The most disheartening thing about this purported horror flick is the participation, if only as co-writer and producer, of creature-feature maestro Guillermo Del Toro (The Shape of Water).
The plot strives in vain to elicit our concern for the plight of a group of teens who land up in an old dark house looming in the middle of nowhere. The schoolmates stumble upon a dog-eared volume of tales based on urban legends. Soon enough, monsters lurking within the pages spring to life and hunt down the youngsters.
Set in the suburbs of Pennsylvania circa 1968, the portentous goings-on provide a goosebump or two but it’s really nothing we haven’t experienced countless boring times before. Even the rogue scarecrow and the grotesque creature made up of dismembered body parts are more guffaw-inducing than scary.
This mess barely merits a glance.