THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA 2 movie review

A sequel about decline that unintentionally embodies it

The Devil Wears Prada 2 arrives with an intriguing premise: the decline of traditional print media and the cultural erosion that follows in its wake. On paper, that is fertile dramatic territory—especially for a franchise rooted in the world of fashion magazines, where prestige once carried weight and authority. But while the film gestures toward thoughtful commentary on the changing media landscape, its ambition collapses under the weight of its own excess. The sequel’s attempt to explore the decline of traditional print journalism—and the cultural loss that represents—is buried beneath rushed subplots and thin character work. The sharp bite that defined the original is gone, replaced by interactions that feel oddly dull and listless.

About the movie: Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway) returns to Runway as Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep) navigates a new media landscape and Runway‘s position within it. They reconnect with another former assistant, Emily (Emily Blunt), who is now the head of a luxury brand that possesses funding which could ensure Runway‘s survival.

The irony is difficult to ignore: a movie about the fading relevance of print media ends up feeling like a diminished version of its former self. What made the original The Devil Wears Prada so compelling was not merely its fashion or its humor, but its brazen confidence. The characters were bold, unapologetic, and sharply drawn. They possessed edge—sometimes cruelty, sometimes wit—but always energy.

That energy is conspicuously absent here. The sequel lacks the chutzpah that defined the original. The characters feel like muted versions of their former selves—recognizable, but drained of vitality.

Even Miranda Priestly, once a towering figure of authority and intimidation, feels diminished. She is simply not the same Miranda. Nor is she a believable evolution of that character in an era defined by the decline of print media and the increasing irrelevance of traditional fashion magazines. Instead, she feels like a sanitized, diluted interpretation—a kind of bargain-bin version of the woman who once commanded every room she entered.

Andy, meanwhile, remains recognizable as her former self, but a shallower one—less conflicted, less driven, less interesting. Emily comes closest to recapturing her original spark, yet even she feels like a low-resolution facsimile. Nigel is perhaps the most faithful to his earlier incarnation, but he is given remarkably little to do, functioning more as a reminder of the past than as an active participant in the present.

One of the film’s most significant problems is not a lack of ideas—it is an overabundance of them. The movie attempts to comment on a wide array of contemporary issues, each of which could have sustained a compelling narrative on its own. Among them:

  • The exploitation of labor in global fashion supply chains
  • The decline of print journalism and professional writing
  • Body positivity and changing beauty standards
  • Workplace political correctness
  • The tension between art and commerce
  • The fallibility of institutions and authority figures
  • Agism

These are all worthwhile themes. But instead of selecting one or two central ideas and developing them with clarity, the film introduces them in rapid succession, only to abandon them before they gain dramatic traction. The result is a story that feels scattered and unfocused.

There is a fundamental principle of storytelling that seems to have been forgotten here:
When your story is about everything, it is ultimately about nothing.

Adding to the problem is a roster of side characters who function less as people and more as props. They appear when needed, deliver exposition, and disappear without leaving any meaningful impression. They exist to move the plot forward rather than to inhabit it.

Even the film’s musical landscape reflects this sense of creative fatigue.

The soundtrack is largely forgettable—pleasant enough in the moment, but lacking the memorable punch that defined the original film’s sonic identity. One exception, of course, is Vogue, which remains as exhilarating as ever. Its inclusion feels less like nostalgia and more like a reminder of what bold artistic expression once sounded like.

By contrast, the contributions from Lady Gaga feel surprisingly inert—polished, competent, but oddly impersonal. The songs lack the distinctive flair and theatricality audiences have come to expect from an artist of her caliber. They register less as creative statements and more as algorithmic approximations of style.

From beginning to end, The Devil Wears Prada 2 feels like a discount version of its predecessor—an imitation rather than a continuation. It tries hard to recapture the magic of the original, but its creative DNA seems shaped by the streaming era: content designed for breadth rather than depth, immediacy rather than longevity. The film moves quickly, introduces ideas rapidly, and resolves conflicts hastily—mirroring the rhythms of modern digital consumption.

In that sense, the movie unintentionally becomes a commentary on the very cultural shifts it seeks to critique.

