Club Dread (2004)

Club Dread is a sunburnt slasher comedy that somehow manages to tease the genre and indulge it at the same time, like a beach party that keeps getting interrupted by a very committed killer. Broken Lizard brings their deadpan charm and irreverent, goofy energy to a tropical resort setting where the jokes land even as the body count rises, and the movie’s bright, sweaty vibe makes the mayhem feel playfully outrageous rather than grim. It’s the kind of film that rewards anyone who likes their horror with a wink, a dirty laugh, and a knowing affection for whodunit nonsense. Fair warning: it’s proudly R-rated and not subtle about sex, substances, or gore, but if that’s your wavelength, it’s a surprisingly fun vacation.

Club Dread is trying to mash up a sunny, sexed-up resort comedy with a slasher mystery, basically asking you to laugh while people get picked off. The problem is the jokes are wildly uneven and the whodunit beats feel pretty routine, so if you’re coming for clever satire or a genuinely tense thriller, you’ll likely be checking your watch. It’s also aggressively R-rated with heavy nudity, drug use, and nasty gore, which isn’t “edgy” so much as constant—fun for some, exhausting for others. If you already like Broken Lizard’s goofy vibe and can tolerate a thin plot as a delivery system for hit-or-miss gags, there’s a breezy, dumb-good time to be had; if not, this one will feel like a long vacation you regret booking.