Sequels are supposed to either raise the stakes or lower the bar. Decoys 2: Alien Seduction manages to do both: it takes the limp premise of the first Decoys film (college dudes discovering hot girls are secretly tentacle aliens) and inflates it like a busted novelty condom, stretching what should have been a 10-minute Are You Afraid of the Dark? skit into a 90-minute ice-cold disaster.
This isn’t so much a movie as it is a hazing ritual: if you survive watching it, congratulations—you’ve proven your endurance. And if you actually liked it, you’re probably under government surveillance.
The Plot: Sex Bet, Tentacles, Repeat
The movie opens like every frat bro’s wet dream: a girl making out with a guy in a car. Within minutes, she sprouts chest tentacles and kills him. Subtle. Hitchcock would be proud.
We then get introduced to our “heroes,” a bunch of walking hair gel advertisements who invent a sex contest. Yes, a competition to see who can sleep with the most women. Imagine Animal House if all the humor had been surgically removed and replaced with badly rendered CGI appendages.
Meanwhile, the aliens—led by Constance, returning from the first film like a bad rash—have evolved. They’ve figured out that instead of instantly freezing their prey, they have to seduce them slowly. Which means the film becomes one long montage of “sexy” alien girls telepathically reading fetishes and dressing up in costumes from the world’s saddest Spirit Halloween outlet. Schoolgirl? Check. Dominatrix? Check. Leopard print? Check. It’s less sci-fi horror and more “Pinterest board for rejected fetishes.”
The Characters: Flimsy Meat Puppets
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Luke Callahan (Corey Sevier): Returning from the first film, now even more confused. He spends most of his time drawing sketches of the aliens and looking like a guy who accidentally walked into the wrong franchise.
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Sam Compton (Tyler Johnston): Our new lead, because apparently one himbo wasn’t enough. He’s dragged into the sex contest despite having the charisma of a damp sponge.
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Stephanie (Kailin See): The “love interest” who may or may not be an alien. Spoiler: she has a belly button. Yes, that’s the dramatic climax. A belly button. Citizen Kane, eat your heart out.
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The Aliens (Kim Poirier, Lindsay Maxwell, Michelle Molineux): Imagine if the Hooters calendar came with tentacles. That’s it.
And then there’s Tobin Bell, who somehow wandered in from Saw. He plays a professor whose greatest contribution is reminding you that he could be in literally any other movie and be happier.
The “Horror”: Cold Showers and CGI
This movie’s idea of horror is reminding you that Canada is cold. Every death involves snow, ice, or a character freezing mid-makeout session like a popsicle from hell. Instead of shrieking in terror, victims just look mildly inconvenienced, like someone cut in line at Tim Hortons.
The CGI tentacles are so bad they make Sharknado look like Avatar. They don’t so much writhe menacingly as they flop around like wet pool noodles. When the aliens transform into their “true forms,” you expect HR Giger. What you get looks like leftover concept art from a PlayStation 2 game.
The Sex Bet: Rock Bottom Storytelling
The entire plot hinges on the dumbest subplot imaginable: a contest to sleep with the most women. Not only is it sleazy, it’s boring. We already know half the “girls” are aliens, so watching these guys line up to get laid is like watching cows walk willingly into a slaughterhouse.
The kicker? One guy discovers his fetish is leopard print clothing. That’s the big character arc. In a better film, this would be a quirky laugh. Here, it’s just tragic. When he resists seduction because he’s a virgin, you realize the script has officially given up and is now just writing Mad Libs with kinks.
The Climax: Belly Buttons and Molotov Cocktails
The heroes eventually figure out the aliens don’t have belly buttons. Yes, that’s how they tell them apart. Forget DNA, forget X-rays, forget literally anything smarter—this is a movie that solves extraterrestrial seduction with shirt checks.
The final showdown happens in a hospital morgue, which the aliens are using as a nest because it’s cold. The humans grab flares, Molotov cocktails, and makeshift flamethrowers. The big battle looks like a high school drama club’s version of Aliens, with the added shame that you had to watch a love story between two characters who have less chemistry than a math textbook.
And then comes the “twist”: the missing victims are still alive, but alien babies burst out of their chests. Cue screaming, freeze frame, and a title card that reads, “The End… Maybe.” Translation: “God help us if anyone funds a Decoys 3.”
Performances: Hostages of the Script
Corey Sevier looks like he’s suffering PTSD from agreeing to appear in both Decoys films. Tyler Johnston phones in his performance so hard it probably came with roaming charges. Kim Poirier is back, trying desperately to give her alien queen some gravitas, but you can’t really be menacing when you’re wearing a schoolgirl skirt and sprouting tentacles.
And Tobin Bell—poor, sweet Tobin Bell. Watching him here is like watching Shakespeare in a Chuck E. Cheese uniform. You know he could be terrifying, but instead he’s stuck explaining alien biology to horny frat boys.
Why This Movie Exists
Straight-to-DVD horror in the mid-2000s was basically a Darwinian experiment: if you could put boobs, blood, and bad CGI into 90 minutes, you’d probably break even at Blockbuster. Decoys 2 is Exhibit A. The first film was bad, but at least it had novelty. The sequel is just reheated leftovers, served cold—literally, because everything happens in the snow.
Final Thoughts: Freeze It, Salt It, Burn It
Decoys 2: Alien Seduction is what happens when someone says, “What if Species was dumber, colder, and hornier?” It’s a film where the “aliens” are indistinguishable from Playboy models in cheap costumes, the men are indistinguishable from mannequins in an Abercrombie & Fitch window, and the horror is indistinguishable from boredom.
It’s sleazy without being fun, sci-fi without being smart, horror without being scary. It’s the cinematic equivalent of freezer burn: unpleasant, tasteless, and impossible to scrape off once you’ve seen it.
Final Score: 0.5 frozen frat boys out of 5.
Because sometimes, the scariest thing isn’t the alien—it’s realizing you just wasted 90 minutes of your life on this frostbitten dumpster fire.
