There are films that linger with you, and then there's Excision—a movie that doesn't just stick around, it burrows under your skin and sets up camp. I just finished watching Richard Bates Jr.'s 2012 comedy horror masterpiece on streaming, and I'm still processing the beautiful, twisted nightmare I witnessed. This isn't your typical horror film. It's a visceral coming-of-age story wrapped in body horror, dark comedy, and genuine tragedy that absolutely floored me.

A campy, glittery, and surprisingly heartfelt addition to the zombie canon that proves the undead apocalypse looks better in heels Look, I'll admit it—when I first heard about a zombie movie featuring drag queens, I wasn't sure what to expect. The premise sounded like it could go one of two ways: either brilliantly camp or a complete disaster. After finishing "Queens of the Dead" on streaming, I can confidently say this film is everything I hoped for and more.

"The Great Swirling Apparatus of Our Planet's Function" Reveals the Terrifying Truth Behind Pennywise's Prison There are moments in television that remind you why horror exists—not just to scare us, but to force us to confront uncomfortable truths we'd rather ignore. Episode 4 of IT: Welcome to Derry, with its unwieldy title borrowed from cosmic dread, delivers one of those moments.

I did something this afternoon that I rarely do—I binged all eight episodes of a show in one sitting. Not because "The Beast In Me" hooked me with explosive twists or edge-of-your-seat cliffhangers, but because there's something quietly compelling about watching two damaged people circle each other like wounded animals trying to figure out if the other is predator or prey.

There's something uniquely revealing about watching a film and its remake back-to-back. It's like placing two mirrors side by side—one from 1992, one from 2025—and examining not just the reflection, but the quality of the glass itself, the lighting in the room, and everything that's changed in the space between. I recently did exactly this with "The Hand That Rocks the Cradle," experiencing both Curtis Hanson's 1992 psychological thriller and Michelle Garza Cervera's 2025 reimagining in one extended sitting.

There's something deeply unsettling about watching someone suffocate under the weight of relentless kindness. That's the experience Vince Gilligan masterfully delivers in "Grenade," the third episode of Apple TV+'s Pluribus, and honestly, I haven't felt this existentially uncomfortable watching television in years. I just finished the episode, and I'm still processing the quiet horror of it all. This isn't your typical sci-fi thriller with explosions and chase scenes.

How Dan Trachtenberg Transformed Cinema's Most Iconic Monster into Someone Worth Rooting For There's something unexpectedly moving about watching a Predator care. My wife got a free movie card yesterday—good for ten films—and we wasted no time putting it to use today. We caught the first screening of Predator: Badlands, Dan Trachtenberg's audacious new entry in the franchise, rated NC-16 here in Singapore.

There's something profoundly unsettling about evil that refuses to stay buried. I finished watching Black Phone 2 with that chill still crawling up my spine—not just from the jump scares or Ethan Hawke's grotesque resurrection as the Grabber, but from something far more insidious. This sequel dares to ask a question most horror films avoid: What happens after you've survived the monster?

There's something profoundly unsettling about watching a carnival from 1908 bleed into the paranoia of 1962 Cold War America. Episode 3 of IT: Welcome to Derry, aptly titled "Now You See It," does exactly that—it asks us to consider not just what lurks beneath Derry's surface, but how the sins and fears of the past inevitably shape the terrors of the present.

A Gothic Opera That Beats with a Human Heart There are films you watch, and then there are films that watch you back—that peer into the darkest corners of your soul and ask questions you've been avoiding. Guillermo del Toro's Frankenstein is the latter. Just like every del Toro film I've experienced, this one wraps itself around you like a velvet shroud, visually rich as Baroque art but drenched in gothic sensibility.

I just finished the first two episodes of Vince Gilligan's Pluribus, and I'm sitting here in the kind of unsettled silence that only truly great television can create. This isn't your typical alien invasion story—it's something far more insidious, more thought-provoking, and honestly, more terrifying than any CGI monster could ever be. A Different Kind of Invasion The first episode hooked me immediately, but not in the way I expected.

A Film That Tests Your Patience Before Rewarding Your Endurance I'll be honest with you—I fell asleep watching "Pula" (2024). Twice, actually. The first time, I blamed my exhaustion. The second time, I started questioning whether Brillante Mendoza's latest Netflix offering was deliberately pacing itself like molasses in winter, or if I'd simply lost the thread somewhere between the endless rain sequences and handheld camera work that made me slightly seasick.

