Slashers

It was a lot easier to give the lowest rating to a movie when I was in my late teens or early twenties. In that black-and-white perspective, it's very simple to get excited about something or, on the contrary, to quickly condemn a film. Later on, I entered an ongoing phase where I can find at least one good scene, a nice camera shot, a memorable joke, or one of my favorite actors in almost every film, and I don't want to spoil their filmography with that ugly label of "boo!" And of course, it's also because with the drop in free time, I think twice about wasting it on something where there's no chance for a decent rating. I had to make completely sure of it, but I haven't given a rating this low to a feature film in more than twelve years, specifically since the time when the then-newcomer Postal by Uwe Boll deserved it. But with Slashers, there's no other way. Not a single functioning scene, not one good or at least tolerable actor, no well-developed plot, an annoying trio of enemies, and a monotonous camera. If I had known beforehand that it was a two-hour (yes, on Netflix I stumbled upon a special extended version) fan film, maybe I would have been more forgiving, but in this case, I can only curse my current craving for a horror film with satirical resonance. However, that only comes through seriously in the premise, which mostly just hurts by the end, bringing absolutely nothing. Anything you can come up with in your head, even the most miniscule twist, would definitely be better than the empty and pointless conclusion. I understand satisfied ratings from local genre enthusiasts less than ever before. (10/29/2021)