nERDbOX_Dave

Hollywood's obsession with requels continues, and I Know What You Did Last Summer (2025) is the latest franchise revival trying to strike a balance between nostalgia and modern horror trends. Directed by Jennifer Kaytin Robinson and co-written with Sam Lansky from a story by Leah McKendrick and Robinson, this fourth entry skips over the 2006 third film (I'll Always Know What You Did Last Summer) entirely and honestly, that's probably for the best. Unfortunately, while this new installment has some bright spots, it ultimately lands as an okay slasher with a lot of missed opportunities.

The best part of this film is its clever explanation for why the murders are happening again. Without diving into spoilers, the logic is sound, and the setup works in the context of the franchise. It's one of the few moments where the story really locks in and delivers something that feels worthy of its legacy. But if you came for heightened gore or a deeper exploration of Julie James (Jennifer Love Hewitt), the heart of the original films, you're going to walk away disappointed.

Despite being billed as a true sequel to I Still Know What You Did Last Summer (1998), Julie gets about 10 minutes of screen time, and her absence is felt. Her character arc and especially her complicated history with Ray (Freddie Prinze Jr.) is barely acknowledged. Instead, we spend most of our time with a new group of characters, some of whom are compelling, but many of whom lead us down paths that go nowhere. Scenes often start with strong setups, hinting at twists or emotional beats, only to drop the thread mid-scene or abandon it completely.

The supporting cast gives it a solid go. Madelyn Cline and Chase Sui Wonders are standouts, doing the best they can with material that sometimes feels underbaked. The slasher elements are serviceable there are a few well crafted chase sequences and one or two kills that lean into the original's suspenseful tone-but for a film trying to update a beloved horror franchise, the tension never quite clicks the way it should.

And then... the last five minutes. The film's closing scenes, including a bizarre mid-credits moment, are jarring in the worst way. The tone completely shifts, the dialogue feels clunky and disconnected from the rest of the film, and it reeks of a late-stage reshoot. Not only does it undo some of the narrative groundwork laid earlier, but it ends the film on a sour, head-scratching note that leaves you wondering what the filmmakers were trying to say if anything.

This new I Know What You Did Last Summer isn't a total misfire, but it never rises above mediocrity. It gets points for some clever plotting and a few tense sequences, but it falls short where it counts, especially in sidelining Julie James, the very soul of the franchise. For die-hard fans, it's worth a one-time watch.

Skill House arrives as yet another indie horror project clawing its way into a limited theatrical release via Fathom Events, hoping to join the growing list of low-budget gems tapping into our digital age paranoia. But while films like Spree, Stream, and Dark Game found ways to blend horror and online culture with raw energy, Skill House stumbles over its own premise with frustrating execution and a lack of, well... anything to root for.

The film centers on 10 top-tier influencers who wake up in a hellish streaming nightmare, kidnapped, trapped, and forced to participate in a brutal, live streamed social media survival game. It's the kind of setup that screams modern slasher gold: commentary on fame obsession, influencer culture, and viral notoriety, with blood and body count to match. Unfortunately, the execution is more cringe than clever.

Right from the start, the movie kneecaps itself.

Before the first frame even rolls, a well-meaning intro by director Josh Stolberg and one of the stars essentially spoils the ending. In a genre built on tension, misdirection, and surprise, this was a huge misstep-especially for a theatrical experience where the unknown is half the thrill. It's a head-scratcher of a move and sadly, the movie never quite recovers from it.

The characters? Disposable and annoying-by design. You're not really supposed to like anyone in Skill House, and that's part of the point. These are influencers engineered for maximum social media toxicity. But unlike the Netflix reboot of Texas Chainsaw Massacre, where hating the cast made their deaths gleeful crowd pleasers, here it just results in apathy. There's no rooting interest, no investment, no memorable personalities just a series of TikTok shaped placeholders wandering from trap to trap.

A good slasher lives and dies on three pillars: the killer's look, the quality of the kill bait, and the kills themselves. Skill House fumbles two out of three. The killer's mask a clumsy, derivative riff on the Brandon James mask from Scream: The TV Series, feels like an afterthought. The kills? Outside of one genuinely creative and brutal moment (which I won't spoil), they're largely forgettable. I had to genuinely think back to recall any of them, which is never a good sign for a film promising carnage.

The dialogue is intentionally obnoxious, playing up influencer stereotypes and Gen-Z speak, but it wears thin fast. The script introduces some interesting ideas a global audience watching the bloodshed, other streamers reacting in real time, the commodification of violence but none of these threads are explored with any real depth. You can feel the influence of better films like Stream and Dark Game, but Skill House doesn't carve out its own identity. It's less a love letter to horror and more a mashup of viral culture buzzwords with blood spatter.

Skill House is not offensively bad, just frustratingly forgettable-a missed opportunity in a time when horror needs bold voices with something to say.

Abraham's Boys had all the right ingredients to be a horror hit: a chilling premise, rich source material from Joe Hill, and the pedigree of Natasha Kermani (Lucky) behind the camera. Positioned as a Dracula sequel through the lens of trauma, inheritance, and paranoia, the film sets its sights high, but sadly, this Shudder release ends up being more of a missed opportunity than a memorable fright.

The story follows Max and Rudy Van Helsing, two teenage brothers raised under the increasingly unhinged rule of their father, Abraham Van Helsing-the same Van Helsing who helped destroy Dracula decades ago. While the Dracula novel is treated canonically (minus the final, somewhat tidy epilogue), this film is more of a slow-burn domestic horror than a vampire thriller. Unfortunately, the burn is too slow, and the tension fizzles before it truly ignites.

The film clearly aims to explore generational trauma through a Gothic lens, what it's like to grow up with a father scarred by monsters both literal and psychological. That concept is compelling, and the moments that touch on this theme are some of the strongest. Watching Max and Rudy slowly piece together the dark legacy they've inherited, and realize their father's madness may be rooted in terrifying truth, should be captivating.

But here's the problem: while watching it, I couldn't help but be reminded of another, better film and I found myself wanting to leave the theater to watch it instead. Revealing that title will be a major spoiler.

That's not to say it's a total loss. But that's part of the frustration: Abraham's Boys has so much potential. For those curious about Van Helsing's tragic legacy, it might be worth a watch-but only with tempered expectations. There's a much better film buried somewhere in here, but like Dracula himself, it never fully rises from the grave.