Reviews
[Review] “Deadwax” Has An Eerie Atmosphere And Killer Sound
On paper, Shudder’s new original series Deadwax (premiering Nov. 15) sounds like The Ring but just with a different object that kills its user. While that isn’t untrue, the series expands that initial premise with intriguing world-building and lore. And of course, the music is great, otherwise what is the point?
The opening scene shows a man meticulously taking out a plain red vinyl record, treating it like a mythical thing of sinister beauty, like the music version of the Lament Configuration. He places the record on a turntable, as the needle slowly goes down, looking more like a guillotine about to chop off a head. He sits down and smiles as the record begins to play, the camera closing in on his face. Then a quick and horrible sound interrupts the man as the screen goes black and then reveals the same man, dead, with his skin gray and mummified, his eye sockets empty and black as the void of space.
It’s an eye-opening start to what accounts for about two hours of TV. If you are the type to complain about shows and films being too long, then Deadwax’s 15-minute-long episodes should be right up your alley. Graham Reznick uses his extensive background as a sound designer, which includes The House of the Devil, and In a Valley of Violence, to craft a show where sound is essential. While good sound design is important in horror (look at this year’s A Quiet Place), there’s usually not a lot of experimenting with it. Reznic bases his entire premise on the idea of sound as a beautiful yet menacing thing, capable of horrible damage. The electric 70s giallo-inspired music, the eerie burst of static noise in the background and the audio cues before the jump scares elevate this beyond its comparisons to The Ring.
In the span of eight episodes, Deadwax follows Etta (Hannah Gross) a vinyl collector and hunter hired by rich people to track down rare records. She will do anything to get her hands on the rarest of the rare, even breaking into people’s houses at night. Her latest score includes a unique record from legendary sound engineer Lyle M. Lytton, part of a series and one of only three pressings in existence. This leads her to hearing about one of the other two records, one with weird markings on its deadwax (the space between the grooves and the label), said to be haunted. Meanwhile, a police officer while investigating the death of our mummy guy from the beginning will get more than he gambled for when he comes across the record.
Inspired by the concept of backmasking – hidden messages in vinyl records that can be discovered when playing backwards – and the Satanic Panic of the 70s, Deadwax treats its acetate subjects as mythical, almost magical objects. Reznick constantly uses close-ups and lingers on the turntable, the needle, and the turning of the vinyl as if it was otherworldly. Those who collect vinyl are portrayed not as hipsters or tinfoil-hat-wearing nutjobs, but as protectors of a sort of ancient art that the rest of the world doesn’t know about. Most of episode 4 is devoted to a college DJ alone in his booth talking about how special the format is. The show manages to also expand the lore of its universe without the need to show everything, as little pieces get added to the mystery and the mythology of Lytton’s killer record, specially around the idea of frequency resonance manipulation, and the notion that sound waves can make the human body react in invisible and sometimes deadly ways.
In the four episodes of Deadwax I saw, the series managed to create an eerie atmosphere that doesn’t shy away from gory and practical deaths like the mummified body or exploding heads. The mythology of the show is intriguing, and the characters have enough development to make you care, but the real winner is the short episode runtimes, which are laser-focused and will leave you wanting to binge the whole thing in one sitting.
Reviews
‘Hungry’ Review – Finally, a Film Brave Enough to Call Out Hippos for the Monsters They Truly Are
When it comes to the animal attack subgenre of horror, there’s a hierarchy of sorts with the wildlife in question. Killer shark movies are easily the most ubiquitous, while alligators/crocodiles, dogs, bears, and snakes probably lead the rest of the pack.
It’s often worth paying attention, though, when a filmmaker targets a more atypical animal threat, including the likes of Jonathan King’s Black Sheep or Juan Piquer Simón’s Slugs. A new contender rumbles its way onto the screen this month, and while we all grew up thinking hippos are rotund cuties, the truth is far more frightening – this hippo is Hungry.
Sistine (Madison Davenport) and her best friend, Hannah (Olivia Bernstone), are enjoying a vacation in New Orleans, hoping to drown out their troubles back home. They sign up for an early morning bayou tour known for its alligator sightings and are joined by four other tourists and the boat’s skipper, Rodrigo (Michel Curiel). An uneventful trip sees Rodrigo take the group off the beaten path, but when an animal in the water capsizes their boat, the group finds themselves trapped in the swamp by something unexpected and deadly.
It’s a hippo. There’s a hippo in the bayou, and it’s not happy about all these pesky people.

