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This week on Friday Night Frightfest, we are heading back to Haddonfield, Illinois, to examine two wildly different approaches to continuing slasher royalty! Few horror icons have had their timelines rewritten, rebooted, and retconned as often as Michael Myers. We are pairing the notorious early-2000s reality-TV experiment Halloween: Resurrection (2002) with the blockbuster, timeline-cleansing direct sequel Halloween (2018). Grab your coveralls and mind the kitchen knives—it's time to see how the Shape adapted to two very different eras. Halloween: Resurrection (2002) Directed by Rick Rosenthal, Halloween: Resurrection embraced the dawn of the internet age and early-2000s reality television. The story follows a group of college students who win a contest to spend the night livestreaming from Michael Myers' abandoned childhood home for an online show hosted by an ambitious producer (Busta Rhymes). Equipped with head-mounted webcams, the participants think it’s all a staged publicity stunt—until the real Shape returns home to clear out the trespassers. Campy, fast-paced, and wildly characteristic of its era, it stands as a fascination capsule of early-2000s slasher tropes. Halloween (2018) Sixteen years later, director David Gordon Green and Blumhouse took a radically different approach by wiping the slate clean—ignoring every sequel after John Carpenter’s 1978 original. The film picks up forty years after that fateful Halloween night, with Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) living as a heavily armed, traumatized recluse who has spent decades preparing for Michael’s inevitable escape from a maximum-security institution. When his prison transport crashes, Laurie must protect her daughter (Judy Greer) and granddaughter (Andi Matichak) in a fierce, multi-generational battle for survival. Brutal, grounded, and emotionally charged, it re-established Michael Myers as an unfeeling force of nature. Join us as we contrast these two radically different chapters in the Myers mythos! Spoilers start around 6:02.

This week on Friday Night Frightfest, we are diving headfirst back into the terrifying universe of writer-director Stephen Cognetti! The Hell House LLC series has quietly evolved from a sleeper found-footage hit into one of the most intricate modern horror mythologies. Today, we are analyzing how the franchise reinvented itself by exploring two connected chapters: the atmospheric standalone prequel Hell House LLC Origins: The Carmichael Manor (2023) and the epic lore-capping sequel Hell House LLC: Lineage (2025). Keep a close eye on the static—and whatever you do, don't look directly at the clown mannequins. Hell House LLC Origins: The Carmichael Manor (2023) Shifting the nightmare away from the Abaddon Hotel, Origins takes us to a remote estate in upstate New York with a dark history of its own. A pair of internet sleuths and a family member set up camp at the Carmichael Manor to investigate the mysterious unsolved deaths of a family back in the late 1980s. As they dig into old tapes and unearthed records, they quickly realize that the haunting inside the manor is tied directly to the origins of the sinister cult behind Abaddon. Utilizing brilliant spatial tension, eerie security camera feeds, and those deeply unsettling clown mannequins that seem to move when no one is looking, The Carmichael Manor proved that the franchise could deliver pure, skin-crawling scares outside its original setting. Hell House LLC: Lineage (2025) Building on the lore established in Carmichael Manor, Lineage brought the series full circle for an ambitious, multi-generational finale. The story centers on a survivor haunted by recurring nightmares and strange visions, who finds herself drawn back to the town of Abaddon to unravel the ultimate mystery of the cult's influence. Connecting the dots between the original Abaddon Hotel tragedy, the Carmichael family lineage, and the supernatural forces at play, the film expands the scale of the universe while keeping the raw, claustrophobic found-footage style fans love. Filled with chilling lingering shots, dark corridors, and shocking lore reveals, it serves as a terrifying, fitting culmination of the entire saga. Join us as we break down the evolution of the Hell House universe! We’ll discuss how Stephen Cognetti uses silence and static camera angles to build dread, comparing the isolated mystery of The Carmichael Manor with the sweeping narrative payoff of Lineage. Spoilers start around 9:20.

