Horror sequels are rotten. They’ve zoomed way past horror remakes on my scary movie hate-list.
In fact, thanks to stuff like the shocking and surprisingly awesome “Dawn of the Dead” remake and the new 3D version of “My Bloody Valentine” (a film with no agenda except to throw lots of blood and guts at your face, provided your glasses are on), I can’t even say I hate the concept of the remake on principle anymore. Those two, all by themselves, can help me forget that I paid money to see the reboots of “When a Stranger Calls,” “Black Christmas” and “Prom Night.”
But popular franchises that don’t know when to lay down the chainsaw — sequels that are energetic as strippers on the breakfast shift — are bilking horror fans of money that could be spent buying vintage “Mark of the Devil” barf bags on eBay. Here’s where they go wrong: