Capone himself. Former guards and modern-day visitors have reported phantom footsteps, cold spots, and the sounds of unseen prisoners crying out in despair. The dungeons beneath the prison and the old execution areas are also known for their dark energy and strange occurrences. Today, Alcatraz operates as a national park and tourist attraction, offering historical tours—including nighttime visits that highlight its haunted past. Whether it’s the lingering spirits of tormented prisoners or simply the eerie atmosphere of an abandoned prison, Alcatraz remains a chilling and mysterious destination for those seeking a brush with the supernatural.
The Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel, one of Los Angeles’ most iconic landmarks, is as famous for its ghostly residents as it is for its rich history. Opened in 1927, the hotel was a hotspot for Hollywood’s Golden Age elite, hosting stars like Marilyn Monroe, Montgomery Clift, and Charlie Chaplin. Many believe some of these legendary figures never truly left. The most well-known ghost is Marilyn Monroe, whose reflection has been seen in the mirror of her old suite, Room 1200. Guests report feeling an eerie presence and seeing glimpses of her spirit near the hotel’s pool, where she often posed for photos. Another frequently encountered ghost is Montgomery Clift, who stayed in Room 928 while filming From Here to Eternity. Visitors report hearing his ghost practicing the trumpet and feeling invisible hands brush against them. The hotel’s Blossom Ballroom, where the first Academy Awards were held, is also rumored to be haunted—witnesses claim to hear disembodied voices and see shadowy figures moving across the stage. Guests and staff have also encountered the spirit of a young girl in a blue dress, believed to be a lost soul wandering the halls. Paranormal investigators have captured cold spots, unexplained knocks, and whispers throughout the building, making it a must-visit for ghost hunters. Today, the Roosevelt remains a luxurious hotel, but its chilling reputation continues to intrigue those fascinated by Hollywood’s haunted history. Whether you’re a skeptic or a believer, staying at the Roosevelt might bring you closer to the ghosts of Tinseltown’s past.
Preston Castle, also known as the Preston School of Industry, is one of the most haunted locations in Ione, California. Opened in 1894, it served as a reform school for troubled boys, some of whom were sent there for minor crimes while others had violent pasts. The facility, which operated until 1960, gained a dark reputation due to reports of abuse, harsh punishments, and mysterious deaths. One of the most famous hauntings is tied to Anna Corbin, a housekeeper who was brutally murdered in the castle in the 1950s. Her spirit is believed to linger, with visitors reporting shadowy figures, cold spots, and eerie whispers in the halls. Former inmates are also said to haunt the site, with unexplained noises, disembodied voices, and doors slamming on their own being frequently reported. The basement and infirmary are especially active, with paranormal investigators capturing strange EVPs (electronic voice phenomena) and ghostly apparitions. Today, Preston Castle is a historic landmark and paranormal hotspot, offering ghost tours and overnight investigations. Whether it’s the restless souls of former inmates or the tragic spirit of Anna Corbin, Preston Castle continues to be a chilling destination for those seeking a true haunted experience.
Nestled in the remote Sierra Nevada mountains, Bodie Ghost Town is one of California’s most well-preserved and haunted abandoned settlements. Once a booming Gold Rush town in the late 1800s, Bodie was notorious for its violence, crime, and lawlessness, with shootouts, murders, and mining accidents being a common occurrence. At its peak, it housed over 10,000 residents, but as the gold dried up, the town was slowly abandoned, officially becoming a ghost town by the 1940s. Many believe that the spirits of former residents still linger among the deserted buildings and dusty streets. Visitors and park rangers report eerie experiences, including phantom footsteps, shadowy figures in windows, and disembodied voices calling out in the night. The J.S. Cain House is said to be haunted by the ghost of a woman who appears in a rocking chair, while the Mendocini House has an eerie presence that makes guests feel watched. However, the most infamous supernatural legend tied to Bodie is the Bodie Curse—it is said that taking any artifact or even a small rock from the town brings misfortune, bad luck, and even death, leading many to return stolen items in hopes of lifting the curse. Now part of Bodie State Historic Park, the town is preserved in a state of “arrested decay,” allowing visitors to walk through its eerie remnants and feel the lingering presence of its ghostly past. Whether it’s the spirits of miners, outlaws, or heartbroken souls, Bodie remains one of California’s most chilling and mysterious ghost towns.
7. The Cecil Hotel (Los Angeles)
Photo by Zheng Zhao at Wikimedia.com
The Cecil Hotel in Los Angeles, California, is one of the most infamous haunted locations in the world, known for its dark history of murders, suicides, and unexplained deaths. Opened in 1924, the hotel was originally intended as a luxury destination, but during the Great Depression, it became a cheap stay for transients and criminals, earning a sinister reputation. Over the decades, the Cecil became the site of numerous tragedies, including at least 16 known deaths. The most famous case is the mysterious death of Elisa Lam in 2013, whose bizarre behavior in elevator footage—before her body was later found in the hotel’s rooftop water tank—sparked conspiracy theories and ghostly speculation. Other infamous guests included serial killers Richard Ramirez (“The Night Stalker”) and Jack Unterweger, who both stayed at the hotel while committing their crimes. Paranormal investigators and visitors report shadowy figures, unexplained whispers, flickering lights, and a heavy, oppressive atmosphere throughout the building. Some claim to have seen the ghosts of former guests wandering the hallways, particularly on the upper floors where many suicides occurred. Due to its dark past, the Cecil Hotel inspired the setting for American Horror Story: Hotel and was the subject of the Netflix documentary Crime Scene: The Vanishing at the Cecil Hotel. Though it has since been rebranded as Stay on Main, its eerie history remains, making it one of the most chilling and haunted locations in California.
8. The Whaley House (San Diego)
Photo by Joe Mabel from Wikimedia.com
The Whaley House in San Diego, California, is often called one of the most haunted houses in America, steeped in a history of tragedy and supernatural phenomena. Built in 1857 by Thomas Whaley on the site of a former public gallows, the house was witness to several dark events, including the hanging of James “Yankee Jim” Robinson, whose ghost is said to still linger. The Whaley family themselves experienced great misfortune, with the tragic deaths of several family members occurring within the home. Visitors and staff report chilling encounters, such as phantom footsteps, cold spots, and disembodied voices. Many have claimed to see the spirit of Thomas Whaley himself, dressed in period clothing, as well as the ghost of Anna Whaley, who is often seen in the parlor or on the staircase. The smell of cigar smoke and perfume sometimes fills the air without explanation. Other apparitions include a young girl believed to be the spirit of a family friend who died on the property. The Whaley House’s history as both a family home and a courthouse adds to its eerie atmosphere. Today, it operates as a museum, offering daytime tours and nighttime ghost hunts, drawing in paranormal enthusiasts and skeptics alike. Whether it’s the restless spirit of Yankee Jim or the sorrowful souls of the Whaley family, the house remains a chilling reminder of San Diego’s haunted past.
9. The Mission Inn (Riverside)
Photo by 3Kathleen3 from Wikimedia.com
The Mission Inn, located in Riverside, California, is a stunning historic hotel with a dark and mysterious reputation for paranormal activity. Opened in 1903, the sprawling Spanish-style inn has hosted countless celebrities, dignitaries, and even U.S. presidents, but some guests may have never checked out. The hotel is said to be haunted by the spirits of monks, believed to be connected to its catacomb-like underground tunnels and chapel. Visitors have reported seeing shadowy figures in robes, hearing chanting, and experiencing cold spots in the hallways. One of the most famous ghost stories involves the spirit of Frank Miller, the hotel’s eccentric founder, who is said to still roam the property, occasionally appearing to guests. The fourth floor is particularly notorious, with guests experiencing eerie whispers, flickering lights, and even sightings of ghostly apparitions. Some say the antique dolls displayed in the inn move on their own, adding to the unsettling atmosphere. Paranormal investigators have recorded EVPs (electronic voice phenomena) and unexplained anomalies, making the Mission Inn a hotspot for ghost hunters. Whether it’s the lingering spirits of past guests, the restless souls of monks, or the presence of its long-gone owner, the Mission Inn remains one of California’s most haunted hotels, blending historic beauty with an eerie supernatural presence.
10. Los Coches Adobe (Soledad)
The Los Coches Adobe, located in Soledad, California, is one of the most chilling and lesser-known haunted locations in the state. Originally built in the 1800s, the adobe served as a stagecoach stop, inn, and even a prison, with a history of violence, death, and tragedy. The land itself is believed to be cursed, as it was once the site of murders, suicides, and even a mine collapse that killed numerous workers. Paranormal activity is frequently reported, with visitors and locals describing disembodied whispers, ghostly apparitions, and shadowy figures roaming the abandoned structure. One of the most terrifying legends is the phantom stagecoach, said to appear on foggy nights, its ghostly horses and driver vanishing into thin air. Some claim to hear the cries of former prisoners, their spirits still trapped within the adobe’s crumbling walls. Another eerie presence is that of a mysterious woman in black, often seen wandering the area before disappearing into the night. The site is now mostly abandoned and inaccessible to the public, but thrill-seekers and ghost hunters who have dared to visit report an overwhelming sense of unease, as if unseen eyes are always watching. Whether it’s the tragic history or something truly supernatural, Los Coches Adobe remains one of California’s most unsettling and haunted locations.