This week on Friday Night Frightfest, we are diving into the deeply unsettling, atmosphere-soaked mind of Irish horror auteur Damian McCarthy! McCarthy has quickly become one of the most exciting voices in modern horror. We are pairing his claustrophobic feature debut Caveat (2020) with his haunting folk-horror feature Hokum (2026). Keep your lights on—things are about to get deeply unnerving. Caveat (2020) Written and directed by McCarthy, Caveat is a masterclass in slow-burn, spatial dread. The story follows Isaac (Jonathan French), a man struggling with memory loss who accepts a strangely specific job: house-sit for a troubled young woman in an isolated, decaying home. The catch? Unexplained security measures strictly limit where he can walk inside the house. As Isaac explores his surroundings and stumbles across a series of unsettling oddities—including a eerie, drum-playing toy rabbit—he begins to realize that his host, and the house itself, are hiding sinister secrets. It’s a lean, inventive thriller that weaponizes physical restriction to build overwhelming tension. Hokum (2026) Stepping into a broader setting while keeping that signature eerie atmosphere, McCarthy’s Hokum shifts the terror to a quiet Irish countryside steeped in local legend. The film follows a skeptical American investigator (Adam Scott) who travels to a remote village to look into longstanding regional superstitions and dark local lore. What begins as an effort to separate fact from fiction quickly spirals as the town's unsettling atmosphere closes in on him. Atmospheric, paranoid, and layered with quiet dread, Hokum explores how thin the line really is between harmless myth and genuine terror. Join us as we break down Damian McCarthy’s distinct brand of storytelling! Spoilers start around 5:50.

This week on Friday Night Frightfest, our ultimate Evil Dead retrospective series reaches its devastating, blood-soaked climax! After surviving the cabin in the woods and journeying back to the Middle Ages, we are bringing the Necronomicon into modern, inhabited spaces. We’re pairing Lee Cronin’s terrifying high-rise nightmare, Evil Dead Rise (2023), with the franchise's newest installment that took the summer by storm, Sébastien Vaniček’s brutal Evil Dead Burn (2026). Lock the doors, stay away from the elevator, and whatever you do, don't trust your family. Evil Dead Rise (2023) Directed by Lee Cronin, Evil Dead Rise dragged the franchise kicking and screaming out of the woods and into a condemned, decaying Los Angeles apartment building. The story follows guitar tech Beth (Lily Sullivan), who visits her estranged older sister Ellie (Alyssa Sutherland) and Ellie’s three kids. When an earthquake exposes a hidden vault in the building's basement, they uncover a vinyl-record variant of the Naturom Demonto. Once played, the malevolent force possesses Ellie, transforming a loving mother into a terrifying, sadistic Deadite matriarch. Packed with horrific, wince-inducing set pieces—from cheese-grater violence to an elevator full of blood and a nightmare "Marauder" amalgam monster—Cronin delivered a claustrophobic, family-centric slasher that breathed terrifying new life into the brand. Evil Dead Burn (2026) Picking up the baton three years later, French director Sébastien Vaniček (Infested) brought a mean-spirited, New French Extremity edge to the saga with Evil Dead Burn (2026). Moving the terror to a secluded rural estate, the film follows Alice (Souheila Yacoub), a grieving widow seeking comfort with her late husband’s estranged family after his sudden death. When the ancient curse takes hold, her in-laws transform one by one into grotesque, fear-devouring Deadites—turning a tense family wake into a literal reunion from hell. Channeling a brutal, unrelenting pace, Vaniček trades campy quips for sheer, visceral intensity, showcasing some of the most wince-inducing practical kills and body horror the series has ever seen. Join us as we close out our Evil Dead series by dissecting how modern directors have successfully expanded the lore without Sam Raimi behind the camera. We’ll discuss how Rise weaponized maternal terror in a tight city apartment, versus how Burn brought a bleak, explosive aggression to the "toxic family" dynamic. Spoilers start around 7:05.

