Pot humor may help The Murder Podcast eventually find a cult, but — as is the case 9 times out of 10 (or 378 out of 420) — the movie doesn’t need the boost of bud. It’s funny enough on its own.

The lead performance of unknown actor Andrew McDermott is up to 90% of the reason. Sporting a Michael J. Fox babyface that goes a long way for likability, he’s laugh-out-loud hilarious; scene after scene, line reading after line reading, his Chad is reminiscent of peak Steve Zahn. His Funyuns-and-Fright Night approach consistently cracked me up.

Living in his sister’s basement, Chad is a slacker with a poor work ethic and a poorer gag reflex. Rather than get a real job, he and his nerdy best friend (Cooper Bucha, Judas and the Black Messiah) harbor delusions of their ramen review podcast breaking big.

But when their suburban town of Harbor Falls starts seeing strange deaths after a homicide-free run of 20 years, Chad smells money in not noodles, but the caboodle of corpses — hence, The Murder Podcast. Their amateur investigation puts them afoul of cops, a TV news reporter, Chad’s brother-in-law and Sam Raimi-level spookies.

Although it’s similar in tone to Tucker & Dale vs. Evil, I don’t mean to suggest writer/director William Bagley’s first feature is quite as winning; the third act’s heavy shift to the supernatural tips the scales away from what the film does best. But it’s close enough to run circles around so many indie horror-comedy wannabes, from John Dies at the End to Jack Brooks: Monster Slayer. Bagley’s premise is not just supported by strong effects and delivery, but timely in our nation’s collective true-crime obsession. That his lively movie is saddled with such a generic moniker is near-felonious. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.

Not to be confused with the processed cheese product manufacturer Kraft — or, for that matter, the sea monster Kraa! — a kratt is an mythological monster. Unlike your Medusa or garden-variety minotaur, the kratt is DIY; as legend has it, you build one from whatever you’ve got around the house, make a deal with the devil and, whammo, it does your bidding and brings you riches. Not a bad deal!

Or is it? From Estonia, the film Kratt examines this conundrum in a winning family comedy — assuming your family is good with repeated utterings of the word “fuck,” not to mention the potential inquiry of “Mom, what’s fentanyl?”

When their parents go on vacation, Mia and Kevin (real-life siblings and first-time actors Nora and Harri Merivoo) are left with Grandma (Mari Lill) in the country and, worse, without their phones. Boredom leads them to create a kratt, but a freak accident throws the Satan-swapped soul not into their ramshackle construction, but their grandmother! (It also plants a scythe in her head, but that’s beside the point.)

Instantly, the ever-robed taskmaster of little patience and a big generational gap becomes Mia and Kevin’s slave: a pancake-cooking, house-painting, coop-cleaning, sauerkraut fart-lighting machine.

Although Rasmus Merivoo — the writer, director, editor and kids’ father — smashes the Wes Anderson button a few times too many, he gets a great performance out of Lill and good ones from the children, particularly Nora. Whenever he shifts focus to the village’s bratty governor (Ivo Uukkivi) and squad of social justice warriors, the movie loses a few smidges of charm; these portions of political satire undoubtedly play in Peoria Estonia, but on this hemisphere, they feel like unneeded padding.

Still, Kratt stands astride the fiendish fantasy of Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale and the subversive goofiness of The Peanut Butter Solution, with an eye toward the good-natured gore of Peter Jackson’s Dead Alive. It’s observant, sharp and light of heart even when the comedy grows dark. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.