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By the time American Gothic had come out, horror fans were familiar with the “don’t go in the woods” trope. Trouble was, and still is, expected for anyone who trades city comforts for the great outdoors. John Hough’s 1988 slasher admittedly follows the same path taken by others before it. However, where many of these kinds of movies continue to complete the same old routine, American Gothic takes a delightfully twisted turn that helps it stand out, even after all these years.

With a tagline like “The family that slays together, stays together,” it’s not hard to figure out where American Gothic is heading. The classic poster art, a dark parody of Grant Wood’s famous painting, even puts Yvonne De Carlo and Rod Steiger’s villainous characters front and center. Yet before they show up, viewers first meet Cynthia (Sarah Torgov), the movie’s ostensible Final Girl.

Beating Schrader’s Hardcore to the punch by a matter of months, Robin Spry’s grim and gritty gutter-level drama is driven by a not-dissimilar premise, that of a man searching the seedy urban underbelly for his drug-addicted prostitute daughter. Rather astonishing that it was made for TV – the remarkably bleak opening indicates that no punches are going to be pulled, as we first see Peter Brennan (Don Francks), before the credits have even finished rolling, nodding out in a grimy cafe toilet, the needle still sticking out of his arm. This is followed by howling hospital cold turkey, as a borderline sadistic cop plays Peter a slide show of a drug-addicted girl forced into sex work, before revealing that said girl is Peter’s own daughter. We then get to see said slide show again in harrowing close-up, while Peter wails ever louder. So, once recovered, and with regular...

Chicago – Now that Wes Anderson’s marvelous “Moonrise Kingdom” has finally received a much-belated wide release, it’s an ideal time for audiences to revisit Bill Murray’s first cinematic excursion to summer camp. Ivan Reitman’s 1979 hit, “Meatballs,” is famous primary for giving the SNL vet his first starring role, which is appropriate considering Murray is the only reason worth watching it.

As far as “snobs vs. slobs” farces of the ’70s go, “Meatballs” is a passable but wholly unremarkable escapist lark. It assembles a series of misfit stereotypes—the clueless nerd, the fat kid, the guy who can’t help blowing stuff up—and has them go through the motions. There isn’t a single gag involving the hapless counselors-in-training at Camp North Star that is the least bit funny or surprising. Half of the film’s 99-minute running time is so tiresome that it will undoubtedly lead...