Blank Man: A Film About Heart, Justice, And Silly-Billy-Gumdrops!

In the summer of 1994, while America was still humming along to Boyz II Men and arguing about the O.J. Simpson chase, Damon Wayans stepped onto movie screens dressed in long underwear, goggles, and an old bathrobe. His character, Darryl Walker, was not handsome or slick. He was shy, brilliant, socially awkward—a man who tinkered with gadgets the way other people pray. And when his grandmother was murdered by a street gang, he did something audacious. He didn’t pick up a gun. He picked up a soldering iron.

Not Another Superman Movie: When even the villains didn’t show up to work...

Plot Summary? More Like Plot Suggestion. Let’s try to piece this thing together, shall we?

Our story begins—as all creatively bankrupt reboots do—with a moody, brooding Superman hovering over Earth like he’s trying to remember if he left the stove on. The movie pretends it’s about legacy, alienation, and finding purpose in a post-Justice League world, but let’s be honest: it’s really about Krypto the Superdog, who gets more action, more character development, and more emotionally resonant moments than Clark Kent himself.

A TV Crushed His Head, But Not His Spirit: The Case for Stu Macher’s Return

For nearly three decades, Scream has remained a defining force in horror, constantly evolving and subverting expectations. From its genre-defining deconstruction in 1996 to the introduction of the “requel” era, the franchise has thrived on its ability to push boundaries. Now, as Scream 7 approaches, speculation has reached a fever pitch over the return of one of the most infamous Ghostface killers: Stu Macher. While Scream fans have long debated his fate, mounting evidence, thematic consistency, and narrative potential suggest that Stu’s return isn’t just possible—it’s the most logical next step for the franchise.

The Toxic Rise and Radioactive Fall of the Toxic Crusaders Toy Line.

By the time Toxic Crusaders entered the 1990s toy and animation market, the landscape was already saturated with mutant superheroes, anthropomorphic warriors, and various action-packed cartoons designed for the sole purpose of selling toys. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles phenomenon had created a boom in which every toy company scrambled to launch the next big multi-media, kid-friendly action franchise. Some succeeded (Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers), but many crashed and burned (Biker Mice from Mars, Street Sharks, SWAT Kats), and Toxic Crusaders would, unfortunately, land in the latter category.

Captain America: Brave New World – A Half-Baked, Half-Hearted, Half-Assed Sequel to a Movie We Forgot About.

Oh, Captain, my Captain, what has Marvel done to you? What has Marvel done to all of us? And, more importantly, what has Marvel done to themselves?

As a Marvel fan, it is my solemn, masochistic duty to watch every single theatrical release (I can’t… I just can’t) and every Disney+ mini-series (I can’t… I just… listen, I’m not a masochist). Ever since the Infinity Saga wrapped up in a bow of perfection, we, the fans, have been unknowingly conditioned to expect well-written, top-tier, comic-accurate (for the most part) productions. Marvel couldn’t miss. They were cranking out billion-dollar blockbusters like Kevin Feige had a money printer hidden under his baseball cap. The formula had been perfected, much like Bruce Banner’s Hulk transformation—each film bigger, stronger, smashing harder.

Pet Sematary (1989): A Cinematic Exploration of Grief, Ego, and the Inescapable Nature of Death

Horror is often mischaracterized as a genre built solely on fear—on blood, on shadows lurking in the dark, on creatures and killers that stalk their victims in the night. But true horror, the kind that lingers, the kind that permeates the mind and soul, does not rely on the grotesque or the supernatural. It is the horror of inevitability, of powerlessness, of watching something unfold with the growing realization that there is no stopping it. Pet Sematary, released in 1989 and directed by Mary Lambert, is a film that understands this. Based on Stephen King’s harrowing 1983 novel, the film is not just a ghost story, nor is it merely a cautionary tale about meddling with forces beyond human comprehension. It is a dissertation on grief, denial, and the slow, soul-consuming nature of loss, a story about a man who cannot accept what life has taken from him, who cannot admit his own limitations, and who, in his desperation, brings about his own destruction.