Nestled between Whittier and Hacienda Heights, California, Turnbull Canyon is a place steeped in dark legends, paranormal activity, and eerie urban myths. Known for its winding roads, rugged hills, and ominous atmosphere, the canyon has long been rumored to be a hotspot for supernatural occurrences. Stories of satanic rituals, cult activity, Native American curses, and even disappearances have surrounded the area for decades. One of the most persistent legends involves ghostly figures wandering the trails, believed to be the spirits of people who were sacrificed in occult ceremonies. Hikers and late-night visitors have reported hearing disembodied screams, whispers, and footsteps following them, even when no one else is around. Some claim to have seen shadowy apparitions darting through the trees, while others speak of a phantom plane crash—a real event from the 1950s that supposedly left behind restless spirits. Another chilling tale involves the so-called “Gravity Hill,” where parked cars mysteriously roll uphill, defying logic. The canyon is also linked to the infamous “Gates of Hell,” an abandoned asylum or cult compound, depending on the version of the story, where people claim to see ghostly figures and hear unsettling voices. Whether it’s the result of urban legend, historical tragedies, or something truly supernatural, Turnbull Canyon remains one of California’s most notorious and chilling haunted locations, drawing in thrill-seekers, ghost hunters, and skeptics alike.
12. The Brookdale Lodge (Brookdale)
Photo by John Pilge from Wikimedia.com
Tucked away in the Santa Cruz Mountains, the Brookdale Lodge is one of California’s most haunted hotels, known for its eerie atmosphere, tragic history, and ghostly encounters. Originally built in 1870, the lodge became a popular retreat for Hollywood celebrities, politicians, and even mobsters during its heyday. However, beneath its charming, rustic exterior lies a dark past filled with mysterious deaths and reported hauntings. The most famous spirit said to linger is that of Sarah Logan, a young girl who is believed to have drowned in the Brook Room’s indoor creek, a unique feature that runs through the lodge’s restaurant. Guests and staff report seeing Sarah’s ghost playing near the water, laughing, or calling out before vanishing into thin air. Other paranormal activity includes disembodied whispers, phantom footsteps, and shadowy figures wandering the halls. Some say they’ve encountered the spirits of former gangsters and prohibition-era bootleggers, whose violent pasts may still linger within the walls. The secret tunnels beneath the lodge, once used for smuggling alcohol during Prohibition, add another layer of mystery, as ghostly voices and cold drafts are often felt in the underground passages. Today, the lodge remains a popular stop for paranormal investigators and those seeking a brush with the supernatural. Whether it’s Sarah’s playful spirit, lingering remnants of the past, or something more sinister, Brookdale Lodge continues to be one of California’s most intriguing haunted locations.
13. The Graffiti House (Mojave Desert)
Deep in the Mojave Desert, hidden among the desolate landscape, lies the eerie and mysterious Graffiti House—an abandoned structure covered in cryptic writings, strange symbols, and unsettling messages left behind by unknown visitors. While little is officially documented about its history, the Graffiti House has become a hotspot for urban legends, paranormal encounters, and unexplained phenomena. Some believe the house was once a meeting place for occult rituals, while others claim it was a hideout for criminals or drifters who left behind more than just their graffiti. Paranormal investigators and thrill-seekers who have dared to explore the site report strange noises, shadowy figures, and an overwhelming sense of dread upon entering. Visitors have described seeing flickering lights, hearing whispers in empty rooms, and even feeling unseen hands touch them. Some believe the Graffiti House is a portal for dark energy, with many experiencing disturbing visions or feeling suddenly ill while inside. Others have captured chilling EVPs (electronic voice phenomena), with voices seeming to warn people to leave. Though its origins remain unclear, the eerie artwork covering its walls only adds to the sense of unease, making it one of the Mojave’s most notorious and haunted locations. Whether it’s the lingering spirits of past inhabitants, the result of dark rituals, or just the power of suggestion, those who visit the Graffiti House often leave with a story they can’t explain—and many refuse to return.
California is home to some of the most chilling and mysterious haunted locations in the country, each with its own dark history and spine-tingling tales. From abandoned ghost towns and infamous hotels to eerie canyons and cursed mansions, these places continue to draw ghost hunters, thrill-seekers, and skeptics alike. Whether you believe in the paranormal or simply enjoy a good ghost story, visiting these haunted spots is sure to leave you with an unforgettable experience. Are you brave enough to explore California’s most haunted places, or will you leave the spirits undisturbed?
Some photographs reveal more than they should, and in Ghost Camera by Darcy Coates, that discovery turns deadly. This eerie collection of short horror stories centers around supernatural encounters, with the title story following Jenine, who finds an old camera that captures ghostly figures invisible to the naked eye. What starts as a curiosity soon becomes a terrifying ordeal as the spirits grow more hostile, and she realizes she’s entangled in something far beyond her control. Each story in the collection delivers its own dose of suspense and creeping dread, making Ghost Camera a thrilling read for fans of atmospheric and unsettling horror.
The very first story, Ghost Camera, is a fast-paced and eerie read that pulls you in from the start. The story follows Jenine, who finds an old camera and quickly realizes it has a terrifying ability—it captures images of ghosts that aren’t visible to the naked eye. At first, she’s just curious, snapping photos to see what appears, but things take a dark turn when the ghosts start getting closer in each picture. Soon, they’re not just standing in the background—they’re watching her, reaching for her, and making it clear they want something. As Jenine scrambles to figure out where the camera came from and how to escape its curse, she uncovers a disturbing pattern: every previous owner met a horrible fate. With time running out, she’s forced into a dangerous fight to break free before she becomes the next victim. Ghost Camera is a suspenseful, quick read packed with creepy imagery, mounting dread, and a plot that keeps you hooked until the final, chilling moment.
While Ghost Camera is the standout story in the anthology, most of the other entries, while entertaining, don’t leave much of a lasting impression. The Run to Broken Ridge Lighthouse sets up an eerie atmosphere with its solitary stretch of beach and grisly backstory, but it never quite delivers on its suspense, leaving the resolution feeling somewhat underwhelming. Similarly, Death Birds provided an interesting sci-fi premise with some tense moments, but the predictable twists make it less impactful compared to the stronger stories in the collection. The rest of the stories included: Payment for the Dead, Untamed Things, The House on Boxwood Lane, Remains, and Cathedral. They weren’t terrible stories by any means, but just didn’t stick with me (I actually had to go back to the book while writing this so I could remember what these stories were). All were enjoyable in the moment, but just lacked the supreme creepiness I was longing for.
That all changed when I listened to the final story, A Box of Tapes. This short horror story is a gripping, edge-of-your-seat thriller that masterfully builds tension from the moment the mother discovers the mysterious box of VHS tapes in her daughter’s closet. The ominous note—“Do not watch, you’ll regret it”—immediately sets the tone for the dread that follows. As she gives in to curiosity and plays the tapes, the gruesome murders they reveal are disturbing enough, but the real terror begins when her daughter starts seeing the eerie woman from the recordings in real life. The story expertly escalates the suspense, making every shadow and every flickering screen feel like a threat. Just when you think you have it figured out, the twist ending pulls the rug out from under you, leaving a lingering sense of unease. With its tight pacing, unsettling imagery, and relentless sense of dread, this is a short horror story that sticks with you long after the final page.
I read this story on a work night (I have to wake up at 4:30 AM), and it was so enthralling that I couldn’t bring myself to stop, even when I knew I’d regret it in the morning. I stayed up until after 11, completely absorbed, listening to every eerie detail unfold. The tension kept building, and just when I thought I had a moment to breathe, something even creepier would happen, making it impossible to turn it off. Even after I finally forced myself to stop, the story lingered in my mind, making it nearly impossible to fall asleep. Every shadow in my room felt darker, every little creak in the house sent a shiver down my spine, and I kept replaying the most unsettling moments in my head. It took over an hour before I could finally drift off, and even then, I half-expected to wake up in the middle of the night and see the lady from the tapes in my bedroom.
The characters in this short horror story are incredibly well-developed, making the terror feel all the more real. The mother is a compelling protagonist—her love for her daughter is evident in every decision she makes, and her growing fear and desperation are palpable as she tries to protect her child from the horrors unfolding around them. Her reactions feel authentic, balancing skepticism, dread, and an increasing sense of helplessness as the tapes’ dark secrets unravel. The daughter is equally engaging, with her innocent confusion turning into sheer terror as she begins to see the eerie woman from the recordings in real life. The mother-daughter bond adds an emotional depth that makes the horror even more intense, as their struggle feels deeply personal rather than just a supernatural mystery. And, of course, the mysterious woman committing the murders is a chilling presence—her eerie, otherworldly nature lingers throughout the story, making her feel like a true nightmare come to life. Each character plays a crucial role in the suspense, making the twists and final revelation all the more haunting.
As I mentioned earlier, none of the other characters in any of the stories really stood out to me in a memorable way. While some had interesting backstories or were placed in intriguing situations, their personalities and development felt somewhat generic, making it hard to connect with them on a deeper level. Even the characters in the main story, Ghost Camera, didn’t leave a strong impression on me. While the plot itself was gripping and the suspense kept me engaged, the characters felt more like vehicles for the story rather than fully fleshed-out individuals. I still thoroughly enjoyed the eerie atmosphere and the way the tension built throughout, but I found myself more invested in the mystery of the camera than in the people caught up in it.
Writing an in-depth review for an anthology of short horror stories can be challenging because each story is so different in terms of plot, pacing, and scares. Some stories rely on slow-building psychological horror, while others dive straight into fast-paced, supernatural terror, making it difficult to analyze them as a cohesive whole. However, one thing that remains consistent throughout is the writer’s ability to craft an eerie and immersive mood in every story. No matter the premise, the tension is always palpable, and the unsettling tone lingers long after each tale ends. I also appreciated how varied the settings were—each story took place in a unique and well-described environment, from isolated lighthouses to haunted houses and cursed objects, keeping the anthology fresh and engaging. While some stories stood out more than others, the author’s skill in creating chilling atmospheres and vivid locations made the entire collection an enjoyable and unsettling read.
