6) Voodoo Possession
I mean, what could go wrong here – Danny Trejo’s name is on the poster! Yes, you’re correct in assuming that’s sarcasm, because you’re currently reading about my least favorite horror films of the year. While I love Trejo and think he’s one of Hollywood’s greatest badasses, smaller-budget movies have been exploiting his ability to never turn down a gig as false advertising and nothing but cheap lies. Trejo’s inclusion in Voodoo Posession is nothing but cut-in clips of him reading about voodoo curses, while the rest of the film thinks there’s something terrifying about crayons.
The voodoo mentalities provide different realms for characters to explore (aka different sets of industrial basements), there’s a SyFy-quality creature, and stupid characters we can’t manage to care about – everything that makes a horror movie oh-so-interesting (pure snark, yes). The story is wafer-thin, and it crumbles as characters continue to pass dimensions with little to no explanations, but what’s worst of all is there isn’t a damn thing to fear. Nope, that’s not horror.
Here. Here are words I already formulated about The Possession Of Danny Trejo (SOMEONE MAKE THAT):
The only thing separating Boholst’s film from every other weakly constructed possession story is some chanting, a few funky markings, some face paint, and flashy cultist jewelry – none of which demand horror respect.