Death of Me

It starts out with a weird echo of the Hangover movies, then morphs into a variation on classic horrors such as The Wicker Man and even Rosemary's Baby - but with none of the dark impish wit that you'd hope for with borrowings like those.

A movie that takes a fresh idea and decides that the best way to present it is through tropes and clichés from better films.

Bousman's film pulls off some effectively nasty jolts and jabs: its feverish, whispery, eventually shrieking island-of-lost-souls claustrophobia may be rooted in cliché, but cliché takes root for a reason.

Death of Me is a mind-bogglingly tedious bit of vaguely racist horseshit that is devoid of chills, thrills, or even cheap gore.

Familiar faces find themselves stranded and confused in an unfamiliar land. A new film and new style from director Darren Lynn Bousman, which is effective but somewhat problematic.

Takes an intriguing and slightly disturbing initial premise and then proceeds to do nothing of interest with it.

It beats me what the hell is going on.

Occasionally, there's a movie that's so dumb, dull and tedious that one wonders who and why it ever got made.

Steeped in dark magic and ancient tribalism, Death of Me isn't the freshest take on the genre but it's still a good one.

Death Of Me is not the smartest nor the most original horror film, but the sheer inertia of the story and the question of faith at its core make it an interesting enough watch.