Overall, Ghost Camera is a chilling and suspenseful collection that showcases Darcy Coates’ talent for crafting eerie, immersive horror. While some stories are more memorable than others, the anthology as a whole delivers a consistently haunting atmosphere with a strong sense of tension and dread. The title story, Ghost Camera, and ending story, A Box of Tapes, stand out as the most gripping, blending supernatural terror with an engaging mystery that keeps readers hooked until the very end. Though the characters may not be the most distinctive, the unsettling settings and expertly built suspense make up for it, ensuring that each story leaves a lasting impression. Whether you’re a longtime fan of Coates or just looking for a quick, creepy read, Ghost Camera is a solid choice that delivers plenty of eerie moments and spine-chilling surprises.
What did you think? Have you read this book? If so, what was your favorite story in it? Have a book recommendation? Let us know in the comments below!
In an isolated, frozen research facility on the edge of a desolate Antarctic wasteland, two of horror cinema’s most terrifying creatures converge. Here, the Xenomorph—nature’s ruthless, predatory killing machine—faces off against The Thing, an alien shapeshifter capable of assimilating any living organism. In this grim arena, raw predatory instinct collides with mutable, parasitic terror in a battle where every moment is a desperate struggle for survival.
Round 1: The Setup
The Location
The setting is a derelict research station, long abandoned and battered by the relentless Antarctic elements. Its corridors, once a testament to human ingenuity, now echo with the mournful howls of the wind and the eerie creaks of ice shifting against decaying metal. Frost clings to every surface, and the biting cold seeps into the very walls. The station—once a cutting-edge facility—stands as a bleak monument to forgotten ambitions, its darkened hallways and abandoned labs offering a perfect stage for nightmares that defy natural order.
Deep within these icy confines, something stirs. The Thing, having already infiltrated the base, lurks unseen. Over time, it has assimilated several unwary researchers, adopting their forms to blend seamlessly into the sparse population. Its presence is like a malignant shadow, patiently waiting for the right moment to reveal its true, horrifying nature.
The Arrival
The Xenomorph
Aboard a derelict supply shuttle drifting through space, the Xenomorph is inadvertently delivered to this forsaken Antarctic outpost. Unbeknownst to anyone, the shuttle’s course led it straight into the research station’s airlock. Driven solely by a single-minded predatory instinct, the Xenomorph silently emerges from a dark ventilation duct. Its sleek, jet-black exoskeleton glistens in the intermittent light, and its multifaceted, inhuman eyes scan every dark corner for potential prey. Every step it takes is calculated, every movement a study in lethal grace. Armed with acid for blood and equipped with a mouth that can eviscerate flesh with ease, this perfect organism is primed to hunt.
The Thing
Meanwhile, The Thing lies in wait. It has already claimed several lives and learned to mimic them so convincingly that even the station’s few remaining systems seem oblivious to its presence. Lurking in the shadows of the dim corridors, it senses a disturbance—a new, unfamiliar life form that doesn’t quite belong among the assimilated. Its consciousness is a swirling mass of mimetic potential, capable of instantaneously adopting the appearance of any living creature. Now, with the arrival of the Xenomorph, The Thing begins to stir, its amorphous form rippling as it contemplates the prospect of a new host to conquer.
Round 2: The Encounter
Initial Contact
As the Xenomorph’s predatory instincts drive it forward, it picks up a faint, irregular heartbeat—a stray pulse echoing through the cold, stagnant air of the research station. At first, it appears to be the thump of a solitary lab technician, but something is off. The figure before it is unnervingly still, and as the creature draws closer, its finely tuned senses detect an aura of deception.
From the shadows, The Thing reveals itself in subtle fashion. Initially, it is camouflaged as a lone human worker, complete with the tired, resigned look of someone who has long since given up hope. Its features are too smooth, too controlled—a disguise meant to lull predators into a false sense of security. As the Xenomorph approaches, its every sense alert for signs of weakness, The Thing waits for the perfect moment to strike.
The Clash Begins
Without warning, as the Xenomorph lunges with its inner jaw snapping forward in a deadly arc, The Thing abandons its human guise. In a grotesque, almost surreal transformation, its body ripples and contorts into a monstrous, amorphous mass. Limbs twist and reform in impossible angles, and its very structure seems to defy the known laws of biology. The sudden metamorphosis startles the Xenomorph—if only for an instant—but its instincts, honed over millennia of predation, quickly overcome any hesitation.
Reacting instantly, The Thing extends tendrils of living tissue in an attempt to envelop and assimilate the alien predator. It surges forward, aiming to absorb the Xenomorph into its ever-changing mass. However, nature has granted the Xenomorph defenses that even this ultimate shapeshifter cannot easily overcome. Its chitinous exoskeleton offers a formidable barrier, and the corrosive acid that flows within its veins seeps out to burn anything it touches. These natural defenses thwart The Thing’s initial attempt at assimilation, forcing it to recalibrate its strategy.
Round 3: Tactical Maneuvers
Brutal Engagement
With its initial assault repelled, the Xenomorph retaliates with unbridled ferocity. The corridors of the research station become a dark stage for a ballet of violence. The Xenomorph darts nimbly around the contorting mass of The Thing, its movements a study in predatory efficiency. It slashes out with razor-sharp claws, each swipe aimed with surgical precision. Its long, whip-like tail lashes out, and with every strike, droplets of acidic blood splatter against The Thing’s malleable surface. The corrosive substance burns on contact, sizzling against the shapeshifter’s newly-formed limbs and causing portions of its tissue to bubble and dissolve.
In response, The Thing morphs rapidly. One moment, it shifts into a hulking, blubbering mass—designed to absorb the Xenomorph’s savage blows—while the next, it forms spindly, tendril-like appendages intended to ensnare and restrain its agile foe. This constant, frantic transformation creates a disorienting tableau; the very ground seems to writhe under the influence of The Thing’s mutating form. Yet, every time it attempts to wrap around or mimic the predator’s body, the potent acid proves to be a disruptive force. As the acid corrodes the integrity of its structure, parts of its newly-formed limbs disintegrate before they can inflict lasting damage.
Environmental Warfare
The battle soon spills into the narrow, claustrophobic corridors of the station—a setting that plays directly into the Xenomorph’s strengths. The dim, flickering lights and deep shadows create perfect ambush points for the stealthy predator. Using these elements to its advantage, the Xenomorph stalks The Thing, leaping from behind frozen machinery and shattered glass. Each ambush is a calculated strike aimed at isolating sections of the shapeshifter, forcing it to split its attention between multiple, rapidly shifting targets.
Not one to be outmaneuvered, The Thing attempts to employ subterfuge. In one desperate gambit, it shifts into the form of a weakened, injured human—a guise designed to evoke a momentary lapse in the Xenomorph’s vigilance. The predator’s senses, however, are finely tuned to the subtleties of its environment. A slight discrepancy in movement, an off note in the scent of its target, and the ruse is detected. Sensing the deception, the Xenomorph bypasses the trap, launching a counterattack with renewed intensity. The Thing’s mimicry, while effective in some scenarios, falters in the face of such an unyielding, predatory force.
Round 4: The Final Showdown
The Decisive Moment
As the conflict rages on, the battle draws both combatants deeper into the labyrinthine service tunnels of the station. These corridors, lined with frost and abandoned equipment, have become a nightmarish maze where survival hangs by a thread. Cornered and with little room to maneuver, The Thing resolves to unleash its most desperate gambit. It begins to split its form into a multitude of writhing tendrils, each one reaching out in a bid to simultaneously overwhelm the Xenomorph from all sides.
The station’s cold, unyielding walls bear witness to this final confrontation. The Thing’s tendrils writhe like snakes, seeking any vulnerability in the alien predator’s defenses. For a fleeting moment, it appears that the shapeshifter might succeed in ensnaring the Xenomorph within its amorphous clutches.
But the Xenomorph is not so easily subdued. Driven by pure, relentless predatory determination, it harnesses every ounce of its formidable arsenal. With blinding speed and precision, it darts between the tendrils, its inner jaw and powerful tail delivering savage, acidic strikes. Each blow is a calculated effort to burn away the tissue that The Thing uses to mimic life—a fiery, corrosive assault that leaves no room for the shapeshifter’s regenerative trickery.
Overwhelming the Shapeshifter
In the chaos of the final showdown, the Xenomorph senses the key to victory. Amid the writhing mass of The Thing, there appears a pulsating core—a central mass that seems to govern the shapeshifter’s myriad forms. With a final, ferocious burst of speed, the Xenomorph zeroes in on this vital point. Leaping through the air, it clamps down on the core, its jaws closing with a precision honed by countless hunts. The acidic saliva begins to sear through the central mass, and a sickening, sizzling sound fills the narrow corridor.
The Thing convulses violently as the acid disrupts its internal structure. Its uncanny ability to reorganize and mimic begins to falter under the relentless, corrosive onslaught. One by one, its appendages start to disintegrate. The amorphous mass that once shifted fluidly now shudders and splinters, its mimicry shattering under the Xenomorph’s brutal efficiency. In the ensuing moments, the Thing’s resistance crumbles. The relentless acidity eats away at its core, leaving it no longer capable of the rapid transformation that had so far made it such a formidable foe.
Final Verdict: The Xenomorph Wins
Key Factors Leading to Victory
1. Relentless Predatory Instincts:
The Xenomorph’s primal drive to hunt and kill forces it to exploit every conceivable weakness in The Thing’s constantly shifting form. Its instincts, evolved over millennia, guide it to recognize that even a shape-shifting organism has vulnerabilities—particularly when its mimicry is disrupted by a corrosive agent.
2. Acidic Defense Mechanism:
Unlike The Thing’s amorphous structure, the Xenomorph is equipped with acid for blood—a natural defense and offense that proves to be the ultimate countermeasure. The acid not only burns through flesh but also disrupts The Thing’s ability to maintain a cohesive form, effectively neutralizing its regenerative mimicry.
