Clintborari

Listen, It doesn't matter if I get hate here, but I need to give positive credit where it's due.

Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey II is a vast improvement over the first film, and honestly, there's a lot it gets right this time around.

One of the strongest elements here is the enhanced backstory, lore, and flashbacks, which add a surprising amount of depth and insight to the characters. Unlike the "Terrifier"franchise, which often leans into chaotic ambiguity, Blood and Honey II gives us just enough backstory to make these monsters just a little more than just walking death machines.

While these mutated versions of Pooh and friends are clearly superhuman, they're not invulnerable, There are moments where they veer into Michael Myers territory, like wiping out hundreds at a rave party with ease, but there still feels like a sense of stakes and limits, which helps ground the horror just enough.

The introduction of Tigger and Owl is a standout move. Owl is cynical and deeply unsettling, stealing scenes with his cold intellect. Meanwhile, Tigger is basically "Freddy Krueger" in a fur suit, all slashing claws and snarky comedic one-liners. His scenes feel tailor-made for a montage.

One particularly memorable visual is Tigger dancing in the blood of a victim, slashing repeatedly from above a steel walkway. It's unhinged, theatrical, and pure horror camp.

The gore is seriously ramped up, and for slasher fans, that's a win where like the above a few other scenes stood out.

The camper van kill early on, where Pooh methodically snaps all of a woman's joints, is gnarly and effective.

The rave massacre is over-the-top but visually impressive, and must have been hell to shoot.

It doesn't quite dive into the nausea-inducing extremes of Terrifier 2, and for me, that's a good thing. There's plenty of blood and brutality, but it never feels like it's trying to make you sick just for the sake of it. It walks that fine line of brutal but watchable.

This franchise lives in the niche world of twisted childhood IP, and for what it's aiming to be, this sequel does its job better than expected. It may not "ruin childhoods" the way some claim, but it certainly plays with them in fun, wicked ways.

What I appreciated most was the stronger narrative backbone. Unlike the first film, which felt more like a stretched-out gimmick, this one has a story that's grounded enough to make the horror engaging. It feels more complete, more purposeful, even if it's still campy at heart.

Piglet doesn't have much screen time this round, but that's actually a smart move. We got plenty of him in the first film, and the sequel wisely lets the spotlight shift to newer faces like Owl.

Owl, in particular, is fascinating, echoing his storybook persona as the manipulative, intelligent one, but turned into something much darker. He may be the most disturbing character in the film, not just for what he does, but how he talks, acts and thinks.

There are obvious flaws, but this isn't a film that demands to be taken seriously. It leans into its absurd concept, delivers the gore fans are expecting, and manages to learn from the mistakes of the original.

I'm not always into ultra-violent horror, and I prefer good storytelling over shock value. But this film strikes a balance, it's gruesome, yes, but not so extreme that it becomes almost unbearable. (*Cough cough*, Terrifier)

At the end of the day, Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey II exceeded my expectations. It's nastier, weirder, and smarter than the first, and I'm actually a little excited to see where this twisted universe goes next.

6/10.

The Exorcism doesn't reinvent the horror genre, but it does come at it from a refreshing angle. The "film within a film" concept gives the possession storyline a meta twist that sets it apart from your usual fare. It's not your standard flick where it relies on tension and jump scares, and that alone makes it worth a more grounded watch for fans tired of the formula.

Russell Crowe delivers a grounded, raw performance as a washed-up actor battling addiction, trauma, and the creeping dread of possession.

Given the character's past with drugs and alcohol, it's no surprise others write him off, and that makes his descent feel even more tragic and isolated. There's a layer of vulnerability here that works, and Crowe sells it.

One of the film's most touching dynamics comes from his daughter, played brilliantly by Ryan Simpkins. Despite everything Tony has done, she sticks by him. Their relationship is messy, complicated, and oddly beautiful, a rare emotional anchor in a genre that often forgets to have one

That said, the film's own director character (inside the film-within-the-film) raises some serious eyebrows. His erratic behavior, including a wild line about the priest and Tony as a boy felt brutal and has the viewer expressing whether this is all in Tony's mind or a harsh reality? Either way, he quickly becomes grating, though his presence does hint at the behind-the-scenes evil that might come with making a horror movie.

What the film lacks in body count, it makes up for in atmosphere. Instead of relying on constant jump scares, it leans into slow possession, tension, and psychological unease. The supernatural elements are used smartly, not excessively, keeping things surprisingly clean and effective. The mirror death scene gave me a hastily jolt, and the final exorcism sequence was intense and had me fully locked in.

It doesn't quite hit near the heights of The Exorcist, which, in my book, still stands as the greatest of all time, but The Exorcism earns some credit for trying something different without falling into parody or pure cliché. It's not groundbreaking, but it's honest, well-paced, and surprisingly thoughtful.

5/10.

I understand that a film adaptation doesn't need to be a carbon copy of the game, nor should it be. And to its credit, Until Dawn does a pretty solid job of carving out its own story, while still nodding to the source material. Longtime fans will appreciate the familiar Easter eggs, and moments sprinkled throughout, even if the film diverges in key ways.

One of the film's strengths is how it acts as a kind of horror homage. There are moments that tap into slasher tropes, flashes of supernatural terror, touches of found footage, and even body-horror.

It's clear the filmmakers were having fun playing with genre, and those elements mostly work to keep the tone unpredictable and playful, with some nice splattering of gore.

However, where Until Dawn stumbles is in its limited worldbuilding. The narrative keeps its focus tightly on the survival element, but in doing so, it neglects to flesh out the town, its history, or the chilling backstory that made the game's setting so compelling. In the game, the mountaintop cabin blanketed in snow felt gothic, isolating, and deeply unsettling. Here, the cabin feels... well, kind of "meh." I get that there were likely budget constraints, and that the goal wasn't to replicate the game's blueprint exactly, but it still feels like a badly missed opportunity.

A surprise appearance by someone like Rami Malek would've been a fun (and welcome) nod to the original cast, but sadly, it never materializes.

That said, some elements do carry real weight. The doctor/mechanic/villain, and the unhinged psychopath all contribute to the atmosphere of dread and mystery with a raspy, haunting voice, feels eerily reminiscent of the game's iconic psychiatrist, and it helps ground the film in familiar psychological horror.

But the supernatural twist involving time loops and shifting weather may have done more harm than good. It adds complexity, yes, but also makes the story feel a bit muddled and repetitive. While the loop mechanic brings some freshness, the film could've benefited from showcasing more of the Wendigos, and from allowing at least one major character death to land with real emotional weight. That absence of consequence severely blunts the fear.

This is a problem I've noticed with a lot of modern horror: it rarely knocks you emotionally and has you deeply invested, Until Dawn the game had deep, meaningful lore and a narrative that packed an emotional punch. The film, on the other hand, mostly sidesteps that richness, save for a brief video recording around the halfway mark that hints more of what could've been.

In the end, Until Dawn isn't a bad film. It has style, genre flair, and a few solid scares. But it ultimately lacks the heart, mystery, and depth that made the game so unforgettable.

Sadly, I fear it will be remembered as just another video game adaptation, watchable, but easily forgettable.

5/10.