Anyone expecting the epic battle promised by the title of Frankenstein vs. the Mummy to be an epic battle is in for a rude awakening. Ironically, in keeping the fight confined to one scene toward the end, writer/director Damien Leone is sticking closely to the monster-mash template of the past, à la Universal’s black-and-white classic Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man.

To many, that won’t matter. What will is the time it takes to get to the point where those creatures are ready to rumble. Whereas the aforementioned 1943 film was over and done with in less than 75 minutes, this one takes nearly 120.

As if you needed to be told, leather-jacketed med-school professor Dr. Victor Frankenstein (Max Rhyser, Razortooth) is working on a secret project: reanimating the dead! Meanwhile, fellow faculty member and Maxim-ready archaeologist Naihla Khalil (Ashton Leigh, The Virginity Hit) has brought a rather unique souvenir back from her trip to Egypt: the crusty corpse of a pharaoh!

While Dr. F and Ms. K go on a first date (on which she puts out), her mummy (Brandon deSpain, The Black Water Vampire) spritzes its ancient death curse into the face of an old, bald colleague (Boomer Tibbs, Working Girls) who immediately gets all murdery across campus. Eventually, Victor’s own killer monster (Constantin Tripes, looking like an emaciated Glenn Danzig) gets loose, too.

Okay, so story is not Leone’s bread and butter; the guy sure loves him some old-school monsters, though, and their design is so impressive, it still would be for a picture 10 times the budget. I just wish this picture moved faster. The pacing is off — and consistently, suggesting Leone cannot kill his darlings either in the script stage or the editing phase, or perhaps both. Between the two, the role as editor is the one I would rather see him cede.

Frankenstein vs. the Mummy marks the multitalent’s first true feature, as 2013’s All Hallows’ Eve — a clown-centric and genuinely creepy horror flick I really dig — is an anthology cobbled from his short films. Judging from that and this, I presume he’s not yet accustomed to the differences of long-form narrative. He’ll get there. Until then, somewhat enjoy this graveyard semi-smash. —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.

Take one blind and cranky war veteran, replace “Hoo-ah!” with howls, and you have Late Phases, arguably the best pure werewolf film since 2000’s Ginger Snaps. To be fair, that category is not exactly snapping with fierce competition — Wes Craven’s Cursed, anyone? Thought not! — so let’s broaden the genre and call it a solid suspenser.

The sight-challenged military man at the center of this hairy tale is Ambrose McKinley (Nick Damici, Stake Land), whose son (Ethan Embry, Cheap Thrills) moves him into the Crescent Bay Retirement Community despite recent reports of residents disappearing. Sure enough, Ambrose barely has time to unpack before his next-door neighbor is mauled to death by a werewolf.

Well, we know a werewolf is to blame, because director Adrián Garcia Bogliano (Penumbra) lets the viewer in on the claw-gashing action. No one else is privy to the slaughter, yet Ambrose not only somehow surmises the culprit is of the felled-by-silver-bullets variety, but also correctly predicts the next strike will arrive with the following month’s full moon. You can question the “how” all you want; it won’t change a damn thing, so may as well just go with it as Bogliano does.

That you’ll want to speaks to the Spanish filmmaker’s strengths as a director. Late Phases marks his inauguration into English-language features, and he commemorates the challenge by bringing the best of his previous work with him: the mounting tension of 2010’s Cold Sweat and the hallucinatory horror of 2012’s Here Comes the Devil. His eye considerably elevates the so-so script by Eric Stolze, whose 2012’s Under the Bed is as dull as Phases is sharp.

Strangely, its weakest link is the lead performance from Damici, who makes an already crotchety character damn near insufferable — and certainly annoying — by adhering to a needless accent exaggerated to the point of comical: “Those” become “dose”; “thing” becomes “tang.” Good thing his supporting cast is so strong, it truly supports; standouts include Manhunter’s Tom Noonan, Bitch Slap’s Erin Cummings and The Last Starfighter himself, Lance Guest.

The MVP might be David Greathouse (Jug Face), who dons the werewolf suit — that’s right: suit instead of CGI, thereby working wonders in the projection of menace through the screen. The final showdown of man vs. lycanthrope provides much of the movie’s meat; pay particular attention to the 1:15:31 mark, where the beast takes a flying, slow-motion leap toward a car. It’s begging for animated-GIF immortality. —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.