It is a product of the moment.

And like much of contemporary media, it feels engineered for engagement rather than crafted for impact. The Devil Wears Prada 2 reminds us that sequels are not sustained by familiarity alone. They require conviction, clarity of purpose, and characters who evolve in meaningful ways. This film has ideas—many of them compelling—but acks the narrative discipline necessary to bring those ideas to life. What remains is a glossy, well-dressed production that gestures toward relevance without ever achieving it.

The original film had bite—had fire.
This one barely leaves a mark.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media and host of the show ReelTalk “where you can join the cinematic conversations frame by frame each week.” Additionally, he is the author of the upcoming film studies book titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. After teaching film studies for over eight years at the University of Tampa, he transitioned from the classroom to public media. He is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

THE FALL GUY action movie review

Explosive fun! Universal Pictures The Fall Guy is one wild ride that connects with audiences! The thoughtful blend of self-referential humor and over-the-top, if not cheesy, action sequences work in tandem to entertain and thrill audiences. At the heart of this movie is a throwback-style romcom that is destined to warm even the most cynical of hearts. Moreover, this action-picked motion picture serves to spotlight the unsung heroes of many movies, the stunt performers, without whom we would not have the high stakes, death defying action sequences that we have today. And not just today, stunt performers have played a significant role in filmmaking since the beginning. The Fall Guy is a lively movie that whisks you off for the ride of your life that stumbles a little along the way, but sticks the landing.

After leaving the business one year earlier, battle-scarred stuntman Colt Seavers springs back into action when the star of a big studio movie suddenly disappears. As the mystery surrounding the missing actor deepens, Colt soon finds himself ensnared in a sinister plot that pushes him to the edge of a fall more dangerous than any stunt.

Such a crowd-pleasing cinematic spectacle! The summer blockbuster season is off to a strong start with this bombastic movie. Since I rarely watch trailers, I was unsure of what to expect, but I had a delightful time with this movie. The humor is mostly character-driven, but there are slapstick moments and almost camp-levels of action sequences that also serve as fuel for laughter. It’s a fun, popcorn flick that makes you laugh and smile all while being enthralled by the high-octane action. Some action movies that are devoid of humor or a romantic subplot can feel exhausting or shallow. Not the case with this one! This is both due to the strong writing and performative dimension.

More than an action/romcom, it also serves as a backstage movie, because of being set on a film set. And even more specifically, the technical achievement by camera operators, special effects technicians, and stunt performers. The movie spotlights the real danger that stunt performers face on set and the innate risks that come with this under-appreciated line of work. There is a human dimension to stunt work that so often goes overlooked, and The Fall Guy demonstrates the intrinsic value of stunt work and the real people that push their bodies to the limit to achieve action with dimension instead of simulated action in a computer.

The characters and the performances thereof elevate the entertainment value of the movie. Which is an important element because the screenplay does falter here and there from poor pacing. Some scenes are a little longer than they need to be while others are perhaps a little shorter than what they ought to be, which impacts the effectiveness of the exposition. But where the screenplay struggled, the cast makes up for the shortcomings! That’s not to say it’s a poorly written movie; quite the contrary, it’s mostly solidly written, just stumbles here and there. Emily Blunt and Ryan Gosling demonstrate excellent chemistry, and their relationship mountains and valleys feel genuine. They both share fantastic comedic and dramatic timing that crafts characters with dimension.

There is one particular line, that many may interpret as a throwaway or lacking in significant value, that I feel compelled to highlight. A character at a club states something to the effect of “movies try to be real, whilst cartoons know they aren’t real.” And the character prefers cartoons for that reason. This line was smartly written and delivers a important if not self-referential (or meta) message. Very little about The Fall Guy is supposed to feel real; it’s supposed to look like a fantasy set in the real world. What the movie is, is naturalistic. Everything happening in this film feels at home within the world of the movie. And yes, many, if not most, contemporary movies try so hard to not look fake or unbelievable. When movies should feel comfortable to take us to unbelievable heights to thrill us with entertaining, heart-warming, or scary stories. Being realistic is vastly overrated. There is a time and a place for it, but movies like The Fall Guy remind us of the value of a good story, regardless if it feels realistic in the real world.

