
Hounds of Love movie review: serial-killer porn
Lurid, pointless thriller teases us with a teenaged girl’s sexual and mortal peril, creating awful suspense around her abuse. Her terror is your titillation.

Lurid, pointless thriller teases us with a teenaged girl’s sexual and mortal peril, creating awful suspense around her abuse. Her terror is your titillation.

Simple, yet stupid. A magic box grants a teen wishes… that don’t come free. Apparently they’re not making eighth graders read “The Monkey’s Paw” anymore.

Filmmaker-to-watch Ana Lily Amirpour again shakes up a familiar genre — here, the postapocalyptic adventure — in unexpected ways, but stumbles a bit in the process.

A rote disappointment. There is nothing shocking or even mildly unexpected here. But there is an ironic weakening of the power of the xenomorphs to terrify.

Cinema as a punch in the gut and not for the squeamish, casting female desire as ravenously predatory in a way that few films have ever had the audacity to do.

A one-note scenario that never ups the ante on itself, and never even bothers to use its extreme situation to send up office politics or corporate policies.

It’s Lovecraft by way of The Thing and Alien in this satisfyingly schlocky 80s throwback, complete with practical FX. A genuinely eerie experience.

Muddy and muddled 70s-style backwoods gothic Americana only comes to life when it rises to the accidentally silly. Little more than an incoherent showreel.

Shattering and deep-down bone-chilling. A viciously unsettling nightmare of race and privilege that carves out a much-needed paradigm shift for genre film.

A wonder of low-budget suspense, this is a horror movie with no monsters, only people in an impossible situation. Intense, claustrophobic, totally gripping.