Daniel Boyd

If you want to watch a show that’s pretty mindless, kinda funny, and unexpectedly insightful when it comes to psychology; and manages to highlight how ridiculous some of the “woke” stuff can get (without even realizing it)… then Mythic Quest might be your jam. It takes itself just seriously enough to accidentally show how silly it all is. It’s like watching satire without the writers knowing they’re making satire. Weirdly entertaining. Surprisingly telling.

“Drag Me to Hell” isn’t just a horror movie—it’s a morality play drenched in supernatural absurdity, where seemingly every character is flawed to the point of being downright terrible. From the cursed Christine Brown to her classist boyfriend’s mother, the film populates its world with people who might deserve a karmic slap but instead get an over-the-top Sam Raimi-style sledgehammer. At its core, the film follows Christine, a loan officer who denies an elderly woman, Sylvia Ganush, an extension on her mortgage to impress her boss. This decision unleashes a curse that turns Christine’s life into a grotesque, karmic nightmare. While Christine is portrayed as a victim of her own ambition, she’s far from a saint. Her moral compass falters as she sacrifices everything—even her own cat—in a desperate bid to save herself. And yet, her boyfriend Clay insists she has “a good heart.” Does she, though? The film’s brilliance lies in how it makes you question that claim at every turn. Clay, on the other hand, is supportive but frustratingly passive. He offers comforting platitudes and financial privilege but fails to challenge his overbearing, classist mother, who undermines Christine at every opportunity. His mother, embodying elitism at its worst, provides yet another example of how even the “normal” characters in this film are deeply flawed. The hypocrisy and judgment surrounding Christine only add to her descent into chaos. Even Sylvia Ganush, the wronged party, is no saint. While Christine’s decision to deny her the loan is harsh, Sylvia’s response—cursing Christine to eternal damnation—feels more than a little excessive. Ganush’s grotesque, vindictive character straddles the line between tragic victim and monstrous force, amplifying the film’s darkly comedic tone. Director Sam Raimi layers this tale with the campy horror and visceral gags he’s known for, blending moments of genuine terror with absurdly grotesque humor. It’s a masterclass in tonal whiplash, where morality feels as slippery as the fluids Raimi gleefully splashes across the screen. But what makes Drag Me to Hell so fascinating is its commentary on karma and moral relativism. Nobody here is truly good or bad—just selfish in their own ways. Christine’s ambition and desperation, Clay’s passivity, his mother’s judgmental elitism, and Ganush’s over-the-top revenge all paint a picture of a world where everyone is complicit in their own downfall. Even Christine’s poor cat, a true innocent, doesn’t escape unscathed. Raimi’s world is one where moral compromise has immediate and catastrophic consequences. In the end, Drag Me to Hell isn’t about heroes or villains—it’s about the messy, selfish choices people make when their backs are against the wall. And while the film delivers its karmic justice with a gleeful sense of humor, it doesn’t let you off the hook for questioning whether anyone here deserved to be saved. Final Verdict: A darkly comedic morality tale wrapped in Raimi’s signature gross-out horror, Drag Me to Hell is a wild ride through a world where even the “good” characters aren’t so good. Whether you find that satisfying or frustrating depends on how much you enjoy watching terrible people meet their karmic doom.

People who enjoy the Terrifier films are thrill-seekers with a high tolerance for discomfort, drawn to the raw exploration of humanity’s darkest impulses and the cathartic, taboo-breaking adrenaline rush of extreme fiction.

It Ends With Us oversimplifies the complex dynamics of abusive relationships. Abuse is typically a gradual process that begins with emotional manipulation long before physical violence. The film portrays sudden, explosive violence, which misrepresents the reality that emotional abuse often precedes physical harm. Leaving an abusive relationship is far from straightforward. Research shows that victims attempt to leave multiple times before succeeding, and the risk of violence increases significantly during and after the attempt to leave. The film portrays Lily leaving after one major incident, which oversimplifies the real complexities and dangers involved. The psychological concept of trauma bonding, where victims remain tied to their abusers due to intermittent affection and cruelty, is absent in the movie. This type of manipulation is central to abusive relationships and is missing from the portrayal, leaving the narrative shallow. Despite these inaccuracies, many viewers enjoyed the dramatic storyline. The clear villain and satisfying resolution align with audience expectations for romantic dramas. However, this approach blinds viewers to the real complexities of abusive relationships. To truly represent abuse, films must focus on the gradual emotional erosion caused by coercive control, rather than singular violent outbursts. Accurate portrayals are critical to educating viewers about the real challenges survivors face and reducing harmful stereotypes.

The 2024 Salem’s Lot remake is a frustratingly missed opportunity, especially given the anticipation following the success of the ‘It’ remake part one and two. Much like the ill-received Pet Sematary remake, this adaptation falters by missing one of the key elements that make Stephen King’s works so impactful—his deeply layered character development. Without well-developed characters, viewers struggle to feel invested in the story, which is critical in a narrative where the human element of fear and survival is central. King’s novels typically draw you in with characters you care about, but here, they seem like mere plot devices. One of the film’s biggest flaws is its pacing. By cramming the entire story into a single feature under 2 hours, the filmmakers cut corners on building tension and depth. The It remakes succeeded partly because they were given room to breathe, split into two parts, and allowed the narrative to unfold at a natural pace. Had Salem’s Lot been given the same treatment, it likely would have fared much better. The decision to condense such a rich and atmospheric story into a single film robs it of its potential, resulting in a jarring and disjointed viewing experience. That said, there are glimpses of what could have been. The film has some genuinely creative and visually striking scenes, but they often feel out of place, as if they belong in a more cohesive and fully realized version of the movie. These moments suggest that perhaps there was more footage or content originally planned, but much of it may have been left on the cutting room floor, possibly to fit a tighter runtime. This makes the film feel incomplete, and you can’t help but wonder what was lost in the editing process. In the end, adapting a Stephen King novel like Salem’s Lot in under four hours is an incredibly tough task. The story demands time for the slow build of dread and the complex interplay between characters, elements that this remake simply didn’t have room to explore. While it has flashes of potential, it ultimately falls short of capturing the essence of King’s work, leaving it more in line with other mediocre attempts to bring his stories to the screen. If you’re a die-hard King fan, you might appreciate some of the creative choices here, but for most, this remake will likely be a disappointment. The film’s lack of depth, pacing issues, and the sensation of missing material make it a lesser entry in the catalog of King adaptations. For future Stephen King adaptations, respect the scope of his novels by considering multi-part films or series, allowing the story to unfold naturally without rushing. Focus on character depth to create an emotional connection with the audience, which enhances the horror. Also, balance pacing to maintain tension, ensuring key moments are not lost in favor of runtime constraints. This approach ensures that the rich atmosphere and complex themes in King’s works are given room to thrive.

A well-executed warning by men, for men, to never get married; all skillfully hidden in a Dunning-Krugeresque narrative designed to leave many women (and men, apparently) believing that it’s about men being all the same. As the ending song says: “Freedom the lesson we must learn. Do you know what I mean? Have your eyes really seen? Love is what we came here for, no one could offer you more. Do you know what I mean? Have your eyes really seen?” Well done!

Honestly, it’s just a bad movie. Characters aren’t believable, dialogue is terrible all the way down to the pacing. Combat tactics and gunplay completely irrational. People don’t even act in real life the way they do in this movie. I shut it off 1/2 way in, no need to watch it further. That’s 45 minutes I’ll never get back.