Author name: Vincent Volcano

By Vincent Volcano, Retired Tormentor of Taste I took a night off from stoking the lava falls to screen The Get Out, a title that sounds like a studio note got drunk and wandered into final cut. The premise? A young man visits his girlfriend’s unsettling family estate and discovers that beneath the artisanal hors […]

By Vincent Volcano, retired Hellwood arsonist of emotion and accidental OSHA violation. Scarf aflame, temper pre-heated. Initial Shriek “Jackass: Best and Last” promises One. Last. Ride. Which is fitting, because it feels less like a ride and more like being towed behind a shopping cart into a fireworks outlet. Again. Knoxville and the original rogues

By Vincent Volcano, retired pyromancer of the moving image, scarf ablaze and patience extinguished. Initial blast Leviticus arrives like a smoldering coal kicked out of Australia’s furnace: hot to the touch, strangely familiar, and liable to brand you with déjà vu in the shape of It Follows. Adrian Chiarella’s debut courts desire, dread, and a

By Vincent Volcano, retired Hellwood arsonist of emotion, wearer of a fiery red scarf, and unwilling subscriber to nostalgia bundles I’ve seen eternity. It looks like a Disney+ splash screen that keeps asking if I’m still watching. Flames Fade, but Classics Burn Forever! Pity no one told the algorithms. Season 2 of X-Men ’97 warps

By Vincent Volcano, Hellwood’s retired firebrand, currently critiquing from a lava recliner. Flames Fade, but Classics Burn Forever! Initial Sizzle The sixth Scary Movie lurches onto screens like a resurrected ghoul that can’t remember why it crawled out of its grave but brought a fog machine anyway. In my day, we bled for our laughs—corn

By Vincent Volcano, retired Hellwood arsonist of emotion, scarf still smoldering. Flames Fade, but Classics Burn Forever! The pitch: Stranger Things but with AARP benefits. Netflix arrives at the bingo hall with eight episodes of paranormal prune juice, starring an ensemble so decorated you could hang them on Hell’s holiday tree: Alfred Molina, Alfre Woodard,

By Vincent Volcano, Retired Hellwood Arsonist of Emotion, wearer of a scarf that smolders on its own Flames Fade, but Classics Burn Forever! Tuner arrives like a midnight piano recital in a motel lobby: competent, faintly classy, and constantly interrupted by the ice machine. Director Daniel Roher graduates from documentaries to narrative with a caper

By Vincent Volcano, retired pyromaniac of pathos and cardiganed curmudgeon of Hellwood. Fiery red scarf on, bile warmed to a simmer. Let’s strike the match: Obsession is another entry in the ever-expanding subgenre I call Careful-What-You-Wish-For-But-Also-Please-Discuss-Your-Feelings. Writer-director Curry Barker takes a dollar-store hex stick—the “One Wish Willow”—and waves it over a shy boy named Bear

By Vincent Volcano, retired Hellwood firebrand in a scarf so hot it has its own SAG card. Initial Descent James Cameron has finally discovered the genre he always wanted to conquer: the $65 million close-up. Yes, for the cost of three mid-tier indies and one reasonable volcano eruption, we now have a 3D concert film

By Vincent Volcano, retired Hellwood fire-starter and scarf enthusiast Flames Fade, but Classics Burn Forever! Neon has uncorked a chilly little tincture called Hokum, and for once the label isn’t false advertising. Don’t clutch your rosary beads yet—this isn’t bad hokum. This is precision-brewed, mildew-scented, peat-smoked hokum, the sort that creeps under the fingernails and