Leprechaun 4: In Space (1997)

Leprechaun 4: In Space is the kind of gloriously misguided sequel that becomes a party all by itself: it takes a pint-sized slasher gremlin, straps him to a spaceship, and commits fully to the punchline. Director Brian Trenchard-Smith leans into the B-movie lunacy with a wink, letting Warwick Davis weaponize one-liners and impish malice while the film splashes in gooey practical effects, creature mutations, and sci-fi riffs that feel like a cheap midnight double-feature beamed in from another era. The vibe is rowdy, neon-slimy, and proudly trashy—more “laugh with it” than “be scared by it”—and that’s exactly why it works when you’re in the mood for something unpretentious and exuberantly dumb. If you’re looking for prestige horror or subtle comedy, steer elsewhere; but if you want a self-aware, effects-forward romp that knows how ridiculous it is and loves you for coming along, this is an easy yes.

Leprechaun 4: In Space is clearly trying to mash up cheesy sci-fi action with the franchise’s goofy, rhyme-spouting slasher vibe, and on paper that’s a gloriously dumb idea. In practice, it looks and feels bargain-bin: the CGI is rough, the sets are plasticky, and the pacing lurches between noisy chaos and dead air, so the jokes and kills don’t always land. If you’re hoping for clever writing, genuine suspense, or even “so bad it’s brilliant” consistency, this one can be more grating than fun. Still, Warwick Davis commits hard and there’s a certain midnight-movie charm in how shamelessly it leans into its own nonsense—just don’t expect it to be anything other than cheap, loud, and very silly.