Shannyn Sossamon

As the ghoul from the 2012 horror hit stalks a new family, this sequel's sharply well-crafted set-up leaves the hackneyed conclusion feeling very disappointing. Up until the trite horror finale, the film is a terrific mix of complex characters and twisted relationships, with a palpable sense of underlying menace. But instead of grappling with the ramifications of the human drama, the screenwriters opt for simplistic violence instead.

The dorky deputy (James Ransone) from the first film has left the force but is still determined to stop the horror from happening again. Then he arrives at the "infected" farmhouse and finds single mother Courtney (Shannyn Sossamon) hiding out there with her feuding pre-teen sons Dylan and Zach (played by real-life siblings Robert Daniel and Dartanian Sloan). And her abusive husband Clint (Lea Coco) wants custody. But the boys have already been contacted by the creepy gang of ghost kids who have horrifically murdered their families and documented this in home movies that they show to Dylan each night. To appease the boogeyman, Dylan needs to do the same, and if he can't, they might be able to use Zach.

Frankly, Clint is a much scarier monster than the sinister spirit lurking in seemingly every dark corner in this movie. And Zach has learned from his dad how to be a seriously cruel bully. Director Ciaran Foy generates intensity in both the real-world and supernatural elements of this story, inventively creating visually stylish freak-out moments that have genuine peril attached. In this situation, the actors create strikingly authentic characters, from Ransone's likeably goofy deputy to Sossamon's steely, tenacious mother hen. And the Sloan brothers add a superb sense of sibling tension, mingling anger and frustration with real emotion. So when things begin to snap between all of them, the film becomes genuinely heart-stopping. Then the ghosts take over and it's not quite so thrilling.

Continue reading: Sinister 2 Review

Naturally, Victoria gets separated and spends the next hour-plus running around in the catacombs in her boots (has Sossamon ever appeared in a movie in heels? just wondering), being chased by, you guessed it, a dude in a goat-head mask. He doesn't stop, no matter how injured Victoria gets or how many people she encounters get killed... until the end, when one of cinema's most absurd twist endings of all time gets sprung on you.

Continue reading: Catacombs Review

One of the more gratifying feelings a movie critic can have is the feeling of going into a picture expecting tiresome clichés of an overplayed genre, only to discover delightfully surprising freshness and soul where all the hackneyed conventions usually are.

"40 Days and 40 Nights" is such a movie. Misleadingly marketed as just another misogynistic romp through the young male libido, this often ribald comedy about a frustrated 20-something giving up sex for Lent is what the puerile, simplistic "American Pie," "Tomcats" and "Saving Silverman" might have been, had they been made by people with imagination and wit.

Directed by Michael Lehmann -- the man behind the twisted teen angst and irony of the subversive '80s cult hit "Heathers" -- "40 Days" finds many new and inventive ways to make sexual frustration funny.

Continue reading: 40 Days & 40 Nights Review

Like an episode of MTV's barely-legal late-night dorm life soap "Undressed," with 20 times the creativity but without any more substance, "The Rules of Attraction" is a stylish, glib, endemically energetic diversion that's indulgently entertaining but could have and should have been deeper.

Enthusiastically adapted by Roger Avery (co-writer of "Pulp Fiction" and writer-director of "Killing Zoe") from the whimsically subversive novel by Bret Easton Ellis, it's a black comedy about the feral underbelly of modern campus life, full of cinematic invention but narrative superficiality.

Populated by teen-TV lightweight types trying to gain edgy credibility, "Rules" stars James Van Der Beek ("Dawson's Creek") in the movie's most resonant performance as antihero Sean Bateman, a deviant college cool-jerk -- who, for the trivia-minded, is the younger brother of the title character in Ellis's "American Psycho."

Continue reading: The Rules Of Attraction Review

By now you've heard about the concept of "A Knight's Tale" and had the time to become justifiably dubious. A 14th Century jousting adventure set to the tune of guitar rock stadium anthems? How could that possibly be anything short of laughable?

The answer is -- well, I don't know exactly. But when, five minutes into the movie, a crowd of peasants at a jousting tournament starts stomping feet in time and bellowing "We will/We will/Rock You!" (and soon thereafter do "the wave"), I defy you not to grin an aw-what-the-heck grin and go along for the ride.

The story itself isn't much more than a dressed-up, time-warped sports underdog yarn, in which the lowborn hero ("The Patriot's" jaunty Heath Ledger) poses as a knight (only those of noble birth are allowed to compete) and becomes the toast of the jousting world. But in the hands of writer-director Brian Helgeland (who helmed "Payback" and co-wrote "L.A. Confidential"), the movie's cliché-spawn chassis is merely a jumping-off point for a jocular, undeflatable, high energy theme-park ride of action, wisecracks and romance.

Continue reading: A Knight's Tale Review

The Catholic church has been a source of inspiration for a whole slew of scary movies -- everything from goosepimpling tales of possession like "The Exorcist" to fact-based stories of institutionalized horror like the current art-house hit "The Magdalene Sisters."

But mostly these scary movies have not been all that frightening. In fact, mostly they've been forgettably cheap-fright thrillers that make up their own mythology, then dress it up in cassocks and clerical collars for mock-credibility, much like "The Order."

This dark supernatural thriller about a brooding young man of the cloth (lumpy-featured heartthrob Heath Ledger) in the midst of a major crisis of faith (there's this girl, see...) is loosely based on an archaic con offered to ex-communicated sinners on their deathbeds in Medieval times: Someone calling himself a "sin eater" would perform a ceremony in which, for a price, he would assume all the dying person's transgressions and guilt so he or she would be free to enter Heaven.

Continue reading: The Order Review