There are certainly bad horror movies, but Ghost Game reaches another level—it's so poorly conceived that it feels like the product of someone who glanced at a basic list of spooky elements and thought that was enough. Released in 2024, this film is destined to become a sleep aid for horror enthusiasts for years to come, squandering a potentially decent idea with all the finesse of a runaway vegetable. The story involves influencers participating in an incredibly foolish online challenge: sneaking into people’s homes and attempting to convince them their houses are haunted, all while recording it for views. Their next target? A mansion with a tragic history. Originality is absent, but okay, horror often utilizes the haunted house trope. The real problem lies in what follows: a confusing collection of underdeveloped storylines involving a shadowy figure running the "Ghost Game" network, a troubled family, and an ancient curse (or perhaps not?). These elements don’t lead anywhere compelling; they simply linger like neglected cobwebs. The cast largely seems disengaged from the material, as if unsure whether this is a horror film or a high school drama club project. Zaen Haidar, playing the boyfriend, delivers his lines with the air of someone trying to recall if they left the oven on. The supporting actors range from unremarkable to visibly perplexed. However, Kia Dorsey manages to bring her A-game. She portrays Laura as though she’s in a far superior film—one with genuine stakes and character development. Dorsey provides tension, conflict, and actual facial expressions, which is more than can be said for the rest of the performers, who wander around like video game characters awaiting instructions. The script shouldn't escape criticism either. The dialogue consists of an endless supply of meaningless phrases. Lines such as “The darkness feeds the fame and the fame feeds the fear” prompt questions about whether the writer was just randomly typing emo lyrics into screenwriting software while listening to music from Brave Little Abacus. None of the concepts—the game, the ghosts, the unseen orchestrator—are ever properly explored. It’s like the film introduces plot points and then immediately forgets about them, similar to a relative who repeatedly calls you by your cousin's name (something that happens to everyone). Visually, Ghost Game attempts to appear spooky with dim lighting and a color scheme reminiscent of “nicotine-stained wallpaper.” Instead of creating atmosphere, it simply feels as though someone smeared used motor oil on the camera lens and declared it art. Every attempt at a jump scare is foreseeable, every twist is hinted at well in advance, and the conclusion strains so hard to be profound that it becomes unintentionally funny—like witnessing a friend’s embarrassed dash to the bathroom after an unfortunate accident. Ultimately, Ghost Game demonstrates how to waste resources effectively. It had the potential for commentary on internet fame and horror culture, but instead delivered a collection of clichés held together with tape and ghost emojis. With the exception of Kia Dorsey, who deserves a better film (and perhaps even recognition for enduring this one), there’s nothing here worth your time. The true haunting? The ninety minutes you won't be able to reclaim.

Source on TMDB