Ghost Game

There are bad horror movies, and then there’s Ghost Game — a film so bafflingly misguided, it feels like it was written by someone who skimmed a BuzzFeed list called “Spooky Stuff 101” and then said, ... There are bad horror movies, and then there’s Ghost Game — a film so bafflingly misguided, it feels like it was written by someone who skimmed a BuzzFeed list called “Spooky Stuff 101” and then said, “Yeah, that'll do.” Released in 2024 and on track to become a sleep aid for horror fans everywhere for years to come, this film squanders a halfway-decent premise with the grace of a haunted turnip rolling downhill. The setup? A couple of influencers take part in the world’s dumbest internet challenge, sneaking into strangers’ homes and trying to convince them their houses are haunted — all while recording it for views. And their next stop? A mansion with a tragic, spooky past. Original? Not even a little. But fine, horror loves a haunted house. The real crime here is what follows: a tangled mess of half-baked subplots, including a shadowy figure running the "Ghost Game" network, a traumatized family, and an ancient curse (maybe?). None of these threads go anywhere interesting — they just sort of hang there like cobwebs nobody bothered to clean up. The cast mostly sleepwalks through the script like they’re unsure if this is a horror movie or a high school drama club experiment. Zaen Haidar, as the boyfriend, delivers lines like he's trying to remember if he left the oven on. The supporting cast ranges from forgettable to straight-up confused. But amid the chaos, Kia Dorsey actually shows up to work. She plays Laura like she’s in a completely different, much better movie — one with actual stakes and character development. Dorsey gives us tension, conflict, and actual expressions with her face, which is more than can be said for everyone else wandering around like Sims waiting for their next command. But let’s not let the script off the hook. Oh no. The dialogue is an all-you-can-eat buffet of nonsense. Lines like “The darkness feeds the fame and the fame feeds the fear” make you wonder if the screenwriter was just typing random emo lyrics into Final Draft while listening "bangers" from Brave Little Abacus. None of the ideas — the game, the ghosts, the evil puppet master — are ever fleshed out. It’s as if the film kept introducing plot points and then immediately forgot about them, like a grandparent who keeps calling you by your cousins name (it happens to the best of us). Visually, Ghost Game tries really hard to look spooky, with dim lighting and a color palette best described as “nicotine-stained wallpaper.” Instead of crafting atmosphere, it just feels like someone smeared used motor oil on the lens and said, “That’s art.” Every jump scare is predictable, every twist is telegraphed five scenes too early, and the ending tries so hard to be deep, it loops back around to being unintentionally hilarious -- like watching a friend, cheeks gripped run to the restroom after sharting. In short, Ghost Game is a masterclass in how to waste money. It had a premise ripe for commentary on internet fame and horror culture, but instead it gave us a jumble of clichés held together with duck tape and ghost emojis. Save for Kia Dorsey, who deserves a better movie (and maybe a medal for surviving this one), there’s nothing here worth watching. The real ghost? The hour and a half you’ll never get back.