All posts by Rod Lott

Deadly Games (1982)

Following the mysterious death of her sister, mushroom-haired journalist Keegan (Jo Ann Harris, Rape Squad) comes back to town to find answers. More questions arise, because a ski-masked murderer is on the loose, and he makes his decisions based on a literal roll of the dice for a monster-themed board game clearly colored by highlighters. Deadly Games, get it?

Upon meeting Keegan, the cop on the case (Sam Groom, Hanging by a Thread) investigates only how to crack open that reporter’s notebook, if you catch my drift. The cop is war buddies with the town loner (Steve Railsback, Turkey Shoot), who smokes cigarettes of Virginia Slims length despite severe asthma. So goes putting the pieces into place for this semi-slasher, kind of a Peyton Place take on masked-killer material. It doesn’t entirely work, but is interesting for toying with what was already a trite formula.

One of the game’s spaces reads, “Find harlot in pub.” I didn’t see one marked, “Drown Colleen Camp by tying her ankle to the swimming pool drain with a wire,” yet that happens. Keegan practically flirts with death by doing incredibly stupid things, like staying in her sister’s house alone overnight without bothering to repair the floor-to-ceiling window an intruder crashed through. At the very least, I’d Scotch-tape some cardboard or seams-ripped garbage bags before even so much thinking about taking a shower.

That may be the least annoying thing Keegan does. Harris’ performance screams “theater kid.” She’s constantly cracking jokes, talking to herself, muttering under her breath or basically never not flapping her gums. Combine Keegan’s inability to shut up with her high degree of self-absorption — her sister’s death seems to bother her so little, she doesn’t check in on her mother (June Lockhart, 1986’s Troll) until a day after rolling into town — and it’s utterly exhausting to watch.

When your Final Girl acts more unhinged than Railsback of all typecast people, that’s a problem! How much of Keegan’s oxygen-sucking, attention-whoring nonsense is Harris’ take or the work of neophyte writer/director Scott Mansfield, I know not. But Harris is so into it, I’m inclined to blame her.

What I can attribute to Mansfield (Imps*) are two truly impressive shots, both involving the eye, both worthy of a giallo, even if one is limited by effects available at the time and budget. Another memorable shot is Deadly Games’ final, for entirely other, perfectly bonkers reasons. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.

Ghost in the Cell (2026)

Jojo Anwar’s Ghost in the Cell trafficks in all the tropes of the male prison pic: a tyrannical warden, solitary confinement, drug gangs, slop as food, the threat of shower rape and so on. Its market differentiator, however, is a malevolent spirit that tears, twists and turns its murder victims into grotesque death tableaux à la TV’s Hannibal.

Enlisting several of his Satan’s Slaves actors, Anwar focuses on fresh meat Dimas (Endy Arfian), a meek journalist wrongly convicted for the killing of his abusive boss. The actual culprit is the wraith, which follows Dimas behind bars and takes the corporeal form of its targets during slaughter (thereby distinguishing itself from Renny Harlin’s Prison). It’s like seeing double, except only one is covered in trypophobic skin. As the ghost makes its way from prisoner to prisoner, they shout themselves hoarse over this supernatural force.

Predictably, Ghost in the Cell excels in these sequences, from the initial skirmish to the reveal of the resulting macabre centerpiece, borrowing pieces of Riki-Oh’s operatic insanity in between. As the minutes tick by, the level of humor increases, and unfortunately, that’s where the Indonesian film misses.

Perhaps chalked up to a clash of cultures, the comedy is broader and even slapstickier than what this country’s accustomed to — a pube-laden bar of soap for a sight gag, sure; a full-on dance scene choreographed by an effeminate inmate, you can keep it. And when the dancing extends to a joyous cast-and-crew montage during the closing credits, you’ve effectively neutered all the bite that came before. —Rod Lott

In theaters Friday, Oct. 2.

Doppelganger (1993)

Accurately, Doppelganger is not what it first seems — not an erotic thriller, that is. I mean, it is, but that’s not all it is. If you recognize the names of the KNB EFX Group founders in the opening titles, you’re given a big ol’ hint.

Playing against preppy type, George Newbern (Adventures in Babysitting) has zero game as socially awkward screenwriter Patrick Highsmith seeking a roomie to share his L.A. apartment. In walks Holly Gooding (Drew Barrymore, E.T. — heard of it?) to claim the space. Patrick’s so smitten with Holly, he can’t get enough of her … so you think having two of her around might be a plus!

Holly’s spitting image stalks Patrick around town, but this Hitchcocked double is also insatiably plunging knives into people. The first victim is a middle-aged rando played by Jaid Barrymore, Drew’s real-life mother. (Wish fulfillment much?)

Somehow, neither Patrick nor his live-wired writing partner (Leslie Hope, Bruiser) know what a “doppelganger” is. The very idea of an evil twin vexes these WGA wannabes. When she’s not trying to convince Patrick he’s in danger, Hope’s character rattles off hopelessly dopey dialogue like, “Watch your dick, pinhead!”