From Joy Houck’s Creature from Black Lake to Walter Hill’s Southern Comfort to Adam Green’s Hatchet, the movies have warned us time and again not to go into the swampy bayous of Louisiana. Those cautionary tales are appreciated, though, as bigfoot, inbred hicks, and undead serial killers are a very real threat. But hippos? In the bayou? Well, that just seems silly.
And yet, Hungry plays its blubbery, big-toothed threat with deadly seriousness, and it’s all the better for it. “But Rob,” I can already hear some of you saying, “just yesterday you reviewed the new shark attack film, Chum, and said it suffered from taking itself too seriously. What gives?” For one thing, you’re misquoting me, but more importantly, the reference there was more of an observation on the animal attack subgenre successes as a whole. The “fun” ones tend to succeed more often than their more serious counterparts, but a dramatic and thrilling time can still be found with filmmakers who know what they’re doing.
Chum may be serious, but it’s also poorly written/performed, lacking in any degree of tension, devoid of personality, and so on. By contrast, Hungry lets its suspense build on the backs of engaging characters, good performances, and believable writing. Only one of its ensemble is obnoxious – a major feat for this kind of film – but even then, their motivations are both well-written and understandable.
The rest of the characters are people you’d be happy to see survive the night, and rather than looking forward to the next kill, director James Nunn and his cast leave us uncertain and nervous about who’s going to go belly up. The nervous business traveler wanting to get back to her kids? The family of three celebrating lost loved ones while on their vacation? Joaquim de Almeida’s Walker, an old hunter, is introduced saying, “The only cute hippo is a dead hippo,” so you pretty much know where he’ll end up.

To that end, the film teases out its hippo’s first appearance until well into the ninety-minute running time. We get ripples and splashes, but it’s only around the midway point that we get our first real look at the beast, and it looks fantastic. Nunn goes on to show the hippo in all its glory, and it’s a convincing antagonist brought to life through practical prosthetic effects and digital work. From the ear twitches to the beast’s giant maw opening wide with awe and malice, the hippo’s presence feels part of the action. There’s a tangible nature to it, something practical effects excel at while digital effects sometimes fail to convince of, and both succeed here with quality work from all involved.
While we get brief exteriors early on and some visually appealing drone shots, the bulk of the film unfolds on what looks to be a highly believable, set-dressed water tank (but could very well be an actual location, in which case, kudos to the team). It’s wholly convincing as a section of the bayou, complete with shoulder-high water and arching, twisting trees emerging into the sky. The film was shot in Malta, which is, coincidentally, where Chum was filmed as well.
Nunn, who also wrote Hungry, is now ten films deep into a fairly interesting career as a genre filmmaker. He’s made four movies with Scott Adkins, three of which are certified action bangers (with 2016’s Eliminators in particular being an underrated gem). He dipped a toe into the animal attack subgenre back in 2022 with the aforementioned Shark Bait, and it’s clear he learned some lessons from that endeavor, as its first hour is an engaging, attractively shot feature that sinks fast as soon as its poorly rendered shark becomes a lead character. Hungry improves on every aspect of that film, with its biggest step up being in regard to the effects.

If there’s an area or two where Hungry lacks bite, it’s in both its gore and its ending. There are numerous kills here, but the nature of the attacks and the choices made by Nunn mean none of them result in gory assaults or outcomes. We’re shown the torn apart corpse of an alligator early on, but most of the human kills see them attacked and dragged underwater, leaving nothing but a blood spill behind. Similarly, while the ending encounter satisfies, it still feels like it should have been a bigger confrontation. Neither of these aspects really hurt the film, but a bolstering of the gore and ending antics would have definitely upped the film’s ultimate entertainment value and rewatchability.
When all is said and done, Hungry is a genuinely solid animal attack film that succeeds in making its creature threat thrilling, entertaining, and, dare I say, educational? Title notwithstanding, the film acknowledges that hippos are vegetarians, meaning the five hundred or so people they kill every year – a true fact! – are slaughtered not out of hunger, but out of spite, self-defense, or a desire to play “land orca” while tossing around us fragile humans like we’re little more than seals in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Characters are grounded and engaging, the film moves well between suspense, character beats, and action, and the effects used to bring the hippo to life are highly effective and never feel like distractions. Drop those expectations of a Hungry Hungry Hippo romp, and settle in for a terrific little survival thriller about an angry, angry hippo instead.
Chomp chomp.
Hungry releases in select theaters today, June 3, before arriving on VOD on June 23, 2026.



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