3. Environmental Advantage:
The setting of the abandoned research station—a maze of narrow, shadowy corridors—provides a distinct tactical advantage for the agile and stealthy Xenomorph. The confined space denies The Thing the room required to fully deploy its sprawling, adaptive forms, forcing it into direct confrontations where its malleability becomes a liability.
4. Focused Lethality:
By identifying and targeting the central core of The Thing’s mass, the Xenomorph is able to neutralize the very center of the shapeshifter’s control. This focused, lethal assault prevents The Thing from regenerating or reforming its deadly appendages, sealing its fate.
Conclusion
In this gruesome contest between the perfect organism and the ultimate shapeshifter, the Xenomorph’s raw, uncompromising predatory prowess and its corrosive, acidic arsenal ultimately prevail over The Thing’s remarkable ability to assimilate and mimic. While The Thing’s capacity for rapid transformation and adaptation is formidable, it is not enough to counter the relentless efficiency of the Xenomorph. In the frozen corridors of the forsaken research station, every echo of dripping acid and every hiss of sizzling tissue testifies to the triumph of nature’s cold, brutal efficiency.
As the echoes of the final confrontation fade into the howling Antarctic wind, the research station stands as a silent monument to the Xenomorph’s apex status. Amid the scattered remnants of shattered, assimilated tissue and the lingering scent of acid, one truth remains undeniable: in the battle of the perfect organism versus the ultimate shapeshifter, nature’s predatory design—in the form of the Xenomorph—has emerged as the undisputed, terrifying victor.
Do you agree with our verdict? Why or why not? We’re genuinely curious what other folks think the outcome would be! Have another match you’d like us to turn into a villain showdown? Drop a comment below- we’d love to hear from you!
Leprechaun: Origins (2014) tries to take the franchise in a darker, more serious direction, but ends up stripping away everything that made the original Leprechaun movies fun. Instead of Warwick Davis’ mischievous, wisecracking killer, we get a generic, snarling creature that barely resembles a leprechaun at all. The story follows a group of American tourists in Ireland who stumble upon a cursed village and quickly become prey for the monstrous leprechaun. As always, I watched this one twice, so let’s dive right in.
Horror Elements
The horror in this film leans heavily on dark, claustrophobic settings, as the characters find themselves trapped in a remote village where the locals have been offering sacrifices to keep the creature at bay. The filmmakers rely on a mix of creature horror and survival horror, creating a tense atmosphere as the protagonists try to escape an enemy they barely understand. Unfortunately, while the setting and setup have potential, the execution falls short, making the film feel more like a generic monster movie than a true Leprechaun reboot.
One of the film’s main horror elements is its creature design, which trades the recognizable, mischievous leprechaun for something more animalistic. The new leprechaun is barely seen for much of the movie, with quick cuts and shadowy glimpses used to build suspense before its full reveal. When we finally do see it, the design is underwhelming—it looks more like a hairless goblin or some kind of subterranean monster rather than a mythical Irish creature. Honestly it reminded me of the cave-dwelling creatures in the movie “The Descent”, just not as scary.
The film tries to use this more monstrous approach to create fear, but it lacks personality and memorable traits, making it hard for audiences to feel any real attachment or terror. The kills, while brutal, are mostly standard fare for creature features, with slashing, mauling, and the occasional gore shot, but none stand out as particularly inventive or shocking. Without a compelling villain at its core, the film struggles to maintain real tension or excitement.
In case my previous two paragraphs weren’t clear enough, let me just emphasize: the monster in this movie does NOT resemble a Leprechaun in any way, shape, or form whatsoever. Honestly, it’s baffling. Not only does it completely abandon the leprechaun’s traditional look—the little green suit, the mischievous grin, the obsession with gold—but it also ditches all the playful, trickster qualities that made the original films so fun. Did I mention they gave this creature thermal vision? Yes, you heard that right. A leprechaun with thermal vision. In what corner of Irish folklore does it ever mention leprechauns being able to see heat signatures like a predator? I’m still scratching my head over that one. It feels like the filmmakers just slapped the Leprechaun name on this generic creature-feature without any understanding of the source material.
I’m genuinely at a loss for how a movie with the Leprechaun name could get the entire concept of the monster so completely and utterly wrong. It’s not just a misstep; it’s a fundamental misunderstanding of what makes the franchise, and leprechauns themselves, memorable. The whole thing feels disconnected, like they tried to create something terrifying without any regard for the iconic myth they were supposedly working with. Did the film makers even watch any of the original movies? Experience a St. Patty’s day celebration?? Eat a bowl of Lucky Charms???
Okay, done venting, back to my review…
The final major horror element is the sense of isolation and helplessness, as the characters find themselves hunted in unfamiliar territory. The Irish countryside, with its dense forests and eerie ruins, could have been used to great effect, but the film doesn’t fully take advantage of its setting. Instead, much of the action takes place in dimly lit barns and underground tunnels, which, while claustrophobic, don’t add much to the atmosphere. The villagers, who know more than they let on, provide a brief folk horror element, but their role is minimal and lacks depth. Without strong world-building or an engaging antagonist, Leprechaun: Origins fails to deliver the chilling, folklore-infused horror it aims for. Instead, it feels like a generic creature feature that just happens to use the Leprechaun name, making it a disappointment for both fans of the franchise and horror lovers looking for something fresh.
Movie Elements
Leprechaun: Origins seriously lacks creativity, which is a huge letdown for a franchise known for its weird, over-the-top fun. Instead of putting a fresh spin on the classic leprechaun myth, the movie strips away everything unique and replaces it with a generic monster flick that could’ve been about any random creature. The leprechaun itself doesn’t even look or act like one—it’s just a mindless, growling beast that spends most of the movie lurking in the shadows. There’s no personality, no clever kills, and no fun mythology to make it stand out. Even the setting, rural Ireland, could have been used to add some eerie folklore vibes, but the film barely takes advantage of it. Instead, we get a by-the-numbers survival horror movie that could’ve been called anything else and no one would have noticed. For a reboot, it plays things way too safe, making Leprechaun: Origins feel more like a forgettable SyFy Channel creature feature than a fresh take on a cult classic.
The acting in Leprechaun: Origins is as forgettable as the rest of the movie. The cast, made up mostly of unknowns, delivers bland and uninspired performances, with characters that feel more like horror movie stereotypes than real people. You’ve got the standard group of clueless American tourists who make dumb decisions and spend most of the movie either screaming or arguing. There’s no real chemistry between them, and since the script doesn’t give them much to work with, it’s hard to care about anyone’s survival. Even WWE’s Dylan “Hornswoggle” Postl, who plays the leprechaun, is completely wasted since the creature is barely seen and has no personality. Without a strong villain or interesting protagonists, the performances fall flat, making the movie feel even more lifeless than it already is.
The cinematography is just as disappointing as the rest of the film. Instead of using the Irish countryside (it doesn’t look like Ireland) to create an eerie, atmospheric horror vibe, most of the movie is shot in dark, cramped locations that make it hard to see what’s going on. The filmmakers rely way too much on shaky cam and quick cuts, especially during action scenes, which makes the few monster attacks more frustrating than scary. Even when the leprechaun is on screen, the camera work and lighting hide it so much that you never get a good look at the creature. There was a real opportunity to use moody lighting, creative angles, or even some cool folklore-inspired visuals, but instead, we get a generic, poorly lit horror movie. Side note- why are all the villagers dressed as though they’re from the mid 1900s? What was the point of that?
Let me just say, it was seriously tough for me to sit through this one twice because it was just so bland and boring. The pacing dragged, the dialogue was lifeless, and there was absolutely nothing that kept me invested in what was happening on screen. Not only was I able to guess the entire plot within the first 15 minutes, but I even predicted the exact order in which the main characters would die—down to the last survivor. There were no surprises, no twists, and definitely no moments that made me feel even the slightest bit of suspense. I kept hoping for something—anything—to shake things up, but it just stuck to the most generic horror formula possible. I mean, come on… if your movie is this predictable, at least make it fun or give us a villain worth watching. Instead, I was left counting the minutes until it was finally over.
Conclusion
While the film attempts to go for a gritty, creature-feature vibe, it falls flat with forgettable characters, dull kills, and a lack of the franchise’s signature campy charm. Honestly, if the movie had been named anything-and I mean ANYthing else, I would have said it wasn’t half bad. I probably could have enjoyed it a bit. But they didn’t- they called this movie Leprechaun Origins because this was supposed to be a reboot for the beloved cult classic. If you’re looking for the goofy, over-the-top fun of the original Leprechaun films, you won’t find it here—just a bland, uninspired horror flick that doesn’t do the series any favors.
Final Scare Me Please Score: That is not a leprechaun, out of 100
Have you watched this movie? What did you think of it? Was it just as disappointing to you as it was to us? Anything we missed? Have an idea for what we should watch next? Drop a comment below to let us know!
Ghost Stories (2017) is a chilling British horror anthology that blends psychological and supernatural terror into a suspenseful, twist-laden film. Directed by Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman, the film follows Professor Philip Goodman, a skeptical investigator of paranormal claims, as he examines three disturbing cases that challenge his beliefs. With its eerie atmosphere, unsettling storytelling, and strong performances, Ghost Stories aims to pay homage to classic horror anthologies while offering a fresh take on the genre.
Let me be upfront by saying I am a huge fan of horror movie anthologies—I seem to enjoy them even when they aren’t particularly well-made. There’s something about the structure of interconnected, bite-sized tales of terror that I find irresistible. However, that doesn’t mean I can’t recognize when an anthology falls flat or fails to deliver a satisfying experience. Some rely too heavily on jump scares, while others struggle with pacing or weak wraparound stories. So where does Ghost Stories rank among its peers? Does it deliver a hauntingly memorable experience, or is it just another forgettable entry in the genre? Let’s take a closer look.
