This is how hard you’ll scream in this movie.

Dudes, I’m writing this from my closet from my couch. I’m not trapped in it or anything, fuck R. Kelly. No, it just seems like the safest place in my house right now after watching Sinister.

I know, I know, I should be a fucking man. Go out there and kill some monsters or whatever. I don’t care right now. Sinister fucked my shit up didn’t scare me at all, man. Honestly, I haven’t had a flick freak me out so much since Blair Witch. Yet, interestingly enough, I’m not sure if it was a good movie, by technical standards. And, on the other hand, do I even give a shit if it fulfilled it’s job at scaring me?

Cause, pretty much every genre starts with a promise, the good ones at least. Action movies will pump you up. Romantic comedies will make you swoon. Comedies will make you laugh. And, hopefully, horror films will make you piss your pants. Sinister kind of throws out plot in favor of making you scared shitless mildly frightened, and I think I’m ok with that.

The movie is about a family that moves into a new house. Mr. Ex-Uma Thurman is the father who finds a bunch of tapes in the attic. The tapes are full of inventively violent murders. That’s pretty much it. I mean, sure, there’s the mystery of WHO or WHAT made the tapes. But pretty much it’s just Mr. Ex-Uma Thurman sitting in a room and watching people die.

That’s why I have to be a little, and I do mean very little, hard on the plot. Yes, I get it, the film is playing on the whole found footage fad that most horror films thrive on these days. It’s pretty clever but, ultimately, the film IS basically just a dude watching movies in a room.

But, fuck, those movies are freaky as shit, yo. Why the hell else would I be holed up in a closet  on my couch peeing my pants acting like a manly stud with six pack abs?

It’s almost like watching a haunted house. You know there’s no real redeeming qualities to it. But it still thrills you when a boogy-man jumps out at you and scares you shitless only slightly frightens you. You pay to be frightened. I didn’t walk in there to see Shakespeare.

And I feel like that’s what genre movies come down to: fulfill your promise and I won’t hate you. You’re a comedy? Make me laugh! You’re an action movie? Make me want to punch a hole in the wall with manly aggression, EEEEAARRRGGGGG!!!! A horror movie? Make me want to sneak into my mother’s bedroom be really manly like a boss.

Grade: A Not At All Frightened B