Scream 7: How the Franchise Might Change Horror—Forever… Again

The year was nineteen hundred and ninety-six. Month: December. Day: 20th. I was fourteen years old, and I was about to witness a film that would change horror forever. But first—I had to ditch school.

The Marvels: A Cosmic Catastrophe That Even Time Travel Can’t Fix

Alright, let’s properly unravel the cinematic chaos that is The Marvels—or as I’ve come to think of it, How to Lose a Fanbase in 90 Minutes. Strap in, because this is going to be a ride—one filled with time jumps, existential dread, and the gnawing feeling that someone out there got paid millions to make this.

Mac and Me: Why Hollywood Will Repeat Its Most Cynical Mistake

As one of the most infamous flops in film history, Mac and Me (1988) stands as a monument to the perils of corporate filmmaking. Bankrolled by McDonald’s, the film cynically attempted to capitalize on both the cultural love for E.T. and the fast-food chain’s dominance in marketing to children. The result was not only an unintentional comedy of errors but also a cautionary tale about prioritizing brand synergy over genuine storytelling.

The Overlooked Brilliance of The Fly II: A Worthy Heir to a Body Horror Classic

David Cronenberg’s The Fly (1986) is a towering achievement in cinema, a haunting meditation on love, science, and the fragility of the human body. Its visceral blend of tragedy and body horror has earned it a place among the genre’s greatest masterpieces. Yet, its sequel, The Fly II (1989), has languished in the shadow of its predecessor, often dismissed as a pale imitation. This dismissal is not only unfair but also fails to recognize the sequel’s unique contributions to the mythology of The Fly. When examined on its own terms, The Fly II emerges as a deeply resonant film that expands on the themes of the original, delivering its own brand of emotional devastation and horrifying spectacle.

The Toxic Avenger: A Radioactive Rumble of Chaos, Camp, and Justice

The Toxic Avenger is the movie equivalent of a mud-wrestling match held behind a rundown gym—filthy, chaotic, and an absolute blast to watch. It’s the masterpiece of misfit cinema, a potent radioactive cocktail that mixes vigilante justice with campy absurdity in ways that’ll make you question your own sanity. If that sounds like a good time to you, then strap in, because this flick is a wild ride from the very first toxic splash.

The Return of the Living Dead: The Punk Rock Zombie Apocalypse You Didn’t Know You Needed!

Once in a while, a movie comes along that doesn’t just shake the status quo; it dropkicks it into a flaming dumpster. The Return of the Living Dead (1985) is that movie. Directed by Dan O’Bannon—who went from writing Alien to creating this chaotic masterpiece—this film didn’t just breathe new life into the zombie genre. It puked, danced, and moshed its way into cinematic history. This isn’t your typical “slow-moving, head-shot-solves-everything” zombie flick. No, The Return of the Living Dead takes the rulebook, douses it in Trioxin gas, and lets it rise again as something completely unhinged.

Masters of the Universe: The Rise and Fall of an ’80s Cinematic Experiment

Released in 1987 by Cannon Films, Masters of the Universe was a bold attempt to adapt Mattel’s wildly successful toy line and the accompanying animated series (He-Man and the Masters of the Universe) into a big-budget, live-action motion picture. Directed by Gary Goddard and starring Dolph Lundgren in the titular role, the film sought to capture the fantasy, heroism, and otherworldly allure that had enthralled children throughout the early to mid-1980s. The resulting production, however, arrived at a time of shifting market conditions—declining toy sales, budgetary pressures, and changing audience tastes—and ultimately failed to achieve critical or commercial success.

