Going Even Further: Insidious: Out of the Further (2026) Review

Director: Jacob Chase

Notable Cast: Amelia Eve, Island Austin, Brandon Perea, Lin Shaye, Maisie Richardson-Sellers, Sam Spruell, Joseph Lopez, Robina Beard, Susan Gray, Laura Gordon, Charli Pent 

 

If I’m being honest, there hasn’t been an Insidious movie that I didn’t like to some extent. Sure, I feel like most sequels have mixed results when it comes to balancing lore-building, genuine jump scares, and trying to interject some familial dramatic lessons, but they've all worked for me overall. Even when the series returned to the original family in the fifth installment, Insidious: The Red Door, it still had intriguing elements that made it really enjoyable for me. What the hell, why not go back to the father and son dynamic of the original film for a sort of legacy sequel in the middle of the series? I’ll take another trip into the Further with y’all. 

 

For this sixth entry, Insidious: Out of the Further, the series is absolutely looking to find what its next era is going to be about. If the first, second, and fifth entries focused on the Lambert family, and the third and fourth ones acted as prequels focusing on the medium Elise, played by the incredible Lin Shaye, maybe it was about time the series introduced some new characters and their own lore within the world of Insidious. 

 

Thus, Out of the Further focuses on the Hall Family and how their familial lineage has ties to the purgatorial ghost realm, The Further. Jacob Chase, who serves as the writer and director, is aiming to establish new lore and new villains within the world while still maintaining the aspects of the series that fans have come to love - brilliantly laid tension and jump scares, monstrous creatures from the realm of death, and family-focused emotional merits. In those ways, Out of the Further is absolutely in line with the rest of the franchise. 

 

The Love of a Mother: Paradise Lost (2026) Review

Director: Yeon Sang-ho
Notable Cast: Kim Hyun-joo, Bae Hyeon-seong

So-young is a grieving mother who lost her son in a bus kidnapping accident some 9 years ago. She spends her days with an AI-generated version of her missing son through a company that created high-tech glasses that let parents reconnect with their children from the tragedy through projections in the lenses. So-young has spent years with her son this way and finds herself feeling good. 

One day, however, a young man appears at a local police station, and as fate would have it, it is her missing son, now fully grown. With her world suddenly coming to a stop yet again, she is torn between the bond she feels with her young son who never grew up, waiting for her every day in the digital world, and the real son, cold and mysterious, who has walked back into her life. Yes, a lot more happens, but this is the core idea that drives the story and themes along for a thrilling, emotionally charged ride. With both Colony and now Paradise Lost, 2026 is looking to be the year of Yeon Sang-ho, and I'm all here for it!

It's All Complicated: Wildwood (2026) Review

Director: Travis Knight

Notable Cast: Peyton Elizabeth Lee, Jacob Tremblay, Carey Mulligan, Mahershala Ali, Angela Bassett, Awkwafina, Jake Johnson, Charlie Day, Amandla Stenberg, Jemaine Clement, Maya Erskine, Tantoo Cardinal, Tom Waits, Richard E. Grant, Arthur Knight

 

Whenever a new Laika film is announced, it’s a time to celebrate. Stop-motion animation may have been seen as an antiquated process, too time-consuming and too expensive to warrant use, yet over the last couple of decades, it's become a universal form of cinematic expression, a way for auteur storytellers to showcase their dedication to “hands-on” creativity. In the wake of an AI explosion, particularly the tidal wave of inhuman generative AI slop, stop-motion animation feels remarkably comfortable, standing as a bastion of an art form whose artists' fingerprints are literally all over it. 

 

For that reason alone, I would suggest everyone see the latest Laika film, Wildwood. Blood, sweat, tears, patience, creativity, and determination are all on screen, in every frame, of a film in this form, and that in itself is a lighthouse in the story of AI. Odd to think about, considering Laika announced this film 15 years ago, which feels like eons before generative AI even existed. Which, to be fair, makes my stomach hurt to think about. 