This week on Friday Night Frightfest, our multi-part Evil Dead franchise retrospective marches onward! After surviving the cabin in our last episode, we are taking a wildly divergent double-road trip: first, traveling back in time to the Middle Ages for fantasy-slapstick mayhem, and then leaping forward to 2013 for one of the most unapologetically violent, blood-soaked horror reboots ever committed to film. Grab your boomstick—we are pitting Army of Darkness (1992) against Fede Álvarez's Evil Dead (2013)! Army of Darkness (1992) Directed by Sam Raimi, Army of Darkness abandons the cabin setting almost entirely and leans full-tilt into Ray Harryhausen-style stop-motion fantasy adventure and screwball comedy. Swallowed by a time-vortex at the end of Evil Dead II, Ash Williams (Bruce Campbell) finds himself stranded in 1300 AD. To get back home, he must retrieve the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis—but in typical Ash fashion, he mispronounces the magic words ("Klaatu... Barada... N-necktie?") and accidentally unleashes an army of the dead led by his own skeletal doppelgänger, Evil Ash. Packed with endless iconic one-liners ("Hail to the king, baby"), battle-ready Oldsmobiles, and skeletal slapstick, this entry turned Ash into an immortal pop-culture icon. Evil Dead (2013) Twenty-one years later, director Fede Álvarez took on the seemingly impossible task of rebooting the franchise—and delivered a modern horror triumph. Stripping away the humor entirely, the 2013 reboot grounds the cabin nightmare in a gritty story of addiction and survival, following David (Shiloh Fernandez) and his friends as they gather in the woods to help his sister Mia (Jane Levy) cold-turkey through heroin withdrawal. When the Naturom Demonto is unearthed and read aloud, all hell breaks loose. Driven almost entirely by jaw-dropping practical effects, intense self-mutilation, and a legendary, torrential downpour of blood during the climax, Jane Levy’s Mia delivers a fierce, chainsaw-toting Final Girl performance that earned the respect of diehard fans worldwide. Join us as we explore two radically different directions for the Necronomicon legacy! We’ll break down how Sam Raimi transformed a low-budget horror story into a campy medieval epic, versus how Fede Álvarez proved that a franchise reboot could be terrifying, brutal, and deeply respectful of the source material. Spoilers start around 6:13.

This week on Friday Night Frightfest, we are heading deep into the Tennessee woods to kick off a brand-new multi-part retrospective series dedicated to the ultimate splatter-horror royalty! Over the next few episodes, we’ll be exploring the entire Evil Dead saga—from its scrappy, low-budget origins all the way to its modern reboots. To start our franchise journey, we’re pitting the raw, visceral terror of Sam Raimi’s original cabin-in-the-woods shocker, The Evil Dead (1981), against its legendary, laugh-out-loud slapstick horror-comedy follow-up, Evil Dead II (1987). Strap in as we track Bruce Campbell's transformation from a mild-mannered victim into the ultimate chainsaw-wielding anti-hero! The Evil Dead (1981) Crafted on a shoestring budget by a group of young, ambitious friends in the woods of Morristown, Tennessee, The Evil Dead remains one of the most relentlessly oppressive and innovative low-budget horror films ever made. Five college students arrive at an isolated cabin where they accidentally play a reel-to-reel recording of ancient Sumerian incantations from the Naturom Demonto (the Book of the Dead). What follows is an unhinged descent into graphic, demonic terror as the unseen Kandarian Demon possesses them one by one. Driven by Raimi's frantic "shaky-cam" cinematography, Tom Sullivan's nauseating practical gore effects, and a grim, unrelenting tone, this original nightmare set the benchmark for modern survival horror. Evil Dead II (1987) Six years later, armed with a bigger budget and a wildly anarchic vision, Sam Raimi returned to the cabin to invent a whole new subgenre. Part remake recap, part escalation, Evil Dead II hits the fast-forward button on the original's setup and throws Ash Williams (Bruce Campbell) into a hyper-violent, Three Stooges-style cartoon hallucination. Trapped in the cabin alone with possessed severed hands, laughing furniture, and Deadites lurking in the cellar, Ash loses his mind—and his hand—before strapping a chainsaw to his arm and rising as the "Groovy" action icon we know and love. It is a tour de force of physical comedy, buckets of multi-colored blood, and pure, joyful cinematic chaos. Join us as we dissect this foundational double feature and launch our dive into the Necronomicon lore! Spoilers start around 9:38

Lock your doors, turn down the lights, and grab a glass of whatever keeps your nerves steady—it is officially time for our Annual Year in Review! We’ve spent the last twelve months tracking the cinematic highs, the baffling lows, and the absolute bloodbaths that have graced both theater screens and streaming platforms. In this episode, we’ll be counting down our official top 10 and bottom 5 films of the entire year! What a wild, terrifying, and hilarious ride it has been! Grab your drinks, settle in, and get ready as we break down our absolute favorites (and our biggest disappointments) of the past year.

