nERDbOX_Dave

In a year flooded with high-budget remakes and safe studio offerings, The Death of Snow White emerges like a blood-soaked dagger in a field of plastic swords. Written, directed, and produced by Jason Brooks, known to horror fans as the terrifyingly physical Jason Voorhees in Friday the 13th: Bloodlines. This $1.2 million indie horror reimagining of the classic fairy tale isn't just bold... it's brutal. And more importantly, it's good.

Unlike Disney's own lifeless live-action attempt, Brooks doesn't hold back. The Death of Snow White takes the bones of the original tale and reanimates them with twisted intent. We follow Snow White (played with grit and vulnerability by Sanae Loutsis) not through a magical woodland filled with animals and dwarfs whistling while they work-but into a nightmare realm of gnarled trees, blood magic, and a pack of deranged, vengeful dwarves who make the seven from your childhood look like Teletubbies in comparison.

And while I'm not typically a fan of fantasy (ask me about The Lord of the Rings and I'll tell you once was enough), this film doesn't feel like a fantasy in the traditional sense. It's horror first, dark fantasy second... an eerie, dirt under the nails kind of experience where the forest feels alive and the danger is always one breath away.

The standout here, though, is Chelsea Edmundson as the Evil Queen. Obsession with beauty has always been the core of the character, but this version takes it to a chilling extreme. Edmundson sinks her teeth into the role, creating a villain who is captivating, terrifying, and disturbingly real. Her scenes pulse with menace, and her descent into madness and vanity fueled cruelty is the film's black heart. This might just be the best version of the Evil Queen we've ever seen on screen.

What's most impressive, though, is how much Brooks pulls off with so little. For a mere $1.2 million budget, this film delivers on atmosphere, gore, and world-building in a way that makes Disney's $240 million effort look like a bloated costume party. It's proof that vision and tone matter more than pixels and polish.

The Death of Snow White is a dark fairy tale done right, bold, bloody, and refreshingly unafraid to push boundaries. Even if you don't typically enjoy fantasy, the horror elements, strong performances, and razor-sharp direction make this one worth your time. Jason Brooks has crafted something twisted and special, and Chelsea Edmundson's Evil Queen is one for the horror hall of fame.

If you're the kind of genre fan who can't get enough of Cooties, Night of the Creeps, or Jack Brooks: Monster Slayer, then Joseph Kahn's ICK is your next late-night obsession. Equal parts slime soaked satire, throwback creature feature, and goofball gorefest, ICK is a B-movie with A-level confidence, a film that knows exactly what it is and owns it every gloriously gooey step of the way.

Brandon Routh delivers another enjoyable performances as Hank Wallace, a washed-up high school football star turned reluctant science teacher with a personal grudge against mediocrity, and now, apparently, aliens (I think). When a parasitic lifeform begins infecting his sleepy hometown, he's forced to team up with sharp witted student Grace (Malina Weissman, absolutely owning every line) to save the world or at least their zip code.

The script balances absurdity and affection with surprising finesse. While the satire could have easily veered into "try-hard" territory, it never does. Instead, it feels right, organic, self-aware, and just grounded enough to work. Think They Live, but with alien goo and gym class trauma.

Let's talk about that goo. The CGI? Well... it's fine. Serviceable. Some of the larger-scale creature shots look like they were rendered on a monster energy drink budget, but honestly, it just adds to the film's low-fi charm. Would practical effects have elevated it? Absolutely. But in fairness, some of the creature sequences are too bonkers to pull off practically without quadrupling the budget. Thankfully, the film leans into its own ridiculousness, never pretending to be more polished than it is.

Where ICK really surprises is in its heart. Beneath the eye-rolling puns, exploding heads, and sarcastic monologues, there's a genuine emotional throughline. Hank's journey from burnout to unlikely hero has weight.

ICK is exactly what the horror-comedy genre needs more of bold, messy fun with a sharp bite. It's not trying to win awards. It's trying to make you laugh, scream, cheer, and say, "What the hell did I just watch?" and in that, it completely succeeds.

Monster Island is a World War II-era creature feature that swings for the fences with a bold genre mashup: part survival thriller, part war drama, part folklore-fueled monster flick. Directed by Mike Wiluan (Buffalo Boys), and inspired by Malay mythology and classic films like Creature from the Black Lagoon, the movie feels like a love letter to mid-century horror wrapped in the rugged grit of a wartime survival tale.

The setup is promising. A Japanese soldier and a British POW are marooned on a remote island during WWII, forced to put aside their hatred and histories to survive. But it's not just each other, or the encroaching Japanese military they have to worry about. Something hungry stalks the jungle, able to camouflage itself like a chameleon, striking from the shadows with lethal precision. Think The Defiant Ones meets Predator, with a splash of Southeast Asian folklore.

It's a clever concept, and the film wears its influences proudly. The callbacks to The Defiant Ones aren't subtle, nor are the nods to classic monster movie tropes: the slow reveal of the creature in the dense jungle. When the film leans into its atmosphere, it works. There are stretches where you feel the tension between the two men just as much as the threat lurking in the trees.

Unfortunately, the execution doesn't always live up to the potential. The CGI creature design is interesting-drawing on mythical elements instead of going full Hollywood-but the visual effects themselves are... well, rough. The monster too often looks like it belongs in a Syfy original from the early 2000s, standing out awkwardly from the environment rather than blending in. That disconnect pulled me out of the experience, and while I try not to judge a film solely on its visual effects, they do matter in a creature feature... especially one built on stealth, camouflage, and primal terror.

Storywise, it's serviceable. The relationship between the two leads carries enough emotional weight to keep the film moving, and the pacing never drags. There are a few solid gore moments, but nothing that will shock seasoned horror fans. The ending, while not bad, lands right where you expect it to a little too safe for a film that tries to position itself as something unique.

For fans of offbeat monster movies or those with a soft spot for war-horror hybrids, Monster Island is a solid watch. It might not break new ground, but there's enough here-folklore inspiration, tension between enemies, turned-allies, and a cool creature concept to justify its runtime. For me personally, the movie didn't quite hit the right notes. I love a good creature feature, but I'm easily turned off by poor CGI and uneven tone. Still, there are many flavors of horror, and this one might just be the right bite for someone else.