Horror Elements
At the beginning of the movie, the true antagonist isn’t immediately clear, as the film presents itself as a straightforward supernatural investigation. Initially, the cases Professor Philip Goodman examines seem to suggest that the ghosts and demons haunting the victims are the primary sources of terror. However, as the film progresses, it becomes evident that the real antagonist is something far more psychological—Goodman himself. His deep-seated guilt and suppressed trauma manifest through the terrifying stories he encounters, leading to a shocking revelation that reframes the entire narrative. The sinister force at play isn’t just the supernatural but the haunting nature of Goodman’s own mind, making Ghost Stories as much a psychological thriller as it is a horror film. Honestly, I went into this movie not knowing this (the trailer doesn’t give too much away), so I initially thought this was just going to be another supernatural-scares sort of film. This made the psychological twist so much more powerful at the end.
Professor Philip Goodman is a highly believable protagonist in Ghost Stories (2017), thanks to both strong writing and Andy Nyman’s nuanced performance. As a skeptic and debunker of the paranormal, Goodman is grounded in logic and reason, making his descent into fear and uncertainty all the more compelling. His reactions to the eerie events he investigates feel natural—initially dismissive, then subtly unnerved, and eventually completely unraveled. Unlike many horror protagonists who make irrational decisions for the sake of scares, Goodman approaches each case methodically, making his transformation into a man questioning his own reality all the more effective. This slow suspenseful build only adds to the horror. His backstory, which is gradually revealed, adds layers to his character, making him not just a vessel for the audience but a deeply flawed and human figure whose fears are far more psychological than supernatural.
In addition to having a believable protagonist, I also felt as though the different characters’ reactions were uniquely portrayed by their character and realistic. With the first case to be examined, that of Tony Matthews, his reaction to the supernatural events reflects what his character would actually do: turn on a happy song up loud, call his co-worker for comfort, pick up a hammer (weapon), and call out a threat to whatever is out in the darkness tormenting him. Simon Rifkind, the second case study, reacts in a similar fashion in that he attempts to grab a weapon (a rolled up map is better than nothing). Instead of going into “fight mode” as Matthews did, he instead chooses to run from the car when the monster enters it. Considering how fragile his character seems, this fits what he’d actually do quite well. Finally, Mike Priddle, the 3rd and final character, reacts differently as well. Being an intelligent business man, he approaches paranormal events with a logical approach. For example, when the baby diapers fly across the floor in the nursery, he checks all the windows for a potential draft. Again, it fits his character and I appreciate these subtle differences immensely.
Movie Elements
While many anthologies rely on disconnected short tales with a simple wraparound narrative, Ghost Stories cleverly weaves its segments into a larger, more cohesive mystery that builds toward an unexpected and deeply unsettling conclusion. Additionally, its willingness to subvert expectations—particularly in how it recontextualizes its supernatural elements—adds a layer of depth rarely seen in traditional anthology horror. Rather than just telling scary stories, the film ultimately explores the nature of fear, guilt, and the fragile state of the human mind, making it a refreshingly original entry in the genre.
The pacing of Ghost Stories is deliberate, gradually building tension rather than relying on constant scares or action. The film takes its time establishing atmosphere and character, particularly through Professor Philip Goodman’s methodical investigations. Each of the three cases unfolds with a slow, creeping dread, allowing the horror to simmer rather than explode all at once. While this approach effectively heightens suspense, some viewers may find the film’s measured pace a bit too restrained, especially in the first half. However, the steady buildup pays off in the final act, where the narrative accelerates into a surreal, mind-bending climax. The film’s pacing ultimately mirrors its psychological themes—drawing the audience deeper into Goodman’s unraveling reality—making for an experience that is unsettling, if at times intentionally slow-burning.
Acting is one of the film’s strongest aspects, with each performance adding depth and authenticity to the film’s eerie atmosphere. Andy Nyman delivers a compelling lead performance as Professor Philip Goodman, perfectly capturing his character’s skepticism, growing unease, and eventual unraveling. Paul Whitehouse, Alex Lawther, and Martin Freeman each bring something unique to their respective segments.
Whitehouse portrays a working-class man haunted by a tragic encounter with raw realism. In fact ,as I was watching his story unfold, I couldn’t help but be reminded of someone I knew exactly like him that I worked with many years back. Specifically, when the spooky stuff starts to happen to him during his night shift, he kind of blows it off at first, something I felt to be very much, Lawther’s performance as a deeply disturbed teenager is intensely unsettling, and Freeman adds a charismatic yet chilling presence that lingers long after his scenes. The cast’s commitment to their roles makes the supernatural elements feel all the more believable, elevating Ghost Stories beyond a typical horror anthology into something far more psychological and immersive.
Cinematography was yet another aspect of the film that was done well. The camera often lingers on empty spaces, creating a sense of unease and suggesting the presence of something unseen. The use of dim lighting and shadowy compositions heightens the feeling of claustrophobia and uncertainty, with scenes that seem to be on the edge of revealing something terrifying, but never fully expose it until the right moment. The framing is precise, often focusing on the protagonist’s reactions or the subtle movement in the background, adding to the unease. Particularly effective are the moments when the camera holds on still shots, allowing the audience to linger in the discomfort of a scene, with every shadow or flicker of light amplifying the growing sense of dread. One specific example of this is during a scene with the character Tony Matthews. After exploring the far end of the basement level of his building and discovering nothing amiss, he tries to calm his nerves by smoking a cigarette. In the background, the audience can see the lights in the hallway behind him turn off one by one; this was incredibly effective.
Conclusion
Overall, Ghost Stories is a meticulously crafted horror anthology that blends supernatural chills with psychological depth, offering a uniquely unsettling experience. With strong performances, a slow-burning but effective pace, and masterful use of cinematography and sound design, the film builds an eerie, immersive atmosphere that almost requires a second viewing. While its deliberate pacing and layered storytelling may not appeal to all horror fans, those who appreciate psychological horror and well-executed suspense will find plenty to admire. As I’ve mentioned in other articles, I have ADHD. With this in mind, when I say that this movie captured my full interest, it means it was extremely interesting. I like to take notes during both my viewings of the movies I review, and with this one I actually had to pause it so I could jot stuff down as I didn’t want to miss a single second. More than just a collection of ghostly encounters, Ghost Stories is a chilling exploration of guilt, fear, and the blurred lines between reality and the mind’s darkest corners.
Final Scare Me Please Score: Coma from hell, out of 100
Have you watched this movie? What did you think of it? Did you guess the ending? Which was the scariest story to you? Anything we missed? Have an idea for what we should watch next? Drop a comment below to let us know!
Directed by Jon Knautz, “The Cleaning Lady” opens with a deeply disturbing sequence that sets the tone for the film’s exploration of obsession and trauma. What might this introductory sequence be? In simple terms: rat smoothie. Yes, you read that correctly and let me just say I’ve had a multitude of ratties as pets over the years which made the opening scene quite upsetting. This psychological horror movie centers on Alice, a woman trying to simplify her life and overcome an affair by befriending her cleaning lady, Shelly. However, as their friendship deepens, Alice discovers that Shelly harbors dark secrets and a twisted past which tries to justify the “rat smoothie” the viewer is forced to endure within the first 5 minutes of the movie. The director attempts to intertwine themes of loneliness, manipulation, and the haunting impact of past traumas in a way that scares the audience; let’s take a deeper look at whether or not this was accomplished.
Horror Elements
“The Cleaning Lady” introduces audiences to a unique and haunting antagonist in the form of Shelly, portrayed with unsettling intensity by Rachel Alig. Unlike typical horror villains, Shelly’s menace is rooted in her tragic and twisted past, which has left her physically and emotionally scarred. Her outward appearance, marred by severe burns, masks an even more disturbing inner darkness. Shelly’s actions are driven by a complex mix of envy, obsession, and a desperate longing for connection, making her both sympathetic and terrifying. Her meticulous and calculated manipulation of Alice reveals a deeply disturbed mind, capable of orchestrating chilling acts of psychological and physical torment. Shelly’s character stands out in the horror genre for her layered backstory and the profound sense of unease she evokes, making her a memorable and uniquely horrifying antagonist.
The story’s core elements—loneliness, obsession, and the lingering effects of trauma—are deeply rooted in real human experiences, making the characters’ actions and motivations chillingly believable. Shelly’s physical scars and emotional wounds reflect a realistic portrayal of how past abuse and neglect can shape one’s psyche, driving her to extreme and terrifying behaviors. The film’s setting, primarily within the confines of ordinary, everyday spaces like Alice’s home, enhances the sense of realism by juxtaposing the familiar with the sinister. This grounded approach to horror makes the unfolding events feel plausible and immediate, intensifying the audience’s emotional response.
Shelly, the unsettling antagonist of “The Cleaning Lady,” has a backstory steeped in trauma and tragedy, which profoundly shapes her disturbing behavior. Born into an abusive household, Shelly endured unimaginable suffering at the hands of her mother, who inflicted severe burns on her as a form of punishment. These physical scars are a constant reminder of her painful past, but it is the emotional scars that drive her actions. Isolated and tormented, Shelly’s psyche becomes twisted, leading her to develop an obsession with cleanliness as a way to control her chaotic life. Her need for connection and acceptance manifests in a dangerous fixation on Alice, a woman she cleans for, whom she perceives as perfect and unattainable. Shelly’s tragic past and the abuse she suffered create a complex and sympathetic villain, whose actions, while horrifying, are rooted in a desperate longing for the love and normalcy she never experienced.