The Blob (1988): A Gooey Triumph of Practical Effects and Cult Nostalgi

Chuck Russell’s 1988 remake of The Blob may seem at first glance like a run-of-the-mill '80s horror rehash, but beneath its gelatinous surface lies a thrilling exploration of practical effects, small-town paranoia, and what happens when you underestimate a B-movie concept. Kevin Dillon’s mullet and Shawnee Smith’s cheerleader-turned-badass combo headline a film that’s equal parts campy fun and visceral terror. In a time when horror leaned heavily on slashers, The Blob dared to turn the enemy into an amorphous, unstoppable force of nature—and it’s deliciously horrifying.

My Pet Monster (1986): A Miscalculated Relic of the 80s That Never Stood a Chance

The 1980s were a time of remarkable creativity and experimentation in cinema, producing beloved classics that captured the imaginations of children and adults alike. However, not every concept struck gold. My Pet Monster (1986), based on the popular toy of the same name, was a bold attempt to capitalize on the decade’s booming toy-to-screen pipeline—a trend that brought franchises like Transformers and He-Man to cultural dominance. Unfortunately, this direct-to-video oddity never gained traction at the box office (or even the video rental shelves) and has since faded into relative obscurity.

Oh, What a Tangled Web We Never Saw: The Saga of James Cameron’s Spider-Man.

Spider-Man might be your friendly neighborhood hero today, swinging across cinema screens with box office record-breaking ease, but there was a time when his web got tangled in legal dramas, creative differences, and a script that read more like a fever dream than a superhero blockbuster. Enter James Cameron, the maestro of epic cinema, the man who made us terrified of robots (Terminator), space bugs (Aliens), and icebergs (Titanic).

From Popcorn Dreams to Babysitter Screams: The Tragic Decline of Movie Magic

When I was a kid, going to the movies was everything. Forget Disney World—those sticky theater floors and the screen wider than my imagination were the real most exciting place on Earth. It wasn’t just about watching a movie; it was about experiencing the magic of cinema. For 90 glorious minutes, you were transported to another world, where practical effects made you believe dinosaurs were real, spaceships could travel faster than light, and explosions always happened in slow motion (because why not?).

Trashing Conventions: A Critical Analysis of Garbage Pail Kids: The Movie

In the annals of 1980s pop culture, Garbage Pail Kids: The Movie stands as a perplexing artifact that straddles the line between commercial miscalculation and cult oddity. Released in 1987 and directed by Rod Amateau, this film adaptation of the popular (and often controversial) trading cards proved to be a spectacular critical and commercial flop upon its debut. Yet, beneath its off-putting visuals and seemingly incoherent narrative, Garbage Pail Kids: The Movie offers a curious case study in the limits of mainstream children’s entertainment, the impact of merchandising-driven cinema, and the collision between countercultural satire and corporate commodification.

Jason Takes Manhattan: An Ambitious Misstep in the Friday the 13th Saga

Released in 1989, Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan marked a significant departure from the familiar environs of Camp Crystal Lake. Directed by Rob Hedden, this eighth installment in the long-running slasher franchise attempted to reinvigorate the series by placing its iconic antagonist, Jason Voorhees, in the bustling urban landscape of New York City. The film’s premise—promising an adrenaline-charged collision between rural horror and metropolitan chaos—remains an intriguing concept. However, despite the potential for fresh narrative and stylistic opportunities, the end result stands as a polarizing entry that reveals both the creative constraints of franchise filmmaking and the evolving expectations of late-1980s horror audiences.

“Gremlins 2: The New Batch” – A Satirical Laboratory of Genre Subversion

Released in 1990, Gremlins 2: The New Batch stands as a testament to director Joe Dante’s distinct blend of anarchic humor, self-referential satire, and affectionate nods to Hollywood’s past. Serving as a sequel to the 1984 hit Gremlins, this film significantly shifts the original’s tone, departing from its blend of horror and dark comedy to embrace a more overtly comedic and meta-textual approach. From its critique of corporate consumerism to its playful dissection of sequel tropes, Gremlins 2 has earned a cult following for daring to undermine the very conventions that spawned it.