Some horror flicks are scary, some are stupid, and then there’s Decoys—a Canadian straight-to-Sci-Fi Channel fever dream about horny college kids, alien ice queens, and the kind of tentacle action usually reserved for late-night anime imports. This is the movie you get when a producer walks into a pitch meeting and says, “What if American Pie had sex with Species in an igloo?” and everyone just nods because the coffee hasn’t kicked in yet.
The Plot That Should’ve Stayed Frozen
Our hero (and I use that term loosely) is Luke, a perpetually horny freshman who, with his buddy Roger, spends most of his time failing to get laid. Enter Lily and Constance, two mysteriously icy girls who look like they belong on a Maxim cover shoot circa 2004. Luke first spies them getting naked and fondling themselves with tentacles while spraying each other down with liquid nitrogen. That’s your red flag, pal, not your invitation.
Instead of running for the hills, Luke does what every horror protagonist does: he decides he needs to “get to the bottom of the mystery.” Translation: he wants to get laid so badly he’s willing to risk throat-rape by alien spaghetti monsters. The police, meanwhile, find a corpse frozen from the inside out, complete with a death boner. Their working theory? Someone shoved a beer bong down his throat. Canadian law enforcement, ladies and gentlemen.
From there, the plot is just a carousel of horny boys getting lured by hot aliens, tentacles shooting out like malfunctioning party favors, and dudes freezing to death mid-coitus. Imagine a frat party sponsored by Liquid Nitrogen and you’re halfway there.
The Cast: Victims of the Script
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Corey Sevier as Luke: A hero so bland he makes vanilla pudding seem spicy. His defining trait is “he’s there.”
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Kim Poirier as Constance: She tries to inject actual emotion into the role, but there’s only so much you can do when your character’s arc is “alien seductress who accidentally kills her boyfriend with tentacle sex.”
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Meghan Ory as Alex: Luke’s human girlfriend who turns out to be—you guessed it—an alien. Because apparently every woman in this movie is one bad date away from sprouting squid limbs.
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Nicole Eggert as Detective Amanda Watts: Former Baywatch star downgraded to “lady cop who believes the horny boy.” She looks like she’s waiting for a paycheck that never arrives.
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Ennis Esmer as Gibby: The comic relief who winds up frozen stiff (literally). RIP, buddy, you deserved better.
Everyone else is just alien chow, fodder for frozen corpses with terrified O-faces.
Why It Fails (and Oh, Does It Fail)
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The Concept: Sexy snow aliens who kill men during sex. That’s it. That’s the whole pitch. It sounds like a parody skit, but nope—they made a full-length movie out of it.
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The Tone: The movie can’t decide if it wants to be a comedy, a horror flick, or softcore porn shot in a meat locker. Instead, it lurches back and forth like a drunk moose on ice skates.
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The Effects: The tentacles look like rejected props from a Goosebumps episode, and the frozen corpses resemble mannequins someone left in a walk-in freezer. The aliens’ “true forms” are revealed with the kind of CGI that makes early PlayStation cutscenes look photorealistic.
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The Sex: This movie is obsessed with sex. Every scene has someone trying to get laid, and every payoff is “surprise! Tentacles!” It’s like the director had unresolved issues with his ex and a subscription to Fangoria.
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The Ending: Luke finally gets with his girlfriend Alex, only to find out—shock of shocks—she’s an alien too. Tentacles sprout, Luke screams, and the credits roll. That’s not a twist; that’s narrative laziness wearing a trench coat.
The Unintentional Comedy
Decoys is funniest when it’s trying to be serious. A cop says with a straight face that a kid died from a keg hose down the throat. An alien explains her people are “just trying to survive” while mid-throat-tentacle, as if murder-sex is the same as recycling. The pièce de résistance is the frozen corpses, all locked in wide-eyed O-faces that look less like terror and more like someone walked in on them watching bad reality TV.
And then there’s the fact that the aliens hate heat. Not guns, not bombs—just warmth. A hair dryer could end this invasion. Forget flamethrowers; a space heater would wipe out their species. The only reason humanity’s doomed is because college kids are too horny to notice the obvious.
The Dark Humor of Watching This Mess
There’s something bleakly hilarious about a movie where every man’s greatest fear isn’t death, but death by sex. Imagine having to explain that obituary: “Chad died doing what he loved—except it killed him, froze him solid, and left his corpse with an erection like a traffic cone.”
And then there’s poor Roger, who actually believes one of the aliens loves him. She says, “We don’t mean to hurt anyone,” right before accidentally killing him with her reproductive plumbing. It’s like Romeo and Juliet if Juliet was a reptilian squid monster and Romeo died mid-makeout.
Final Thoughts
Decoys is a movie that doesn’t just fail—it faceplants, slides across the ice, and gets eaten by its own tentacles. It wants to be sexy, but it’s about as erotic as watching someone stick their tongue on a frozen flagpole. It wants to be scary, but the only horror here is the acting. It wants to be funny, but the jokes land with the grace of a moose falling through a Tim Hortons roof.
If you’re looking for genuine thrills, skip this one. But if you want to watch a movie so absurd it feels like a dare, pour yourself some whiskey, crank the thermostat to 90, and let Decoys remind you that sometimes, the scariest thing isn’t the monster—it’s the fact that someone thought this deserved a sequel.