Suspense is mostly accomplished via the growing bond between Alice and Shelly. This relationship is laced with an ever-present sense of dread, as Shelly’s true nature and intentions slowly come to light. The suspense is heightened by the claustrophobic setting, primarily confined to Alice’s home, which transforms from a safe haven into a prison of psychological torment. Director Jon Knautz uses tight, intimate shots and a haunting score to amplify the feeling of unease, drawing the audience deeper into the twisted dynamics between the characters. As the film progresses, the suspense intensifies, culminating in a series of shocking and unpredictable twists that leave viewers both horrified and enthralled.
The sound design meticulously uses subtle, everyday noises—such as the scraping of a cleaning brush, the clinking of glass, and the hum of household appliances—to create an eerie sense of normalcy twisted into something sinister. The soundtrack’s sparse, haunting melodies punctuate moments of quiet tension, building an almost unbearable suspense as Shelly’s dark past and intentions are gradually revealed. Alice, the protagonist of “The Cleaning Lady,” is portrayed with a level of complexity and realism that makes her a believable and relatable character. As a woman struggling with personal demons, including an extramarital affair and a sense of emptiness, Alice’s vulnerability and attempts at self-improvement are convincingly depicted. Her decision to befriend Shelly, driven by a mix of compassion and a desire for distraction from her own problems, feels authentic and grounded in her character’s emotional state.
Alice’s gradual realization of Shelly’s dark side and her increasing entanglement in Shelly’s disturbing world are portrayed with a genuine sense of fear and desperation. Her reactions to the escalating horror are realistic, reflecting a blend of disbelief, horror, and survival instinct that resonates with the audience. Despite some moments that may require a slight suspension of disbelief, such as her continued interactions with Shelly despite growing red flags, Alice’s journey is overall compelling and believable. Her character’s depth and relatability add to the film’s psychological tension, making the unfolding events all the more gripping and horrifying.
Movie Elements
“The Cleaning Lady” brings a fresh perspective to the horror genre by intertwining themes of psychological trauma, obsession, and the quest for human connection in a unique and unsettling narrative. Unlike conventional horror films that rely heavily on supernatural elements or overt gore, this movie focuses on the chilling dynamics between its characters and the horrors rooted in real human experiences. Shelly, as the antagonist, stands out with her tragic backstory and complex motivations, offering a villain who evokes both fear and a degree of sympathy.
The film’s setting—a seemingly ordinary home that becomes a site of psychological and physical terror—adds to its originality. The use of everyday objects and routines, like cleaning, to build suspense and horror is both innovative and deeply unnerving. This approach not only subverts common horror tropes but also makes the terror feel more immediate and relatable. Additionally, “The Cleaning Lady” explores the intricate psychological interplay between its characters, particularly the twisted bond between Alice and Shelly. This focus on character-driven horror, combined with the film’s disturbing yet plausible scenarios, sets it apart in the genre, making it a standout for its originality and depth.
While “The Cleaning Lady” succeeds in creating a disturbing atmosphere and intriguing characters, its pacing is a notable drawback. The film starts with a strong, eerie introduction but soon lapses into a slow buildup that may test the patience of some viewers. Key plot developments unfold at a sluggish pace, and the tension that is carefully built often dissipates due to lengthy, drawn-out scenes that could have been more tightly edited. The middle portion of the film, in particular, suffers from this slow pacing, as it delves deeply into character interactions and backstory without advancing the plot significantly. This can lead to a sense of stagnation, where the initial suspense wanes and the audience is left waiting for the next significant event. While the detailed exploration of characters is commendable, the film occasionally prioritizes this over maintaining a consistent sense of urgency and suspense. The pacing issues become more pronounced when the story finally shifts gears towards the climax. The sudden acceleration of events can feel jarring, contrasting sharply with the earlier, more leisurely pace. This uneven pacing detracts from the overall tension and makes the climax feel somewhat rushed and less impactful. Overall, while “The Cleaning Lady” excels in atmosphere and character development, its poor pacing hampers the film’s ability to sustain suspense and fully engage the audience throughout its runtime.
Rachel Alig, as Shelly, is particularly effective in her role, bringing a chilling intensity to her character. Alig’s performance captures the duality of Shelly’s personality—her outward appearance as a quiet, unassuming cleaning lady and her hidden, deeply disturbed nature. The subtlety with which Alig portrays Shelly’s growing obsession and manipulative tendencies adds to the film’s unsettling atmosphere, making her a compelling and memorable antagonist. The supporting cast also contributes to the film’s overall impact, with each actor enhancing the story’s tension and emotional depth. The interactions between the characters feel organic, and the chemistry between Kendra and Alig is especially noteworthy, driving the narrative forward and heightening the psychological stakes.
Conclusion
In conclusion, “The Cleaning Lady” ultimately falls short of its potential, hindered by its uneven pacing and lackluster plot development. While the performances by Alexis Kendra and Rachel Alig are commendable, they cannot fully compensate for the film’s drawn-out middle act and predictable storyline. The movie’s attempts at building suspense often feel forced, and the reliance on familiar horror tropes detracts from any sense of originality. Despite a few genuinely unsettling moments, “The Cleaning Lady” fails to maintain a consistent level of tension or deliver a truly compelling horror experience, leaving viewers more frustrated than frightened.
Final Scare Me Please Score: “Rat smoothie” should not be a thing, out of 100
Allow me to begin this review by putting you into the opening scene of the movie:
You arrive home after a fun night on the town. It’s late, you’ve had too much to drink, and you’re thankful to have made it home safely. You reach for the light switch and flip it on, but nothing happens. Thinking the power must be out, you decide to just stumble around in the dark instead of attempting to locate the fuse box. Thankfully there’s enough moonlight shining through the windows to be able to see without tripping over anything. After you finally make it to the bedroom, you stop dead in your tracks as you notice something is there that shouldn’t be: a large, antique wooden box is sitting in the middle of your room. You’ve never seen it before, but before your mind has time to process its presence, the box begins to rattle as though someone is inside.
What a creepy, attention-grabbing opening. “The Collector,” directed by Marcus Dunstan, plunges audiences into a nightmarish scenario of survival and terror. This slasher/body horror film follows Arkin, a desperate handyman who plans to rob a wealthy family’s home, only to find himself trapped inside with a sadistic killer who has rigged the house with deadly traps. Combining elements of home invasion, psychological horror, and slasher grotesqueness, “The Collector” delivers a relentless and suspenseful experience, leaving viewers on edge from start to finish. With its intense atmosphere, inventive traps, and a chilling antagonist, the film promises a gripping and harrowing journey into the dark recesses of human cruelty and desperation.
Horror Elements
The true standout of “The Collector” is its unique antagonist, a meticulously cunning and sadistic figure known only as “The Collector.” Unlike typical horror villains, The Collector isn’t motivated by vengeance or supernatural forces; his drive is pure malevolence and an unsettling fascination with his victims’ suffering. He meticulously plans his captures, turning homes into macabre death traps that showcase his twisted ingenuity. With his eerie mask and calculated demeanor, The Collector is a master of psychological manipulation, instilling dread through his omnipresence and unpredictability. This villain’s methodical cruelty and unrelenting pursuit of his prey elevate the film’s terror, making him a memorable and chilling figure in the horror genre.
Despite its gripping premise, “The Collector” stretches the boundaries of plausibility, veering into unrealistic territory at times. The elaborate traps, while ingeniously designed, often feel too complex and intricate to be set up in the limited time frame suggested by the film. The antagonist’s ability to orchestrate such a meticulously detailed and deadly environment without detection strains credibility, especially considering the physical and logistical challenges involved. Additionally, the resilience of the characters, particularly their ability to endure extreme physical trauma and continue fighting, can come across as exaggerated and far-fetched. These elements, while contributing to the film’s tension and entertainment value, require a significant suspension of disbelief, reminding viewers that they are watching a carefully crafted piece of fiction rather than a scenario grounded in reality.
Suspense is the driving force behind “The Collector,” gripping the audience from the very first scene and never letting go. The film masterfully builds tension through a combination of claustrophobic settings, unpredictable traps, and the ever-present threat of the antagonist. Each moment is fraught with danger, as Arkin navigates the booby-trapped house, with every step potentially triggering a deadly mechanism. The cat-and-mouse dynamic between Arkin and The Collector heightens the suspense, as viewers are constantly left guessing about who will gain the upper hand. The film’s pacing is relentless, with each narrow escape and close call amplifying the sense of impending doom.
“The Collector” tantalizes viewers with glimpses of the antagonist’s enigmatic backstory, adding layers of intrigue to his character. While much about The Collector remains shrouded in mystery, these hints suggest a dark and twisted past that shaped his sadistic tendencies. The lack of a fully fleshed-out backstory for The Collector serves to enhance his menacing presence, making him an even more unpredictable and terrifying figure. By leaving much of his history to the imagination, the film allows the audience to fill in the gaps with their own fears, deepening the psychological impact of the character and heightening the overall sense of dread. A little backstory is given at the very end of the film, but not enough to allow any of the built-up dread to evaporate.
Audio cues play a crucial role in amplifying the tension and fear in “The Collector.” The film utilizes a carefully crafted sound design to heighten the sense of impending danger and to keep viewers on edge. Sudden, jarring noises accompany the triggering of traps and make each encounter even more shocking. The soundtrack features a mix of eerie, unsettling music and stark silences, creating a palpable sense of dread and anticipation. Ambient sounds, such as the creaking of floorboards or the subtle clicking of a timer, are used to great effect, immersing the audience in the film’s perilous environment. To hear a soft music box-type jingle, followed by electronica beats, followed by a complete lack of any sound at all really set me on edge.