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa and is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter. If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

A Quiet Place Part 2 Review

The less quiet sequel exchanges atmospheric horror for increased action and thrills.

For the conversation with me and Minorities Report Pod, click HERE.

Picking up where the first one left audiences, A Quiet Place Part 2 is bigger, louder, and delivers more monsters than Part 1. While you won’t be living with the same level of tension that you had in the first one, the sequel offers plenty of gripping action sequences and those eerily quiet moments where your neighbor’s Reese’s Pieces bag cracking may make you jump in your seat.

This movie is certainly making waves in the box office, and has many claiming “cinema is back.” Well, back would imply that it went away, which would be incorrect; cinemas started reopening last July. Anyway. What I can agree with is that it is the first new theatrical release to receive an incredibly warm welcome by those that have been attending the cinema since last July and those that are just now returning. In many ways, this movie could be considered event cinema because of the response from audiences during previews last Thursday through the holiday weekend (speaking of which, I hope you had a meaningful, enjoyable Memorial Day weekend).

Before picking up where you left off in the first movie, you will witness the first day that the aliens arrived. Following the events at home, the Abbott family now face the terrors of the outside world. Forced to venture into the unknown, they realize the creatures that hunt by sound are not the only threats lurking beyond the sand path. Along the way, they meet other survivors, but things are not at all what they seem.

There is no debate that A Quiet Place Part 2 is an excellently made movie. From the set design to the acting to the technical elements, everything works very well. And talk about audio design and engineering! The approach Krasinki took to place us in the shoes of Regan was brilliant. While it by no means was to illustrate an accurate portrait of what it must be like to be deaf, it was true to the world that we are in, in the film. Those moments that we are not hearing what Regan isn’t hearing, are certainly some of the most unnerving and frightening moments in the film. While I take issue with the story sacrificing atmospheric and methodical horror for more action, thrills, and monsters, I cannot deny that even the writing is solid, for the story Krasinki desired to tell, that is.

But what is it? Is it still a horror movie? And that is why I am writing my review. To tackle that very question. I could write about how well everything was executed, but you’ve heard all that as this film has been very well received, by in large, by audiences and critics alike.

After I watched it, I was left with a feeling of meh, and I couldn’t quite figure out why. It wasn’t the film’s technical execution, it wasn’t the performances, it wasn’t the direction, per se, so what was it? And after I saw an analogy using Alien:Aliens and Terminator:Terminator2, it hit me. A Quiet Place Part 2 isn’t horror (no matter what you’ve heard);. In fact, it’s less horror than Aliens is.

Why is this even important? Does it impact the quality of the film? No. But it’s important to talk about because the first installment was horror and the sequel was billed as a horror movie. What we have here is a bait’n switch. The experience of a cinematic work can (albeit not always) be impacted by the expectations you have for a particular film. I was all geared up for a first-run horror film in the cinema; but what I got was a family drama with a hefty amount of action and some horror-adjacency.

It was brought up on the Minorities Report Pod episode I guested on to review this movie that this switch from horror to action may have been unavoidable because the monsters are no longer unfamiliar to us; therefore, the tools that worked for horror are no longer applicable. While I can understand where that argument is coming from, simply because we are now familiar with the aliens/monsters, that doesn’t mean the film needed to leave the prestige of horror behind for something more attractive to mass audiences. Many horror sequels continue to be horror even as we become more familiar with the world and characters. Examples: Annabelle Creation, SCRE4M, ANOES: Dream Warriors, Conjuring 2, Halloween H20 and H40, The Babysitter: Killer Queen, and the list could go on.

During the live Q&A with Krasinski and J.J. Abrams after the film screening I was in, Abrams stated, “it shouldn’t be thought of as a horror movie, because it’s so much more.” Wow. Just wow. Abrams has to gaul to suggest that if a film is too good, if it is rich with social commentary and character development, that it can’t possibly be a horror film. This is completely untrue. Horror films are far more truthful than any direct drama. These are the films, over the century, that are still being studied today. Many of the greatest films of all time are horror, and they are great because they still have so much to teach us about ourselves and society.

