Z

A Shudder original, so I wasn't expecting much. In all honesty I thought it was better than some horror stuff that was released this year but there's nothing worth mentioning and I say this because even though there's some interesting elements, the way it's driven makes the jump scares an abusive resource for the narrative and I hate when that happens.

After dabbling with short films and a polarizing feature-length project called Still/Born, Brandon Christensen takes another swing at supernatural horror with Z—which might just win the award for most random title of the year. While its premise is always intriguing (let’s be honest, creepy entities that start with kids never get old), Z stumbles with a messy plot and thin characters. The story follows Beth, Kevin, and their son Josh, the picture of an all-American family living a quiet suburban life: Josh is the golden boy, Kevin’s the hard-working dad, Beth the stay-at-home mom. Everything seems postcard-perfect—until Josh introduces his new imaginary friend... Z. Honestly, I’ve always wondered just how common the whole “imaginary friend” thing really is. If I saw my kid talking to herself, sure, I’d brush it off. But talking to someone invisible? That’d send up all kinds of red flags. Like most horror flicks, it takes the parents way too long to realize they need to step in. And that’s just where the problems start. For us. To begin with, Josh is basically every parent’s nightmare. I don’t know—by the time the plot really picks up, I couldn’t help but wonder if this kid was even worth saving or just begging for some good old-fashioned exorcism. Add to the mix a passive-aggressive, subtly sexist dad. Kevin’s just... useless. All he does is make Beth’s life harder with his passivity and arrogance—he’s a walking liability wrapped in a dad disguise. If Beth were a single mom, it wouldn’t change a thing. Kevin’s just there to take up screen time. Beth herself is your textbook movie mom. Sweet. Vulnerable. Strong when she needs to be. She’ll move mountains to save her child. You’ve seen it before. As the story unfolds, it hits all the familiar beats. Beth’s got a dark past, and Z’s origin is way more personal than it first appears. So yeah, nothing groundbreaking in that department. One thing I can’t ignore—the alphabet toy that clicks loudly with every key press. If I were alone in a room and that thing started clacking without a soul in sight, I’d lose it. In the film? Characters treat it like it’s just another day at Chuck E. Cheese. Come on. Z's design is cool, though. From Josh’s sinister little drawings to Z’s full reveal, the visual concept actually lands. Props to the production team for that one. It’s just a shame the story doesn’t hold up. The ending is flat, uninspired, and—honestly—makes zero sense. A mess of last-minute twists that feel clunky and half-baked. Disappointing, especially for a movie that showed real promise. Z is kind of like the letter itself: the last one you think about, barely used, and oddly hard to fit into anything. Almost forgettable.