PopHorror Let's Get Scared
MEATHOOK (2024) sets out with an intriguing premise: instead of ending when the final girl survives, it asks what happens after the movie is over. Trauma doesn’t disappear when the killer is defeated, and survival isn’t the same thing as resolution. It’s a smart idea and one that feels ripe for exploration within the slasher genre.
Written and directed by Jermey Ashley, the film follows Jordyn (Rene Leech), as she grapples with the psychological fallout of a past massacre. Leech is easily the movie’s strongest asset. She delivers a grounded, emotionally sincere performance that sells Jordyn’s exhaustion, fear, and quiet determination. Leech remains compelling, anchoring the film with a sense of authenticity that suggests a deeper, more impactful story just beneath the surface.
Unfortunately, the supporting cast largely sticks to familiar slasher archetypes. While serviceable, most performances outside of Leech feel formulaic, doing little to elevate characters beyond their expected functions in the body-count equation. They’re not bad—just interchangeable, which weakens the emotional stakes as the film progresses.
Structurally, Meathook struggles with pacing, particularly in its use of flashbacks. These scenes provide important context for Jordyn’s past, but they repeatedly interrupt the momentum of the present-day story. Just as tension begins to build, the film detours into backstory, breaking the forward drive that slashers depend on. Rather than deepening the horror, these pauses often deflate it, making the film feel like it’s constantly stopping to explain itself instead of letting the dread accumulate naturally.
Tonally, the movie also seems unsure whether it wants to be a serious exploration of trauma or a more self-aware, slightly meta comedy/slasher. It gestures toward both but never fully commits to either, leaving the film stuck in an uneasy middle ground. The result is a movie that’s watchable and occasionally effective, but rarely gripping.
In the end, Meathook isn’t a failure—it’s a near miss. The core concept is strong, the lead performance is solid, and there are flashes of a more confident, sharper film throughout. But between the uneven pacing, momentum-breaking flashbacks, and familiar supporting characters, it never quite becomes the bold reinvention it seems to be reaching for. It’s a decent slasher with an interesting idea—one that ultimately leaves you thinking less about what it is, and more about what it could have been.