Through the horror film, we can better understand just how complex life really is and even what it means to be human. Topics such as gender roles, parenting, sexuality, faith, religion, government, the family can all be best explored through the horror film. While Krasinski does include some great social commentary that is well-executed, I got on my little soap box because Abrams is wrong in his opinion on why A Quiet Place Part 2 has to be more than a horror film.

While it is not horror, A Quiet Place Part 2 is an accessible family drama/action movie with some heartwarming character moments, and some occasional horror-adjacency. It’s certainly an exciting film that is action-packed from beginning to end. There may not be anything particularly memorable about this movie, save the exceptional audio engineering and the bear trap, but you are sure to enjoy this lean film. Krasinski stated that his career as a writer/director was heavily influenced by Hitchcock. And while Krasinski has yet to master the art of suspense with a camera, he does show a commitment to one of Hitch’s rules for filmmaking, “start each scene as close to the end [of the scene] as possible.” In other words, Krasinski does an excellent job of trimming the fat, leaving audiences with an action-packed, thrill ride for just over 90-minutes.

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Ryan teaches screenwriting and film studies at the University of Tampa. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter or email him at RLTerry1@gmail.com! If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with or meet him in the theme parks!

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“Mary Poppins Returns” full film review

A spoonful of nostalgia isn’t enough to make the narrative go down. The highly anticipated Mary Poppins Returns hits theatres this week. Unfortunately, this film gets lost in nostalgia, neglecting the need to tell a new story. Instead, we get more than half a movie full of frivolity that lacks any coherent meaning or substance that is more concerned with hitting the same plot beats with similar songs at the same moments in this version as it was with the original. Visually, the movie is flawless and the animation sequences were a welcomed visit from the past. Reminded me of, if the animation from Bedknobs and Broomsticks and Mary Poppins got together, this is what you’d get. When creating a sequel that doubles as a remake, connections to the original are important but should not be at the diegetic forefront. Mary Poppins Returns exists in a gray area that is neither a sequel nor a remake. Had Mary Poppins Returns been a full-on sequel or remake, then perhaps the narrative would have faired better. As it stands, it sits uncomfortably in the middle and suffers from a bit of an identity crisis. Perhaps this version is lacking in critical value and complex characters, but it ranks highly in entertainment value. There isn’t anything particularly memorable about it except for the special appearances by Dick Van Dyke and Angela Lansbury, but the movie offers a couple hours of whimsical fun.

In depression-era London, the Banks family faces one of the greatest hardships a family can face–losing their home. Compounding the present state of affairs, the family is also coping with the recent loss of Michael Banks’ wife and mother of their three children. With help from the family’s longtime maid/cook Ellen and Michael’s sister Jane, the family hopes for the best while planning for the worst. With only five days until the house is repossessed, Michael remembers that his father left him shares of that infamous bank from his childhood; but when certificates of shares in the Fidelity Fiduciary Bank turn out to be missing, all hope seems lost until Michael, his children, and Jane get the surprise of a lifetime. Mary Poppins returns! Michael and Jane’s beloved nanny from their childhood returns to look after the family during this crisis. In true Mary Poppins fashion and accompanied by the lamplighter Jack, she whisks Michael’s children into a fun-filled adventure through the streets of London and into a world of imagination.

At the bedrock of the original are these lessons that must be learned. In many ways, Mary Poppins was a teacher to both Jane, Michael, and George. Although the lessons varied by character, they had one common denominator: life’s priorities. And there were no true villains–that is–evil or villainous out of malcontent or cruelty. And the songs had strong meaning, not just fun, creative lyrics to a show-stopping accompaniment. Furthermore, there was strong character development in the central characters. The character arcs of George and the kids were measurable. Even Mr. Dawes Sr. demonstrated measurable change. There are the elements of substance that make the original a timeless classic that transcends the decades and generations to remain a beloved film. Mary Poppins Returns fails to deliver any of these elements to the audience. Instead, chooses to get lost in the nostalgia of the original. Relying on the abstract of nostalgia to carry this remake-sequel.