This week on Friday Night Frightfest, we are logging on and diving deep into the dark corners of internet-born folklore! Online urban legends—lovingly dubbed "creepypastas"—have officially conquered the silver screen, moving from text-based forums to major cinematic blockbusters. We are pairing Kane Parsons’ massive, record-breaking summer box office smash Backrooms (2026) with the indie lo-fi horror anthology, Creepypasta (2023). Dust off your old CRT monitors and mind the static—you never know what's lurking in the digital void. Backrooms (2026) Talk about a viral phenomenon making history. Directed by 21-year-old Kane Parsons in his feature-length directorial debut (expanding on his legendary YouTube found-footage universe) and distributed by A24, Backrooms is an absolute triumph of psychological and liminal space horror. The film stars Chiwetel Ejiofor as Clark, a struggling furniture store owner who discovers a terrifying, glitchy dimensional gateway in his basement that leads into an endless, yellow-wallpapered labyrinth. Alongside his therapist Mary (Renate Reinsve), they are hunted through the chaotic, disordered halls by a deeply unsettling entity known as "Pirate Clark" (played by the 7-foot-8 Robert Bobroczkyi). It is a gorgeous, suffocating masterpiece that proves internet lore can carry a massive theatrical narrative. Creepypasta (2023) To understand how we got to the big-budget heights of Backrooms, you have to look back at the indie anthology roots of the genre. Released on Screambox, Creepypasta utilizes a gritty, low-fi wrap-around story where an unnamed young man finds himself trapped inside an abandoned house. To figure out how he arrived, he is forced by a menacing presence to sift through a series of viral, dark-web videos. Comprising multiple short segments directed by various indie filmmakers, the movie evokes the early days of internet chain-letters, hidden analog signals, and creepy folklore. It’s a DIY tribute to the era of staying up way too late reading scary stories on message boards. Join us as we analyze the evolution of cyber urban legends. We’ll discuss how Backrooms successfully traded the typical "jump scare" formula for deep, existential dread and surrealist set designs, versus how Creepypasta serves as a raw, analog time capsule of online horror culture. Spoilers start around 7:07.

This week on Friday Night Frightfest, we are wrapping up our epic franchise retrospective with a massive grand finale! While the internet love to debate the ups and downs of parody history, we’re throwing out the critical consensus and embracing the pure, unadulterated fun of the franchise's later eras. We are looking at an entry that deserve a lot more love: the hyper-chaotic, early-2010s time capsule Scary Movie 5 (2013) and the triumphant, star-studded legacy revival that just crushed the summer box office, Scary Movie (2026). Grab your popcorn—we’re closing this series out with non-stop laughs! Scary Movie 5 (2013) Directed by Malcolm D. Lee, Scary Movie 5 gets a bad rap, but if you look past the critical hate, it is a goldmine of rapid-fire physical comedy and surreal, early-2010s pop culture. Anchored by Ashley Tisdale and Simon Rex, the film skewers hits like Paranormal Activity, Evil Dead, Sinister, and Rise of the Planet of the Apes. From Simon Rex’s incredible commitment to getting physically destroyed by the scenery to the utterly bizarre, self-aware opening cameo with Charlie Sheen and Lindsay Lohan, this entry runs at a breakneck pace. It’s an absurd, live-action cartoon that understands exactly what it is: pure, unpretentious fun. Scary Movie (2026) Pairing perfectly with the fifth entry is the brand-new 2026 revival, which brought the franchise roaring back into the cultural zeitgeist. Written by the legendary Wayans brothers (Keenen Ivory, Shawn, and Marlon) and bringing back the iconic duo of Anna Faris (Cindy) and Regina Hall (Brenda), this movie is an absolute love letter to the fans. The film brilliantly parodies the modern "elevated horror" and "requel" trends, taking hilarious, no-holds-barred aims at Scream (2022), M3GAN, Smile, and The Substance. It captures the exact same nostalgic magic as the original trilogy while proving that the spoof genre is far from dead. Join us as we celebrate the entire evolution of this comedy empire! We’ll break down why the physical gags in Scary Movie 5 (especially that possessed Roomba sequence) still crack us up, and how the 2026 reunion delivered the ultimate fan-service theater experience of the year. It turns out that when you stop taking things so seriously, both of these films are an absolute blast to watch back-to-back. Spoilers start around 7:15.

