exchanging silent flirtation amid the crack of gunfire is stupidly romantic btw… obsessed w/ them.

credit where credit is due: heart eyes is incredibly committed to the shtick, and i genuinely appreciate and ire that dedication. however, i’m not as enamored with the protagonists. i could not sit through another ten minutes of their banter… please, movie, let’s see more of those creative (themed) kills instead of having exposition simply tell us they happened. show me the crimes, babe! rip out more hearts, idk!

a guy named “slater king” is literally destined to have a lotus flower island where he abuses women, like it might as well be rich people prophecy 101.

FINALLY, a horror movie for all the STEM girls who pour a little too much of themselves into their research! <3

some visionary out there pitched “cinderella meets evil dead” and then proceeded to allocate the bulk of the budget to party city costumes soaked in fake blood, accompanied by a single children’s book as the sole source of research.

promising idea to cinematic disaster pipeline is real and it is sturdy.

the “i’ll find you in any lifetime” trope, but make it a lynchian masterpiece starring two of the most unsettling actors of our time. fucking delicious!

“there she weaves by night and day, a magic web with colours gay… and moving thro' a mirror clear that hangs before her all the year, shadows of the world appear.” — the lady of shallot, 1842

i fear tennyson may have possessed plante in order to direct this masterpiece… i’m gonna need some time to unpack the literary analysis that i have building up in me rn. brb.

movie is so right, god is a woman and she created the clicker knock-offs to keep us drug-induced homo sapiens in line. hell yeah!

on another note, those special fx were grotesquely beautiful… but the story lacked substance to a severe degree.

you’d think a slasher where a chainsmoking final girl anakin skywalkers her serial killer ex-boyfriend would be so much more entertaining… alas! not a single golden chainsaw in this whole movie.

do not cite the deep magic (self-important ‘grittiness’ of art) to me, witch (you pretentious asshole). i was there when it was written (on tumblr when i was thirteen).

you know the protagonists SUCK when i start rooting for the cockblocking murderers.