While Michael’s lesson is clearly to learn to be a child again, his children learn the lesson to be quasi adults by teaching their father and working to solve the family’s financial crisis. Those two idea are in direct contradiction. Mary Poppins is no longer acting like a teacher but she seems more concerned with being an actual nanny moreso than the governess that was the original. If the lesson to be learned was to have the imagination or hope of a child, then that should have been taught, not two different lessons in direct contrast. George Banks may have been had his priorities in the wrong place, but he was not evil, nor was Mr. Dawes Sr. evil–he too had his priorities all askew. In Mary Poppins Returns, Colin Firth’s Mr. Wilkins is downright cruel for no reason other than simplistic greed. Simple motivators are a good place to start but should be developed to be more complex to add to the conflict. Firth’s character is completely uninteresting.

Talk about memorable songs in the original; I imagine you can recite most lyrics by memory, unlike this version with lyrics so convoluted and complex that they are largely forgettable. At the time of listening, the lyrics are poignant and work at the given emotional or plot beat, but then they are mostly forgotten. The songs in this one seem to exist only for the amusement of the audience. And the vaudeville number. Let’s talk about that for a moment. For starters, I love Mary’s wig that she borrowed from Catherine Zeta Jone’s Chicago costume. The music and lyrics in that number were incredibly entertaining–but–these same lyrics are quite risque in places. I was shocked that they were in a movie aimed at kids (despite the PG rating). And comparing the songs from the original to the ones in this version, each and every song in Mary Poppins Returns sounds similar AND comes at precisely the same beat as they did in the original. Each and every song in this one is an answer to the counterpart in the original. With one conspicuous exception, there is no equivalent for the Sister Suffragette. With Jane’s heavy involvement in workers’ rights (much like her mother’s women’s rights), it seems odd that she was not given a song since were were giving everyone else songs equivalent to the original. Yes, I am aware that Sister Suffragette is not in the Broadway musical, but it should have had a place in Mary Poppins Returns.

Structurally, the first two acts are all over the place. Fortunately, the film finishes with a strong third act. Everything seems so forced, rushed. Pacing matched the original. It’s as if the emotional beats and plot points from the original were mapped out and a “new” story was conformed to fit the old diegesis. There are even moments that can be completely removed from the story and not effect the outcome. For example, the entire Meryl Street scene has no impact on the realization of the narrative. Screenwriting 101 teaches us that each and every scene should point the audience toward the end–each scene should culminate in something important. Think of each scene as a paragraph in a larger story and each line of dialogue as a sentence in a larger paragraph. Each paragraph has a beginning, middle, and end; just like a story has a beginning, middle, and end. If a scene does not advance the plot, then it should be reworked or removed. We never revisit the cracked pot or truly embrace the idea of giving oneself a new perspective from which to view life. The song is fun, but that is all I can say about that scene. And there are other scenes in the movie that do little to advance the plot, but this is the most obvious one.

The movie is not without its entertainment value. If you are looking to escape reality for a couple of hours, then you are in the right place. You will be delighted with the whimsy and magic of this story. Perhaps the screenplay is poorly conceived, but everything else (from a technical perspective and performance perspective) works very well. If you enter the film with a heavy heart or some degree of sadness, the movie will help you forget your troubles for a moment and put a smile on your face and maybe even a tear or two in your eyes. Emily Blunt may not be a perfect Mary Poppins but she is practically perfect as the beloved nanny.

Ryan is a screenwriting professor at the University of Tampa. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog!

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“A Quiet Place” horror film review

Heart-pounding. Spine-chilling. A creepy creature-feature that will leave you speechless. The demonstrable excellence in terrifying visual storytelling can effectively be summed up by the queen of silent film herself Norma Desmond, “we didn’t need dialogue, we had faces” (Sunset Boulevard). A Quiet Place truly earns its place among “certified fresh” horror films. Not since Don’t Breath and 10 Cloverfield Lane have I encountered such a thrillingly intelligent motion picture. Writer-director John Krasinski’s post-apocalyptic horror masterpiece showcases the power of visual storytelling within the horror genre. Furthermore Krasinski brilliantly channeled the soul of the iconic (mostly Universal Pictures) silent and early horror films for his modern interpretation of the creature-feature. No gimmicks here. Only a solid plot that builds an incredible, immersive cinematic experience upon the foundation of a simple plot with simple limitations. Simple plot, complex characters. That basic screenwriting principle is where so many filmmakers and writers go astray. Film is a visual medium, often supported by well-crafted, lean dialogue, and this film has visual storytelling in spades. This film represents one of the best examples of embracing the concept of “show don’t tell.”