This week on Friday Night Frightfest, we’re entering the "Zucker Era" of the parody world! After the Wayans brothers moved on, legendary comedy director David Zucker (Airplane!) took the reins, shifting the franchise from gross-out gags to rapid-fire, slapstick absurdity. We’re comparing the blockbuster pivot Scary Movie 3 (2003) with the sci-fi-fueled madness of Scary Movie 4 (2006). It’s time for crop circles, cursed tapes, and alien tripods! Scary Movie 3 (2003) Widely considered the peak of the sequels, Scary Movie 3 masterfully weaves together the plots of The Ring and Signs. Cindy Campbell (Anna Faris) returns, now a struggling news reporter investigating a cursed videotape that kills viewers in seven days, while simultaneously helping a widower farmer (Charlie Sheen) deal with mysterious crop circles. With iconic cameos from Pamela Anderson, Jenny McCarthy, and Queen Latifah (in a hilarious Matrix parody), this entry perfected the art of the visual "sight gag"—including that infamous, ever-growing Sheriff’s hat! Scary Movie 4 (2006) In the fourth installment, the franchise leans heavily into the big-budget "disaster horror" of the mid-2000s. The primary targets this time are War of the Worlds, The Grudge, and Saw. Cindy finds herself working as a home-care nurse in a haunted house (complete with a terrifyingly pale Japanese ghost boy) while her neighbor, Tom Ryan (a pitch-perfect Tom Cruise parody by Craig Bierko), tries to survive an alien invasion of giant "Tr-iPods." From the Jigsaw traps that go hilariously wrong to the brutal The Village parody, this film proved that nothing was safe from a Zucker-style punchline. Join us as we discuss the shift in tone that defined these two entries. We’ll look at how the franchise successfully transitioned from R-rated raunch to PG-13 slapstick without losing its edge, and why the chemistry between Brenda (Regina Hall) and Cindy remains the best part of the entire series. Which "cursed" storyline made us laugh the hardest, and which celebrity cameo stole the show? Spoilers start around 9:55.

This week on Friday Night Frightfest, we’re trading pure terror for some classic meta-commentary and a whole lot of "Wazzup!" In anticipation of the Scary Movie reboot coming out this year, we are going back to the duo that started the parody phenomenon. We’re comparing the original slasher-skewering Scary Movie (2000) with its supernatural-themed sequel Scary Movie 2 (2001). Grab your popcorn and watch out for the killer—if he isn’t too busy getting high! Scary Movie (2000) Directed by Keenen Ivory Wayans, the first Scary Movie took the late-90s horror resurgence and turned it on its head. Primarily lampooning the meta-horror of Scream and the "guilty secret" trope of I Know What You Did Last Summer, the film follows Cindy Campbell (Anna Faris) and her group of deeply dim-witted friends as they are stalked by a masked killer. From the opening Drew Barrymore parody with Carmen Electra to the "Shorty" (Marlon Wayans) stoner gags, it’s a relentless barrage of slapstick and gross-out humor that somehow manages to perfectly capture the aesthetic of the films it’s making fun of. Scary Movie 2 (2001) The sequel, released just a year later, pivots away from slashers and dives into the world of supernatural and haunted house horror. Taking its main plot from the 1999 remake of The Haunting, the film sees our survivors (joined by new faces like Tori Spelling) invited to "Hell House" by a perverted professor (Tim Curry) for a sleep study. The parodies here are legendary: the Exorcist opening with James Woods, the Poltergeist clown fight, and the infamous "Hanson" (Chris Elliott) and his "strong hand." It’s a chaotic, live-action cartoon that pushed the franchise into even weirder, more supernatural territory. Join us as we break down why these films were such massive cultural touchpoints at the turn of the millennium. We’ll discuss which parodies hit the mark and which jokes… well, haven't exactly aged like fine wine. Spoilers start around 5:40.

