There are bad horror movies, and then there are movies so profoundly dull that you start rooting for Hell itself to open up just to end things early. Nothing Left to Fear—directed by Anthony Leonardi III and produced by Guns N’ Roses guitarist Slash (yes, that Slash)—belongs proudly in the second category. It’s a film that promises fire, brimstone, and demonic chaos, and instead delivers the cinematic equivalent of elevator music in a haunted church.
Let’s get one thing straight: if you’re making a movie about one of the Seven Gateways to Hell, you’re setting expectations pretty high. The least you can do is make Hell interesting. But Nothing Left to Fear manages to make eternal damnation feel like waiting in line at the DMV—if the DMV had fewer screams and better lighting.
Welcome to Stull, Kansas—Population: Yawns
Our story begins with Pastor Dan (James Tupper), his wife Wendy (Anne Heche, clearly wondering what went wrong after Six Days, Seven Nights), and their three children—Rebecca, Mary, and Christopher—moving to the sleepy little town of Stull, Kansas. Dan’s here to take over as the new pastor, which sounds noble until you realize this town’s main industries are baking cursed cakes and sacrificing teenage girls to the Devil.
Rebecca, the film’s designated “Final Girl” (Rebekah Brandes), spots a local boy, Noah (Ethan Peck, whose performance is so wooden you could carve a pulpit from it), slaughtering a sheep in a field. This is never a good sign in horror or dating. She shrugs it off because, apparently, the sight of teenage livestock murder isn’t enough to dampen Midwestern hospitality.
Pastor Kingsman (Clancy Brown, chewing scenery like it’s communion bread) welcomes the family with suspicious enthusiasm. He even brings them a homemade cake. Unfortunately, the cake comes with a surprise filling—a human tooth—because in Stull, Kansas, dessert doubles as your ticket to Hell.
The Devil’s Bake Sale
Let’s talk about this cake, because it’s the most original idea in the movie. The premise is that whoever bites into the tooth-laced pastry becomes “the chosen one” for demonic possession. It’s like the world’s worst version of getting the baby in a King Cake—except instead of good luck, you get a one-way trip to Satan’s Airbnb.
When young Mary chokes on the tooth, she’s officially marked for damnation. This, naturally, does not stop her mother from planning the town’s Summer Festival, because nothing says “family bonding” like ignoring a cursed pastry while making potato salad.
Meanwhile, Noah continues to flirt awkwardly with Rebecca, who finds his mysterious scars attractive in a “my therapist warned me about this” kind of way. He’s clearly torn between his crush and his role as the Devil’s errand boy, and the result is a love story so bland it could have been written by a possessed Hallmark intern.
Possession, But Make It Boring
Eventually, the inevitable happens: the Gateway to Hell opens, Mary gets possessed, and the small town’s religious fervor turns out to be less “praise Jesus” and more “offer up your children to Beelzebub.”
And yet… nothing about this possession feels remotely hellish. Mary’s transformation involves vomiting black goo, which should be disgusting, but instead looks like she swallowed a bottle of printer ink. She also starts crawling around the house like a discount Regan MacNeil, but without the charm.
Pastor Kingsman’s big ritual—opening the portal to Hell itself—looks like a community theater production of The Exorcist performed in a Walmart parking lot. The lighting is flat, the effects are lifeless, and the music is trying its best to convince us something scary is happening, but honestly, the scariest part is how long it takes.
Even the Gateway to Hell is underwhelming. You expect flames, tortured souls, maybe a demon or two. Instead, we get… fog. Just fog. Apparently, Hell outsourced its effects budget to Goosebumps.
“Directed by Satan’s Intern”
There’s an art to making low-budget horror work—you lean on atmosphere, character, and suggestion. Nothing Left to Fear does none of these things. The direction feels like it’s afraid of its own material, the editing is flatter than a communion wafer, and the pacing is so slow it could double as a sleep aid.
Slash, bless his leather-clad heart, provides the score, which alternates between “spooky church organ” and “guitar riffs from a guy who thought he was scoring The Crow.” The music is fine—it’s everything else that fails him. You can’t shred your way out of a bad script, no matter how hard you wail.
The Characters: A Family That Inspires Sympathy… for the Devil
It’s hard to care about anyone here, mostly because they all behave like they’ve been hit in the head with a Bible. Pastor Dan, our supposed man of faith, reacts to every unholy event like he’s mildly inconvenienced. His wife Wendy has the energy of someone who’d rather be filming a yogurt commercial. And the kids alternate between “sullen” and “screaming,” which I guess is accurate, but not engaging.
Even Clancy Brown can’t save this. His performance as Pastor Kingsman should be terrifying—this is the man who made the Kurgan in Highlander iconic. Instead, he spends most of the movie looking like he’s fighting indigestion while quoting scripture.
And poor Noah—our doomed love interest—has the personality of a tax form. When he confesses to Rebecca that he’s been helping sacrifice people to Hell because “it’s God’s will,” she doesn’t even seem that upset. Maybe she’s just tired. Maybe we all are.
Hell Is Other People (and This Script)
By the third act, the movie goes full supernatural, which should be exciting—but instead it’s like watching someone slowly assemble an IKEA altar. Characters wander around in circles, yelling each other’s names, while possessed Mary alternates between weeping and growling like a goth on NyQuil.
People die, houses crumble, the town marks doors with bloody X’s, and yet somehow, none of it feels urgent. You could pause the film halfway through to make dinner and come back without missing a beat.
The climactic showdown at the abandoned church—a setting that should drip with dread—feels more like a PTA meeting gone wrong. There’s some wrist-slitting, a vague light show, and a lot of heavy breathing. And then, just like that, the portal closes.
The ending tries to go for “cyclical evil” as a new family moves to town, but it lands closer to “Netflix auto-play.” The cycle of suffering continues, and so does the viewer’s confusion about why they watched this in the first place.
The Devil’s In the Details—But Apparently, He Called In Sick
For a movie about Hell, Nothing Left to Fear feels remarkably sanitized. There’s no real menace, no tension, and certainly no sense of the supernatural beyond “some people vomit black stuff.” The film takes the satanic rural horror setup—something that worked brilliantly in Children of the Corn or The Wicker Man—and drains it of all personality.
It’s as if the filmmakers were terrified of offending anyone, including Satan himself. Even the devil seems bored here. I imagine him watching from below, sighing, “Really? That’s the best you could do? Even Hellraiser: Revelations had more soul.”
Final Judgment
Nothing Left to Fear is a horror movie that desperately needs an exorcism—for its pacing, its script, and its courage. It takes an awesome premise and drowns it in clichés, lethargic performances, and endless small-town awkwardness. It’s not scary, it’s not campy, and it’s not even bad enough to be fun—it’s just… beige.
Final Rating: 1 out of 5 Cursed Teeth.
If you ever find yourself in Stull, Kansas, and someone offers you cake, take my advice: just say no. Because after watching this movie, I can confirm—Hell is real, and it’s two hours long.
