V/H/S/94 (2021)

V/H/S/94 is what a horror anthology should be: a grimy, adrenaline-charged mixtape of nightmares that feels like you found it in a dusty box and maybe shouldn’t have pressed play. The wraparound raid gives the whole thing a propulsive, panic-sweat momentum, while each segment swings for a different flavor of dread—urban legend creepiness, funeral-home unease, full-tilt body horror, and ugly human extremism—without ever losing that crunchy, analog found-footage vibe. It’s gleefully inventive and often impressively tactile, leaning into practical effects and big, nasty imagery that horror fans will savor. If you’re squeamish or allergic to gore, it’s going to be a rough ride, but if you want a confident franchise revival that’s mean, weird, and wildly entertaining, this tape delivers.

V/H/S/94 is clearly trying to recapture that grubby, midnight-movie VHS energy with a punchy SWAT-raid frame and four very different horror shorts, ranging from sewer-creature lore to full-on body-horror mayhem. When it hits, it’s nasty in a committed way, with a couple of segments delivering memorable practical effects and the kind of deranged imagery anthology fans show their friends. The problem is the usual V/H/S tax: it’s uneven, some stories drag or feel too on-the-nose, and the wraparound plot is more noise than payoff, so you may find yourself waiting for the next tape rather than enjoying the one you’re on. If you need consistent tension, tight pacing, or a coherent overarching story, this will test your patience; if you’re happy sampling a mixed bag of gnarly ideas with intermittent brilliance, it’s a solid enough ride.