Introduction: A Double Booking That Spirals Into Nightmare I just finished watching "Bone Lake," and I'm still processing what I witnessed. This isn't your typical horror film—it's a slow-burning psychological thriller that builds tension through social discomfort before exploding into visceral violence. Director Mercedes Bryce Morgan's 2024 erotic thriller premiered at Fantastic Fest in September 2024 before hitting theaters in October 2025, and it's sparked polarizing reactions that I completely understand.

I wasn't planning to watch Zomvivor. Honestly, the title alone made me skeptical—it sounds like something a focus group came up with in fifteen minutes. A Thai zombie series set in a university? With an ensemble cast that looked impossibly large? I had so many other things on my watchlist that seemed more promising. But it was Halloween night, I was scrolling through Netflix looking for something seasonal, and there it was: freshly dropped, seven episodes, just short enough to sample without committing my entire weekend.

A Terrifying Question That Haunts Long After the Credits Roll I'll be honest—when I first clicked play on "Host," Prime Video's latest Thai horror offering, I expected another competent but familiar ghost story. What I got instead was something that's been sitting heavy in my chest for days, a film that uses the supernatural not as mere jump-scare fodder but as a lens to examine power, cruelty, and the devastating ways trauma transforms us into the very things we fear.

There's something profoundly unsettling about watching someone chase fame so desperately that they're willing to sleep in rooms where people died. Yet that's exactly what drew me into Hideo Nakata's "Stigmatised Properties: Possessed," and by the time the credits rolled, I realized I'd witnessed something far more layered than your typical J-horror fare. The Master Returns to His Haunting Grounds…

A Gen-X lens on comfort rewatches—why Voltes V, Robotech, and Mazinger Z still hit differently. There's a specific kind of exhaustion that comes with being alive right now. Not the physical kind that sleep can fix, but the soul-deep weariness of navigating a world that feels increasingly unmoored from meaning. The algorithms know what we need before we do, feeding us content we didn't ask for while the planet burns and the news cycle spirals into performative outrage.

There's something profoundly unsettling about watching a show that understands one simple truth: sometimes the real monsters aren't the ones with sharp teeth and red balloons. They're the ones who smile politely while the world burns around them. Episode 2 of HBO's IT: Welcome to Derry, titled "The Thing in the Dark," doesn't just continue the story—it peels back the skin of 1962 Derry to reveal the rot underneath, and honestly?

There's something about discovering a band that completely rewires your musical DNA. For me, that band was Depeche Mode, though I honestly can't pinpoint the exact moment they infiltrated my consciousness. It wasn't love at first listen—it was more like a slow possession, the kind where you wake up one day and realize these dark, pulsing electronic rhythms have become the soundtrack to your entire existence.

I can't remember exactly when I first heard "Shout"—it was 1985, and somehow the song just appeared in my life. Those opening drums, that urgent vocal, the way Roland Orzabal sang these are the things I can do without—it hit me like a revelation. This wasn't just another pop song. This was something that understood the weight of what I was feeling, trapped in the strange limbo of boarding school life.

There's a moment about forty minutes into the premiere of HBO's It: Welcome to Derry where you think you've got it all figured out. You've met the misfit kids. You know their traumas, their quirks, the ways they don't quite fit into the Norman Rockwell painting that is 1962 Derry, Maine. You can see the Losers Club forming. You've watched this movie before.

The car exploded at 2:47 AM. Or rather, I watched it explode for the third time, rewinding because I couldn't believe what I'd just seen. My coffee had gone cold hours ago. The sun would be up soon. I didn't care. This is what Netflix's The Diplomat does to you. I started the show on a Thursday evening thinking I'd watch an episode or two—you know, something sophisticated to unwind with.

A Deep Dive into Taweewat Wantha's Brutal Teen Thriller Attack 13 does something I've never seen a horror film do before: it brings back the villain as the vengeful spirit. Not the victim. Not the wronged protagonist seeking justice. The bully—the girl who extorted, assaulted, and psychologically tortured her teammates—gets to keep terrorizing them even after death. When I realized this was the film's actual premise, I paused it and sat there, genuinely conflicted.

Rediscovering Propaganda's "A Secret Wish": A Deep Dive Into 1985's Most Cinematic Synth-Pop Statement There's something almost mystical about finding an album that completely reframes your understanding of what pop music can be. For me, that moment came through the hypnotic pull of "Duel"—or as I knew it then, "Jewel/Duel"—Propaganda's brooding masterpiece that somehow managed to be both utterly accessible and completely otherworldly.

The credits rolled, and I sat there in silence. Not the satisfied silence of a story well-told, but the unsettling quiet that comes when a film refuses to let you off the hook. Kathryn Bigelow's A House of Dynamite doesn't end—it suspends. And in that suspension, it asks us to reckon with something far more uncomfortable than a nuclear strike: our own complicity in a world rigged to explode.