 

Yet, that’s not the only reason to see Wildwood. Say what you want about supporting art, specifically art of any type in the wake of extinction at the hands of bots, but supporting great art makes it easy. Wildwood is absolutely that. Travis Knight and his team have crafted perhaps the greatest stop-motion animated spectacle of all time, built on magical, fantastical designs and powered by a coming-of-age story that grapples with the complicated morals and emotions of a modern world; Wildwood is totemic. Its execution rivals the magic of its characters, its heart beats to the rhythm of its artistic integrity, and it still manages to be one of the most thrilling fantasy adventures of the last 20 years. Wildwood is the pinnacle of what Laika was built to do as a studio, and seeing it succeed so effortlessly is the kind of cinematic enchantment we need these days. 

 

If Toys Could Talk: Dolly (2026) Review

Director: Rod Blackhurst

Notable Cast: Fabianne Therese, Seann William Scott, Max the Impaler, Ethan Suplee, Russ Tiller, Michalina Scorzelli, Kate Cobb

 

There’s something to be said about filming on real film. There’s also something to be said about filming on 16mm that really makes a film feel like it belongs to a different era. For a slasher survivalist film like Dolly, that choice alone makes a hell of a difference in setting it apart from its peers in the subgenre. 

 

Yet Rod Blackhurst’s throwback grindhouse feature, Dolly, relies on its aesthetics and those (now) unconventional low-budget horror choices to carry a lot of the load. It’s a film built on the basics of 70s slasher and survival tropes, but without the meta commentary so many modern films love. Instead, it doubles down on its love for the grindhouse aesthetic, asking audiences to buy into the feeling of finding a long-lost regional horror film from that era, and guns for it. Its aesthetics are certainly carrying a lot of the film's buy-in.

It’s absolutely a respectable approach, and Dolly embraces it, warts and all. 

Locked and Unloaded: Ghost in the Cell (2026) Review

Director: Joko Anwar

Notable Cast: Abimana Aryasatya, Bront Palarae, Dimas Danang, Endy Arfian, Lukman Sardi, Mike Lucock, Yoga Pratama, Morgan Oey, Aming Sugandhi, Rio Dewanto, Tora Sudiro, Almanzo Konoralma, Kiki Narendra, Haydar Salishz, Arswendy Bening Swara

What makes Joko Anwar such a fascinating director is his dedication to pushing himself into new artistic territory. He’s mostly known for his horror output, sure, including the incredible Satan’s Slaves films and the opening sequence of Impetigore, which might be one of the scariest things you will ever watch, but he doesn’t stop there. Last year, Amazon supported him as he went for pure action in The Siege at Thorn High; he pulled a comedy with Joni’s Promise, and he even went for a more subtle romantic crime drama in A Copy of My Mind. Anwar isn't afraid to push himself into new territory, and I have mad respect for that. 

 

His latest, Ghost in the Cell, has him taking his horror chops and heaving them fully into comedic territory. With flashes of Sam Raimi influences, particularly Evil Dead 2 or Army of Darkness era, Anwar has written, directed, and edited a film that should absolutely create some new pathways for fans to discover his films. Ghost in the Cell is brutally violent, occasionally creepy, and wholly slapstick in how it approaches its characters and their outlandish situation. The mix is certainly energetic, popping in big moments, but it’s not nearly as finely tuned as one might hope to deliver the gags, both comedic and gore-induced.

 

The Sadness of Divide: Frankenstein (1931) Review

Director: James Whale

Notable Cast: Colin Clive, Mae Clark, John Boles, Boris Karloff

 

Note: This review contains spoilers for the film. 

 

“The man who made a monster.”