Arkin, the protagonist of “The Collector,” often pushes the boundaries of believability, which can detract from the film’s overall realism. His transformation from a desperate handyman to a resourceful hero capable of outsmarting a cunning and sadistic antagonist feels abrupt and somewhat implausible. The sheer physical endurance he displays, surviving severe injuries and enduring extreme stress while still managing to navigate the house’s deadly traps, stretches credibility. Additionally, his ability to think quickly and devise escape strategies in the heat of the moment seems beyond the capabilities of an ordinary person with his background. While these traits make Arkin a compelling and resilient character, they require a significant suspension of disbelief from the audience, reminding them that they are watching a heightened cinematic portrayal rather than a realistic scenario. Honestly, I think I would’ve liked the film a lot more if the entire film stuck to the initial plot of him stealthily navigating the house, having to endure hearing those around him die, while he kept hidden, too terrified to take action. That alone was a unique, super scary premise to me.
Movie Elements
The film’s concept of a protagonist who becomes an unintended victim during a planned heist is a fresh twist that sets it apart from typical horror plots. The antagonist’s elaborate and inventive traps add another layer of originality, showcasing a perverse creativity that is both horrifying and fascinating. Additionally, the film’s relentless pacing and the claustrophobic setting of a booby-trapped house provide a distinctively intense and immersive experience. By combining these elements, “The Collector” really did show quite a bit of originality.
The cinematography of the film significantly enhances its suspenseful and claustrophobic atmosphere. Director of Photography Brandon Cox uses tight, confined shots to amplify the feeling of entrapment and tension as Arkin navigates the perilous, booby-trapped house. The film’s lighting is stark and strategic, with dimly lit corridors and rooms that heighten the sense of dread and uncertainty. Dynamic camera angles and movements are used to mirror the characters’ anxiety and disorientation. Quick cuts and shaky handheld shots during moments of intense action create an immersive experience, drawing viewers into the chaos and danger. Conversely, slow, deliberate pans build suspense, allowing the terror to unfold gradually. Two scenes in particular really stood out to me, the first being when the main character Arkin is attempting to crack open the safe and the killer slowly walks upstairs toward him. The camera pans to a top view, enabling viewers to see how close these two characters are to one another; the tension is so high it is palpable. Secondly, the other scene that really stood out to me, was when the first full trap is realized by the characters and zoom-in shots of all its mechanical workings reveal just how intricate it is. Those two scenes were really well done.
As I mentioned earlier, the plot was creative but highly unrealistic. I didn’t like any of the characters, though the acting was fine. Whenever someone was killed, I honestly didn’t feel any sort of emotional tie that made me think “Nooo, why couldn’t that person have lived!”. Part of me enjoyed the main character when he started to fight back against The Collector, but the other part of me screamed “Why the hell didn’t he do it sooner?”. I feel as though he let the other people in the film just die and it was only at the very end that he finally started to take direct action. Wouldn’t it have been smarter to immediately set the other two adults locked in the basement free? Three against one, right? Also, if the main character was willing to break a window and just run for it, why not do that immediately upon finding himself trapped with a psycho? Another sore point for me, why the heck didn’t the younger daughter run to Arkin when he was actually inside the house calling/looking for her, instead of waiting to bang on the window after he was already outside running for help? Yet another point that bothered me, was the electrocution scene. How did a full-grown man get electrocuted to death by the water on the floor, but the goldfish that was in that water survived just fine? Perhaps the most egregious part of the film, however, was that both the cat and dog died… I mean seriously? Isn’t that the number one horror film faux-paus? Always let the pets live… come on.
Moving on from my plot rant, the film effectively balances moments of quiet unease with sudden bursts of intense action, keeping the audience constantly engaged. The traps set by the antagonist are revealed strategically, adding layers of suspense and unpredictability to the narrative. As the protagonist, Arkin, navigates the deadly obstacles and confronts the malevolent Collector, the pacing intensifies, culminating in a gripping climax that delivers on the film’s promise of heart-pounding thrills.
Conclusion
Reflecting back on the beginning of this review, I would say the intro scene is the perfect summary of how I feel about this movie- it’s creepy and disturbing, and the characters make a lot of dumb decisions. I mean, seriously folks- you’re gonna see a random box in the middle of your room and not immediately run out of the house? I would’ve been out of there so fast and I certainly would not have approached it to take a better look at what might be inside. Overall, the movie had too much torture and icky scenes for me to enjoy it much. It was definitely worth seeing as it was interesting for me even though I’m not a fan of that style of horror. The antagonist’s intricate traps and the protagonist’s desperate struggle amplify the sense of danger and uncertainty and kept me captivated from start to finish. While requiring a suspension of disbelief, the film’s commitment to delivering intense thrills and psychological tension will make you walk away with a lasting impression of its unsettling atmosphere, ensuring it remains a memorable and impactful experience for fans of the genre.
Final Scare Me Please Score: What’s wrong with just collecting stamps, out of 100
Have you watched this movie? What did you think? Would you have done anything different to try and escape the house? Drop a comment below to let us know!
“Lethal Company” is a 1st-person survival horror game developed and published by a single person: Zeekerss. Still in early-access, the $10 game has blown-up with the help of Youtuber’s showcasing the fun mechanics of the game, in addition to the consistent development and love shown to it by the developer. Recently, this growing popularity was further assisted by the game’s collaboration with Fortnite, allowing the purchase of a Lethal Company skin within its shop. Since the game still is in “early-access”, this review might be a bit premature, but considering how much enjoyment (and screams) we’ve already gotten from playing, we decided to go ahead with this post.
Horror Elements
Uncertainty is among the top elements of horror used within the game via the use of procedurally generated maps. This feature significantly amplifies the fear and unpredictability of the gameplay experience and ensures that no two playthroughs are the same, keeping players on edge as they navigate through ever-changing environments filled with new threats and surprises. The randomization of map layouts means that players cannot rely on memorization or previous strategies, heightening the sense of vulnerability and tension. Each session presents fresh challenges and opportunities, requiring players to adapt quickly and think on their feet. The unpredictable nature of the maps, combined with the game’s eerie atmosphere and relentless enemies, creates a dynamic horror experience that is both terrifying and exhilarating. By incorporating procedurally generated maps, Lethal Company delivers a uniquely suspenseful adventure that keeps players constantly engaged and on the lookout for the next lurking danger.
Since the game is co-op, I originally assumed there would be a lack of genuine fear while playing- I mean, I would be playing alongside 3 other people, so there wouldn’t be much room for jump-scares or tension build up, right? I was terribly wrong. The co-op horror experience is uniquely enhanced by a use of isolation mechanics and strategy, creating an atmosphere of shared yet personal dread. Depending on the player’s strategy, the game forcefully separates players at critical moments, forcing them to confront terrifying situations alone while maintaining communication with their team. This design choice heightens the fear and tension, as players must navigate dark, eerie environments without the immediate support of their companions. The isolation not only amplifies individual vulnerability but also fosters a deeper sense of camaraderie when the team is reunited. The game’s sound design plays a pivotal role, with distant screams and unsettling noises adding to the feeling of being alone and hunted. By combining cooperative gameplay with moments of solitary terror, Lethal Company delivers a gripping and immersive horror experience that keeps players on edge and tests their ability to work together under pressure.
One standout feature of the game, at least in my humble opinion, are the unique monsters/entities that populate its world. Most monsters (especially zombies) are overdone in a lot of video games, so it’s refreshing to see some new ones. Lethal Company introduces a diverse array of creatures, each with distinctive designs, behaviors, and attack patterns that keep players constantly on edge. Though these monsters are not visually striking, they do what they are intended to do: scare ya. My only complaint is the lack of backstory; if Lethal Company was also imbued with rich lore, it would, beyond a doubt, enhance the game’s dark and immersive atmosphere.
Regardless, each encounter with these creatures is a fresh and harrowing experience, requiring players to adapt their strategies and remain vigilant. The developers’ creativity shines through in the monsters’ varied appearances and the eerie, unsettling sounds they make, adding layers of dread and tension. These unique adversaries are integral to the game’s identity, providing memorable challenges that elevate the gameplay. The originality invested in these monsters make Lethal Company a must-play for fans of the horror genre, offering a truly distinctive and chilling experience that sets it apart from other games.
Yet another point that’s worth mentioning is the creator’s decision to feature a weak protagonist. This, in itself, significantly enhances the overall sense of fear and vulnerability, making the game a truly terrifying experience. The game deliberately avoids giving players the comfort of a powerful hero. Instead, the protagonist is fragile and limited in abilities, which heightens the stakes and amplifies the tension in every encounter. This design choice forces players to rely on stealth, cunning, and resourcefulness to survive, rather than brute strength or combat skills. The constant awareness of the protagonist’s fragility transforms even mundane tasks into nerve-wracking challenges, as danger lurks around every corner. The sense of dread is further intensified by the protagonist’s realistic reactions to fear and danger, creating a deeply immersive experience. By making the player feel genuinely vulnerable, Lethal Company achieves a level of horror that is both psychological and visceral, ensuring that every moment is filled with suspense and terror.
Game Elements
Subtle use of audio plays a crucial role in creating an atmosphere of pervasive dread and tension. The game masterfully employs understated sound design to keep players on edge, with every creak, whisper, and distant footstep enhancing the sense of unease. The ambient sounds are meticulously crafted to immerse players in the game’s eerie environments, where silence can be as terrifying as any jump scare. This nuanced approach to audio, where even the slightest noise can signal impending danger, forces players to remain hyper-aware of their surroundings. The light-hearted soundtrack when first landing on the moon clashes perfectly with the drastic minimalistic sound upon entering the facility, working together to build a chilling, immersive experience that heightens the psychological horror. By leveraging subtle audio cues, Lethal Company creates a deeply unsettling atmosphere that lingers long after the game is turned off, proving that sometimes, it’s what you don’t hear that’s the most frightening.