This week on Friday Night Frightfest, we’re going "ape" over a terrifyingly specific subgenre: the lab-enhanced simian nightmare! We are looking at a classic piece of "scientific-experiment-gone-wrong" horror by comparing George A. Romero’s psychological thriller Monkey Shines (1988) with the highly anticipated, high-tech creature feature Primate (2026). Grab your bananas, but watch your back—these monkeys are smarter (and meaner) than you think! Monkey Shines (1988) Directed by the legendary George A. Romero, this film explores the terrifying bond between a man and his "helper." After a tragic accident leaves athlete Allan Mann (Jason Beghe) paralyzed, he is given Ella, a highly intelligent capuchin monkey trained to assist him. However, Ella has been injected with experimental human brain tissue, creating a telepathic link between her and Allan. As Ella begins to act out Allan’s suppressed rage and darker impulses, the film spirals into a claustrophobic, psychological battle of wills. It’s a masterclass in building tension within a single location. Primate (2026) Directed by Johannes Roberts (47 Meters Down), this brand-new release takes the "killer monkey" trope and scales it up for a modern, terrifying cinematic experience. In Primate, a group of scientists at a remote research facility are hunted by a breakthrough species of genetically modified primates designed for "cognitive warfare." Unlike the intimate scale of Monkey Shines, this 2026 thriller leans into high-octane survival horror, utilizing state-of-the-art practical effects and performance capture to create predators that are hauntingly human in their tactics. Join us as we dissect the evolution of simian scares! We’ll discuss the eerie, intimate connection between man and monkey in Romero’s cult classic versus the visceral, pack-hunting terror of the new 2026 blockbuster. How has our fear of animal intelligence changed over the decades, and which of these primates is the true "King of the Jungle"? Spoilers start around 5:50.

This week on Friday Night Frightfest, we are hitting the "lucky number seven" of two of the greatest slasher sagas in history! We are comparing two of the most daring entries in their respective franchises: the telekinetic showdown Friday the 13th Part VII: The New Blood (1988) and the groundbreaking meta-masterpiece Wes Craven’s New Nightmare (1994). It’s a clash between the ultimate supernatural slasher and the movie that dared to break the fourth wall before "meta" was a household word. Friday the 13th Part VII: The New Blood (1988) Directed by John Carl Buechler, The New Blood is often cited by fans as the "Jason vs. Carrie" installment. This is the monumental debut of Kane Hodder as Jason Voorhees, bringing a newfound physical intensity and rage to the role that defined the character for the next decade. The story follows Tina Shepard, a girl with telekinetic powers who accidentally resurrects Jason from the bottom of Crystal Lake while trying to bring back her deceased father. With a massive psychic showdown and some of the franchise's most brutal practical kills—including the iconic sleeping bag moment—this entry turned Jason into a force of nature that literally required a supernatural match-up to stop. Wes Craven’s New Nightmare (1994) Directed by Wes Craven himself, New Nightmare took the franchise to an entirely new dimension. Abandoning the continuity of the previous films, this entry takes place in the "real world," where actress Heather Langenkamp (playing herself) is stalked by a darker, more terrifying entity that has taken the form of Freddy Krueger. As Freddy begins to bleed into reality, terrorizing the cast and crew of the Nightmare films, the movie deconstructs the entire slasher genre. It’s a brilliant, psychological horror film that explores the burden of fame, the danger of archetypes, and what happens when the monster you created decides to come for its creator. Join us as we analyze how these seventh installments reinvented their monsters. We’ll discuss the visceral, heavy-metal spectacle of Kane Hodder’s first outing as Jason versus the high-concept, cerebral terror of Wes Craven’s meta-commentary. Spoilers start around 7:21.