For a film released in 1931, which is quickly sprinting towards its 100th year of existence in the world, it’s stunning to think about how close to perfect Frankenstein is as a film. Just look at that tagline above. “The man who made a monster.” Not only is it provocative in terms of its promises to its viewers, dissecting the titular doctor who has reached infamy in the last decade of decades, but it’s a tagline that seriously works on multiple levels for those familiar with Universal’s iconic monster film. Yes, you will get men. Yes, you will get monsters. Yes, you will see how intrinsically they are tied together.

 

The question that lingers over James Whale’s adaptation of Mary Shelley’s novel is whether or not Frankenstein’s creation is actually a monster at all, particularly compared to his creator, but the tagline - in all of its simplicity - adds a layer to it. If Frankenstein is the monster and his creation is the man, then is it the fact that he even succeeded in creating a man that makes him the monster? Can a person, any person, be a monster if not compared to mankind?

 

Yet, that’s the brilliance of what Whale has crafted with Frankenstein. Cinephiles have surgically dissected it for decades, layer by layer, for its themes and execution, yet it still remains a watchable slice of entertainment that grows with repeated viewings. I watched this film repeatedly as a child, rewinding my VHS copy again and again rather than seeking out the new Disney film like some of my childhood friends did, and as an adult, it means even more to me beyond nostalgia. It’s a film about the human experience, or lack thereof, crafted as an early-era horror flick whose universal themes and critiques stand the test of time thanks to its incredible execution. 

 

Or, in more simplistic terms, a masterpiece of cinema. 

 

Gamble in the Devil's Den: Tazza: The Song of Beelzebub (2026) Review

Director: Choi Kook-hee

Notable Cast: Byun Yo-han, Roh Jae-won, Miyoshi Ayaka, Ihara Tsuyoshi

Back in 2006, Choi Dong-hoon launched an unexpected franchise with Tazza: The High Rollers, an iconic South Korean film of the era that fans point to when speaking of the country's most entertaining films. Since then, a multitude of sequels and TV series have spanned the decades since the webtoon was first adapted. Needless to say, Tazza has become big and we see regular entries in the cinematic endeavors every handful of years, and while I have yet to see One-eyed Jacks (entry) I am a fan of both Choi's original film and the first follow-up from Kang Hyeong-cheol in 2014, The Hidden Card. How does Tazza: The Song of Beelzebub stack up against its previous counterparts? Let's take a gamble and see.

Jang Tae-Young (Byun Yo-Han) is a very cunning and extremely intelligent man who starts a gambling business. He brings his friend Park Tae-Young (Roh Jae-Won), a poker prodigy, on board to embark on this business adventure together. Park, while the more gifted of the two, always feels inferior to Jang and his natural knack for taking big risks and ultimately earning huge payouts in life, but he ends up betraying his partner and leaving him stranded with nothing. I don't wanna spoil where things lead, but in a revenge-set fashion, Jang is out to make it back into the fray and to get to the bottom of his sudden situation. 

The Nature of Nurture: Nightborn (2026)

Director: Hanna Bergholm 

Notable Cast: Seidi Haarla, Rupert Grint, Pamela Tola, Pirkko Saisio

 

To this day, motherhood remains one of horror's most fertile concepts. Whether it leans into the body horror of it all, the psychological terror, or just some of the experiences of pregnancy, childbirth, and the years after raising a child, motherhood just remains one of the best cinematic ways to link a human experience with horror. Becoming a mother fully encapsulates the physical, mental, moral, and social expectations placed on women. Each aspect has its own story and can go horrifically awry, and combining them all into one? Oof. And that’s just reality. That’s not even a movie. 

 

Finnish writer and director Hanna Bergholm focused on the relationships between mother and daughter in her debut feature-length horror film, Hatching, which managed to craft a creature feature (complete with incredible creature designs and special effects) from a relationship drama told from a young girl’s perspective on her relationship with her mother and the roles they play. 

 

For her follow-up, Bergholm aims for similar territory, but from the mother’s perspective. Nightborn, originally titled Yön lapsi, aims to dissect and showcase the horrors of motherhood with a slight folk-horror angle, but never loses sight of its bigger messages around its main character, and adds slick dark humor throughout. It’s a wildly strong union that feels distinctive to the director and its perspective, with incredible production design choices, but it rings true universally in its lens on motherhood.