I can’t say how well Barrymore benefits from Doppelganger alone. But look at it as part of her haughty, naughty parade of the early ’90s (Poison Ivy, Sketch Artist and TV’s The Amy Fisher Story), and all makes sense. She worked hard to rehabilitate her rep as a coked-up child actor. Lest viewers hold any doubt and still think of her as a Firestarter (twisted Firestarter!), the opening credits play over her shrink (Dennis Christopher, Fade to Black) pawing her shirtless bod as she writhes in orgasmic glee.

Need more proof? Thrill as Barrymore dances seductively, knees Danny Trejo (Machete) in the nuts, slow-motion showers in orange-tinted blood and gets crucified on the bedroom wall. And it works.

As cut-rate (pun intended) De Palma, Doppelganger places stakes in the ground of camp and gradually grows campier, dragging your attention along with it. As incredulous as the plot gets and the level of hysterics the performances reach, you’re still ill-prepared for what writer/director Avi Nesher (Timebomb) cooked up for the climax. It’s an all-time howler I shan’t spoil. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.

Hellbilly Hollow (2026)

Four internet investigators known as the Paranormal Scream Team travel to check out Alabama’s Hellbilly Hollow haunted house and hayride. Reportedly, the woods around the property are haunted.

Would it surprise you to learn the attraction is home to a killer clown named Tickles? If so, Hellbilly Hollow might make you defecate your britches. Or so the miserable movie hopes, judging by three references to characters doing just that.

Running the place is a former carny turned hog and soybean farmer Bull, played by Kurt Deimer (2024’s Scared to Death) because Sid Haig is no longer available. The mute Tickles (Kevin Wayne, Malum), who lives in a school bus and eats from a cooler marked “MEEAT,” carries out Bull’s bidding, such as murdering three teens kicked out for messing with the talent, yet somehow are able to re-enter and spray-paint a spurting dick on the wall.

Any initial viewer interest is sapped by the sudden introduction of a supernatural element: the CGI specter of a vengeful voodoo priestess turned fortune teller (Kaila Little). In doing so, Hellbilly Hollow bites off more than it can chew, much less plug between its cheek and gum. It wants to be both a slasher and a ghost story, which operate differently. It’s not like Hollow couldn’t decide which to be; I suspect the idea of choosing never crossed the filmmakers’ minds.

Yet that split personality is not what sinks the pic. It’s simply relentlessly stupid, poorly written and performed even worse. Had it showcased the carnival games of darts and dunk tanks and the like as a hook, Hellbilly Hollow might have emerged as a gut-spiller worthy of “spooky season” priming, but these sequences are barely present and mostly incidental. One thinks Herschell Gordon Lewis coulda shoulda woulda milked that concept into a bloody good time. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.

The Stunt Driver (2026)

For American youngsters in the 1970s, myself included, star-spangled daredevil Evel Knievel was a real-life superhero. The dude was all over network TV; his Stunt Cycle was one of the hottest toys; and Hollywood even made two movies about him. (The internet didn’t exist, so we didn’t know any better.) 

But Ken Carter, the self-proclaimed “Mad Canadian”? Never heard of the guy. Until now, with Michael Dowse’s riotous biopic, The Stunt Driver, starring BlackBerry’s Jay Baruchel as Carter. Having zero knowledge of Carter makes the movie work even more in your favor, so don’t go a-Googling. 

Just know this: In 1976, the cross-eyed, adoration-hungry Carter yearns to out-Evel his U.S. rival with a milelong jump over the St. Lawrence River in a rocket car at about 280 mph. Ignore, as he does, that he can’t swim; doesn’t matter, as long as he secures the services of Dick Keller (Ed Helms, The Hangover trilogy), Chicago creator of the Blue Flame, the fastest car in the world. 

Working as director and writer, Dowse (Goon) traces Keller and Carter’s efforts — respectively pragmatic and foolhardy — toward a shared goal. At least both men have physics on their side. It’s a pleasure to see Helms cede doofus duties for once, doing superb work as essentially the straight man to Baruchel’s well-meaning motormouth. Carter’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, in part because he can’t afford a shed. That risks turning the subject into a caricature, but Baruchel is too skilled. (In my mind, he’s no longer “the kid from TV’s Undeclared” first and foremost.) His is a real performance; you root for Carter, despite his voluminous naïveté.

As the woman who loves him regardless, Laurence Leboeuf (Turbo Kid) grounds The Stunt Driver with support and sanity. She’s an excellent actress who deserves a little more to do. There’s a lot of love to go around for the ensemble, including Ben Foster (2011’s The Mechanic) nailing the smarm in an Evel cameo and especially Joe Cobden (2010’s Devil) as the filmmaker shooting a documentary about Carter’s fast and furious folly. The real-life result, 1981’s The Devil at Your Heels, informs Dowse’s script and provides footage of Carter’s various feats. 

With as many great scenes as it has broken bones, The Stunt Driver revs in as an unexpected gem — a rowdy, winning comedy about a man whose ambition hit heights his souped-up vehicles could never achieve. It’s mighty funny and deeply moving, in both senses of the word. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.