This week on Friday Night Frightfest, we are celebrating the ultimate "bad in-laws" survival guide! We’re revisiting the film that turned a wedding night into a heavy-metal bloodbath and comparing it to its highly anticipated, high-stakes sequel. We’re pitting the 2019 cult hit Ready or Not against the brand-new, expanded chaos of Ready or Not 2 (2026). Hide your crossbows and lace up your sneakers—it’s time for a family reunion from hell. Ready or Not (2019) Directed by the Radio Silence team (Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett), this film introduced us to Grace (Samara Weaving), a bride whose wedding night takes a sinister turn when her eccentric, wealthy new in-laws force her to take part in a terrifying tradition. After drawing the "Hide and Seek" card from a mysterious box, Grace becomes the prey in a ritualistic hunt designed to appease a demonic entity named Mr. Le Bail. Blending razor-sharp satire with visceral gore, the film is a masterclass in survival horror, anchored by Weaving’s iconic, cigarette-smoking, blood-soaked performance in a shredded wedding dress. Ready or Not 2 (2026) Picking up years after the explosive (literally) finale of the first film, Ready or Not 2 sees Samara Weaving return as Grace, who has spent the intervening years trying to outrun the legacy of the Le Domas family. However, the curse of Mr. Le Bail isn't so easily broken. Directed by Adam Robitel (Escape Room), the sequel scales up the carnage as Grace discovers that the "game" has gone global. A new generation of the elite has gathered for a "Tournament of Champions," and Grace is the ultimate prize. This time, she isn’t just hiding—she’s hunting, utilizing an arsenal of traps and her hard-earned survival instincts to take down the one percent once and for all. Join us as we discuss the evolution of Grace from a terrified bride to a seasoned warrior. We’ll break down the pitch-black comedy of the original’s mansion-setting versus the massive, "battle royale" energy of the 2026 sequel. Does the follow-up live up to the "explosive" reputation of the first, and is Samara Weaving officially our favorite modern horror icon? Tune in to find out if anyone makes it out alive! Spoilers start around 4:12.

This week on Friday Night Frightfest, we are exploring the terror of "Found Audio" and hijacked airwaves. We’re looking at how a simple recording can become a gateway to obsession and ancient evil. We’re comparing A24’s latest descent into audible terror, undertone (2026), with the gritty, neo-noir mystery of Broadcast Signal Intrusion (2021). Whether it’s a podcast co-host sending you cursed files or a masked figure interrupting the nightly news, these films prove that some signals should never be decoded. undertone (2026) Written and directed by Ian Tuason in a stunning directorial debut, undertone (stylized in all lowercase) is a masterclass in claustrophobic sound design. Nina Kiri stars as Evy, a skeptical horror podcast host who has moved back into her childhood home to care for her dying, comatose mother. When her co-host Justin (Adam DiMarco) receives a series of anonymous audio recordings, Evy begins to hear hidden messages in reverse—unearthing the legend of Abyzou, a demon that targets mothers and the unborn. Filmed in Tuason’s own family home, the movie never leaves the house, trapping the audience in a sonic nightmare where the silence is just as terrifying as the screams. Broadcast Signal Intrusion (2021) Directed by Jacob Gentry, this film takes us back to the late 90s and the world of analog obsession. Harry Shum Jr. stars as James, a video archivist grieving the disappearance of his wife. While digitizing old tapes, he stumbles upon a "broadcast signal intrusion"—a terrifying pirate broadcast featuring a person in a white, uncanny-valley mask. James falls down a rabbit hole of BBS message boards and urban legends, convinced that these intrusions are linked to a string of missing women. It’s a stylish, "cold" thriller that blends the aesthetic of The Ring with the paranoid conspiracy of Zodiac, proving that the search for the truth can be a death sentence. Join us as we discuss the "New Wave" of audio-centric horror. Spoilers start around 6:30.