Never Kneel to Hardship: Ip Man: Kung Fu Legend (2026)

Director: Li Liming

Notable Cast: Dennis To, Yoko Wang Wan-Zhong, Zhang Tingfei, Zhao Jingzhuyu, Pan Yuanjia, Steven Dasz, Yan Yanlong, Lee Yiu-King, Zhou Xiaofei, Wu Xinzun, Tong Xiaohu, Philip Condron

 

“We in the martial arts community kneel to heaven, to earth, and to our ancestors, but never to hardship.” 

 

Say what you will, but that quote from Ip Man: Kung Fu Legend exemplifies the Ipsploitation genre to a ‘T.’ No matter what, the resilience of how the industry will continue to craft a cinematic myth around Ip Man will defy all hardships - including poor reception or budgetary restraints. This is a genre that absolutely, positively will not kneel to hardship. 

 

To be fair, while Li Liming’s Ipsploitation flick, Ip Man: Kung Fu Master, was low-key fairly fun (you are welcome to read my article on the film over at the 36 Styles website HERE), I’m not sure I expected that one to start a new Ip Man franchise outside of the Donnie Yen series. It was entertaining enough; Dennis To returned to the main role after playing him in the prequel Ipsploitation flick, The Legend is Born: Ip Man, and it had some fun fight sequences, but it’s not like it was reigniting the fires in my soul. 

Still, when it was announced that the director and star of Kung Fu Master would be returning for its sequel, Ip Man: Kung Fu Legend (try not to get too confused with those similar titles), I was pleasantly surprised. Kung Fu Master was fun, so a sequel would just naturally keep that going, right? Right?

 

Yet, Kung Fu Legend represents the overall laziness that exploitation genres can unfortunately fall victim to. It feels like it wants to touch on the story elements of the far superior - and undervalued - Donnie Yen flick, Ip Man 2, but it lacks some of the brashness and stylistic elements that made that film feel like an old-school kung fu flick modernized. Instead, Kung Fu Legend runs the blueprint hard and rarely digs deeper than the surface to reach its themes, and it certainly doesn't want to dig into any real character arc for Ip Man. This is a film where people in strife, fending off some mustache-twirling Western bad guys, need a hero, and Ip Man is going to Wing Chun them to victory. For some, that might be enough, but when some of the other Ipsploitation flicks have found a voice or reason for existence, this one struggles to do so.

 

What Consumes You, Forces You To Consume: Saccharine (2026) Review

Director: Natalie Erika James

Notable Cast: Midori Francis, Danielle Macdonald, Madeleine Madden, Robert Taylor, Showko Showfukutei, Octavia Barron-Martin, Anna Adams

 

Director and writer Natalie Erika James tackled many intriguing narrative elements from a female perspective in her first two films. With Relic, she tackled what it looks like to have a “disease” within your family and how it works on women in its multi-generational character studies, and she even managed to squeeze out some intriguingly strong sequences when tasked with remaking- sorry, I mean crafting a prequel to Rosemary’s Baby in Apartment 7A.

The latter was more mundane than the former's intensely interwoven social commentary and haunted house narrative, but the American-Australian filmmaker has a style that uses distinctive perspectives to dig into women's social and internal plights while still delivering horror movie frights. It’s a one-two jab and uppercut that can work impressively when it’s moving cohesively. Her third feature film, Saccharine, aims for the same balance, particularly feeling like a more proper follow-up to Relic than Apartment 7A, and the results are, unfortunately, perhaps more mixed than one would have hoped for. 

 

Saccharine does earn some credit, though, because it touches on fascinating aspects of its narrative throughout, even if its messaging gets muddled. Like both previous films, James - who serves as the writer and director - wants all of the horror and plotting choices to mean something, and she absolutely tries to make that work.