In Lethal Company, the minimal and stylized graphics prove that horror doesn’t rely on hyper-realism to be terrifying. The game uses a distinctive visual style that strips away unnecessary details, focusing instead on creating an atmosphere thick with tension and fear. The stark, minimalist environments are cleverly designed to leave much to the imagination, allowing players’ minds to fill in the gaps with their own worst nightmares. This artistic choice enhances the sense of unease, as the simplistic visuals juxtapose with the complex, eerie soundscapes and unsettling ambient noises. Shadows, lighting, and color contrast are expertly used to evoke dread, with every corner and shadowy figure feeling like a potential threat. The minimalist approach also makes every visual cue and movement significant, ensuring that even the slightest anomaly can send chills down the spine.
Unfortunately, I do have a few complaints to throw out here as well; my number one complaint, as I mentioned earlier, is the lack of backstory/end game. The potential for a truly engaging experience is undermined by a noticeable lack of character and plot development. Lethal Company sets up an intriguing premise and a visually compelling world, but fails to delve deeply into its characters or storyline. The protagonists remain one-dimensional, with minimal backstory or growth throughout the game, making it difficult for players to form a strong emotional connection. While Lethal Company excels in other areas, such as gameplay mechanics and visual design, its weak character and plot development prevent it from being a truly memorable and impactful game.
While the initial experience is captivating, the game’s limited replayability becomes apparent after a few playthroughs. The lack of varied content and new objectives makes subsequent playthroughs feel repetitive, as players encounter the same scenarios and outcomes. Additionally, the game’s linear progression and absence of significant branching paths or alternate endings reduce the incentive for exploration and experimentation. Despite its strengths in storytelling and atmosphere, Lethal Company would benefit from additional content updates or expansions to enhance its longevity. For those seeking a relatively short (not necessarily one-time) immersive experience, the game delivers admirably, but it falls short for players looking for a title they can return to time and time again.
Conclusion
Lethal Company exemplifies the creativity and innovation that indie games bring to the gaming industry. Overall, this game delivers a unique and compelling experience that stands out from mainstream titles. Its minimalist yet impactful graphics, innovative gameplay mechanics, and rich atmosphere combine to create an immersive journey that captivates from start to finish. While there may be areas for improvement, such as expanding content for greater replayability, including a leveling system, or enhancing character depth, Lethal Company excels in providing a fresh and engaging adventure. Horror game enthusiasts willing to take a look into some Indie titles, will find much to appreciate in this thoughtfully crafted little horror gem, making it a worthwhile addition to any gamer’s collection.
Final Scare Me Please Score: We’ll do anything for the Company, out of 100
Have you been hired by the company yet? Are you a good employee? Is it tough for you to hit quota? Which monster is the scariest for you? Do you have a moon joke? Drop a comment below to let us know!
Imagine being trapped in a paradise that turns into a waking nightmare; this is the premise of “The Ruins,” a chilling adaptation of Scott Smith’s best-selling novel. Directed by Carter Smith, this film plunges us into the heart of the Mexican jungle, where a group of friends on vacation stumble upon an ancient Mayan temple. What begins as a casual adventure quickly descends into terror as they discover that something malevolent lurks within the ruins. The movie masterfully combines lovecraftian horror with psychological dread, crafting an atmosphere that is as claustrophobic as it is terrifying. As the vines tighten and the body count rises, “The Ruins” ensures that viewers will never look at an innocent hiking trip the same way again.
Horror Elements
“The Ruins” distinguishes itself within the horror genre with its unique and menacing antagonist: the sentient, carnivorous vines that inhabit the ancient Mayan temple. These vines are not just passive plants but active predators, exhibiting a terrifying level of malevolence. Unlike typical horror villains, these vines possess a cunning intelligence. They can mimic human voices and sounds, creating confusion and manipulating the group into making fatal mistakes. This psychological manipulation deepens the horror, as the characters cannot trust their own senses.
The vines are a dual threat, attacking not only the mind, but also the body. They infiltrate and consume the flesh, causing grotesque injuries and infections. The invasive nature of the vines, burrowing into the characters’ bodies and sprouting from within, creates a visceral body horror. The infection and its manifestations are horrifying, tapping into primal fears of bodily invasion and corruption. As if all this weren’t bad enough, the vines are omnipresent, covering the temple and surrounding areas, making any escape attempt seem futile. Their pervasive presence creates a claustrophobic atmosphere, trapping the characters in a nightmarish landscape where every move they make is watched and countered by the vines. When they do try to escape, the Mayan villagers surrounding the temple attack them mercilessly, even killing one within their group.
The characters in “The Ruins” respond to their dire situation in ways that feel genuine and relatable. Their initial excitement and curiosity turn into panic and desperation as they realize the severity of their predicament. The group’s dynamics—friction, fear, and varying degrees of hope and despair—reflect how real people might behave under extreme stress. In particular, the psychological breakdowns and paranoia experienced by the characters are portrayed in a manner that aligns with real human behavior under extreme duress. Their mental and emotional unraveling adds depth to the horror, making their fear and desperation palpable. In addition to this, the characters’ attempts to survive (such as rationing supplies, creating makeshift medical solutions, and strategizing for escape) are based on practical and logical responses to their situation. This adherence to realistic problem-solving techniques enhances the believability of their struggle.
The film’s sound design plays a pivotal role in building tension, with the eerie ambient sounds of the jungle—rustling leaves, distant animal calls, and the hum of insects—creating an immersive backdrop that constantly reminds viewers of the characters’ isolation and lurking dangers. Strategic use of silence heightens suspense, making the sudden disruptions by the vines more jarring. The vines themselves are brought to life with unsettling audio cues like slithering noises and creaking tendrils, establishing their menacing presence even when off-screen. Distorted, echoing voices mimic human sounds, deepening psychological horror and creating confusion. Sudden loud noises and musical stingers provide effective jump scares, while Graeme Revell’s haunting score underscores the film’s emotional beats, from growing dread to frantic desperation.
Movie Elements
With the movie being so different from the book, it was hard to judge this fairly at times (I thought the book was way better), but despite this I felt as though the director did an excellent job with a few things, the first being cinematography. The film often uses natural lighting to create a realistic and immersive environment. Bright, oppressive sunlight during the day contrasts sharply with the deep, inky darkness of the night, emphasizing the characters’ vulnerability and isolation. The cinematography frequently employs tight, claustrophobic shots that mirror the characters’ entrapment. Close-ups of anxious faces and confined spaces within the ruins intensify the feeling of suffocation and panic, drawing viewers into the characters’ nightmarish experience.
The second strength of the film lies in the compelling performances of its cast. Jonathan Tucker as Jeff, Jena Malone as Amy, Shawn Ashmore as Eric, Laura Ramsey as Stacy, and Joe Anderson as Mathias deliver nuanced portrayals that ground the film’s supernatural horrors in believable human emotion. Tucker’s performance as the determined and pragmatic Jeff anchors the group’s efforts to survive, while Malone’s portrayal of Amy captures a blend of vulnerability and resilience. Ashmore and Ramsey skillfully depict a couple unraveling under stress, with Ramsey’s portrayal of Stacy particularly standing out as she descends into paranoia and desperation. Anderson’s role as Mathias adds an element of cultural depth and urgency. Together, their interactions convey a palpable sense of camaraderie and tension, making their plight feel immediate and personal. Their realistic reactions to the escalating terror, from initial disbelief to ultimate despair, enhance the film’s emotional impact and elevate the horror experience.
Finally, I felt as though the pacing was exactly what this type of horror movie should be. It balances this to maintain suspense and steadily build tension throughout the film. From the outset, the movie swiftly immerses viewers in its unsettling atmosphere, quickly transitioning from the idyllic vacation scenes to the eerie discovery of the ancient temple. This rapid escalation sets the tone for the relentless dread that follows. As the characters become trapped, the pacing shifts to a more deliberate rhythm, allowing the horror to unfold gradually and methodically. Each moment of calm is punctuated by bursts of intense action or shocking revelations, keeping the audience on edge. The film’s pacing effectively mirrors the characters’ deteriorating mental and physical states, with moments of frantic activity followed by periods of ominous stillness, heightening the sense of claustrophobia and impending doom. This careful modulation of tempo ensures that the tension never wanes, leading to a climactic conclusion that feels both inevitable and satisfyingly harrowing.
Conclusion
As I mentioned earlier, I preferred the book much more than the movie. I believe most of the issues I had with the movie were based on time-constraints for a film, but I’ll point them out regardless. The character development is thin, leaving viewers with little emotional investment in the fates of the protagonists. This lack of depth makes it difficult to care about their survival, reducing the tension and emotional weight of the story. Additionally, while the sentient vines are a unique antagonist, their portrayal sometimes borders on the absurd, undermining the intended horror with moments that feel unintentionally comical. The film’s reliance on graphic gore and body horror, while effective at times, can come across as gratuitous and overshadow the psychological terror that could have made the story more compelling. Again, I think the book did an excellent job in all of these areas, it was just tough to fulfill this within a movie.
Despite my grumblings, I really did think this was a decent film. “The Ruins” stands out as a harrowing exploration of survival and the horrors lurking in nature’s depths. With its realistic portrayal of human fear and desperation, combined with the unique and terrifying antagonist of the sentient vines, the film delivers a relentless and visceral experience. The movie’s ability to maintain a tense atmosphere, coupled with strong performances and practical effects, ensures that it leaves a lasting impact on its audience. As the credits roll, viewers are left with a chilling reminder of the ancient and primal forces that can turn paradise into a nightmare. For fans of intense, Lovecraftian-driven horror, “The Ruins” is an unforgettable descent into terror.
Final Scare Me Please Score: Poison oak of doom, out of 100
Have you watched this movie? What did you think? Would you have done anything different to try and escape the ruins? Drop a comment below to let us know!
Scare Me Please 