Shhhh. Don’t make a sound. One family finds themselves surviving a post-apocalyptic world now inhabited by an alien species that hunts by sound.

There has certainly been a resurgence of exceptional horror films over the last few years. I mentioned Don’t Breath and 10 Cloverfield Lane earlier, we also have the Academy Award nominated Get Out from last year and many others. While many may shrug their shoulders at horror because it is a proliferated genre with many cheep, tawdry horror flicks, this same genre can be incredibly intelligent in how it makes an observation of society and offers commentary, a new perspective, or provides a means to a discussion. Some of the most critically acclaimed films over the decades have been horror. Being among the first films commercially released, horror has also stood the test of time and provides audiences with a experience that challenges worldviews, provokes physiological responses, and fuels nightmares and imaginations.

One of the most brilliant aspects to A Quiet Place is the film’s innate ability to instantly hook the audience with loud silence. Going into the movie, audiences know that the arachnid-like creatures kill anything within an earshot. Therefore, the audiences hang onto every bump, snap, or thud as the tension rises and suspense is drawn out to terrifying levels. Impeccable audience engagement. It takes a special kind of movie to completely immerse the audience into the world of the film in a multidimensional way. In terms of viability of the film and cross-promotion, this movie certainly has what it takes to be a popular and successful adaptation for a house at Universal’s Halloween Horror Nights or Busch Gardens’ Howl-O-Scream. Definitely has a place among the best horror film experiences to date.

The successful suspense and tension building can be attributed to seldom getting a good look at the alien-arachnid-like creatures. Had the audience seen the creature repeatedly throughout the film, it would lose fright value. As Hitchcock stated, “there is nothing scarier than an unopened door.” Meaning, the filmmaker’s ability to transfer the terror on screen to the minds of the audience is far more powerful and impressive than relying upon on-the-nose scares and jump-scare gimmicks. Well-crafted suspense and rising tension carries far more weight, and has the ability to support a narrative so much more effectively than a cheap scare. Although the atmosphere in this film may remind you of Don’t Breath, and rightly so, Krasinski’s film does not quite measure up to the macabre, terrifying atmosphere that Fede Alvarez provided audiences; however, Krasinski’s A Quiet Place is extremely close to the aforementioned and deserves the accolades that it has received.

In terms of how to closely read A Quiet Place, the film provides exceptional social commentary on the perils parenting and, by extension, protecting one’s offspring. In fact, I imagine that the experience for parents watching this film exceeds the levels of terror felt by those of us who do not have kids. There is also plenty of material on how far a parent is willing to go in order to protect their children. I also appreciate the film’s commentary on expected mothers, and how they stop at nothing to protect their unborn child from that which seeks to do it harm. Responding to and working through grave tragedy is another heavy and shocking subject matter in the film. We all respond to death differently; many of us grieve differently than one another. Some bottle up all the negative feelings for fear of how to deal with them, and others blame themselves because they feel that there is something that could’ve been done differently to protect a lost loved one. On a lighter note, the film also provides metaphor on how to work with and handle your older kids when they seek to push the boundaries–boundaries that may be dangerous and place them in harm’s way. There is so much here to talk about, and I have just touched on the surface. That is why horror is the best genre for creatively exploring psycho-social constructs and other observations about humanity and the world in which we live.

Quietly make your way to your seat in the auditorium. A Quiet Place is definitely a film to be experienced on the big screen with a theatre full of others who seek to be frightened. Enjoy the refreshing originality of a film that could have so easily went by way of so many other creatures features that lack anything memorable, and just blend into the background with countless others in this subgenre of horror. It may not have the well-defined external goal and end game of Don’t Breath, but it is certainly exciting and fun! You’ll certainly be absorbed into this terrifying post-apocalyptic world, where YOU are afraid to go bump in the night.