Sinister (2012)

Turn on a light, Ellison. That’s honestly the whole review, but there’s a word count to hit. Ethan Hawke’s true crime writer spends half of Sinister creeping around his dark house with a flashlight like light switches cost extra. The plot also explains its own monster a bit too much, with a helpful expert on a video call filling in the lore. Fine. Because when those old film reels start rolling in his office, the projector clattering and the music grinding underneath, this thing gets under your skin without showing you much. The less it explains, the scarier it gets. Hawke is very good as a man whose pride keeps his family in a house he should have left on day one. James Ransone’s starstruck deputy is the comic relief, and he’s great. It made $82.5 million worldwide on a reported $3M, a wild haul for a box of home movies. A 6.3 because the dread works even when the hero’s decisions don’t. $4,586 says you flip on every hallway light tonight before taking a single step.

What works: The film reels and the grinding score build a deep, sticky dread, and Ethan Hawke sells a man ruled by his own pride.

What doesn’t: Ellison’s refusal to ever turn on a light gets silly, and the lore dumps over video calls drain the mystery.

Who it’s for: Horror fans who like slow-building dread and creepy found footage more than gore.