Sinister, But Only in Name
There are few things more tragic in horror cinema than a sequel that completely misunderstands what made its predecessor terrifying. Sinister (2012) was a genuinely creepy surprise—a moody, grainy descent into evil that stuck with you long after the lights came back on. Sinister 2 (2015), on the other hand, feels like that one friend who insists on telling a scary story but keeps pausing to check their phone.
Directed by Ciarán Foy and written by Scott Derrickson and C. Robert Cargill (both returning from the first film, apparently as part of a court-ordered community service program), this sequel trades atmosphere for cheap jumps, dread for melodrama, and intelligence for… well, whatever this is.
It’s not just a bad horror movie. It’s the cinematic equivalent of finding out your favorite haunted house attraction has been replaced by a Chuck E. Cheese with mood lighting.
The Plot: Bughuul 2: Electric Boogaloo
Remember Bughuul—the tall, mysterious pagan demon with a face like a Hot Topic mask and a fondness for home movies? He’s back! Only now, instead of lurking in the shadows and silently corrupting children, he’s apparently running a daycare for ghost kids who have unionized and taken over the storytelling duties.
The movie opens with a “home movie” of a family being burned alive like cornfield scarecrows—an image that’s equal parts horrifying and unintentionally hilarious because it looks like it was filmed by someone testing a barbecue grill. It turns out this is the nightmare of Dylan, one of two identical twins (because horror loves symbolism, or maybe just discounted casting). Dylan lives in a farmhouse with his mom Courtney (Shannyn Sossamon, visibly regretting her career choices) and twin brother Zach. They’re hiding from Courtney’s abusive husband, Clint, who alternates between being a cartoon villain and an unconvincing plot device.
Every night, Dylan is visited by ghost children who force him to watch their snuff films. Each one has a catchy title like Fishing Trip (alligators and decapitations), Kitchen Remodel (electrocution via bad wiring), and Christmas Morning(holiday cheer and suffocation). It’s like America’s Funniest Home Videos as curated by Satan.
Meanwhile, ex-Deputy So-and-So (yes, that’s still his name, and yes, he’s still the best part of this mess) is now a private investigator trying to end Bughuul’s curse by burning down all the houses connected to the murders. Because nothing says “crime prevention” like arson.
The Kids Are All Fright
The ghost kids in Sinister 2 are supposed to be the scariest part of the film. Instead, they’re just irritating. Imagine a gang of preteen YouTubers who’ve traded slime tutorials for grainy snuff films, and you’ve got the vibe. They pop up in every other scene to whisper cryptic nonsense and guilt-trip Dylan into watching more home videos.
They’re not frightening. They’re just annoying—like spectral MLM sales reps for Bughuul’s pyramid scheme. “Hey, Dylan, wanna see our latest murder montage?” they coo, as he clutches his blanket and wonders if ghost therapy is covered by insurance.
And when Dylan refuses to participate, the kids simply shrug and move on to his brother, Zach, whose jealousy makes him the perfect host for possession. Nothing says “evil corruption” like sibling rivalry, after all. It’s The Shining meets Full House, but without the charm, tension, or point.
Bughuul: The Demon Who Forgot to Be Scary
Bughuul himself barely shows up in this movie. When he does, he pops in like a disappointed parent checking whether his ghost kids have done their chores. In the first film, his brief appearances were terrifying—fleeting glimpses that hinted at something ancient and unstoppable. In Sinister 2, he’s basically a background extra with better eyeliner.
He doesn’t stalk, he doesn’t menace—he just kind of… stands there. You half expect him to pull out a clipboard and start taking attendance. He’s less a cosmic force of evil and more the manager of a poorly performing franchise. “Okay, kids, remember—creative kills, no witnesses, and keep it on 16mm this time.”
Even the iconic “Super 8” aesthetic that made the first film feel so disturbingly authentic has been replaced by overproduced, glossy 16mm footage. The result? The murders now look less like found footage and more like rejected art school projects titled Death and Symbolism.
The Adults Aren’t Alright
James Ransone, reprising his role as Deputy So-and-So, is the only person who seems to understand what movie he’s in. He plays the entire film like he’s just as tired of this demon nonsense as the audience is. His character, now a guilt-ridden drifter armed with gasoline and good intentions, manages to be both pathetic and likable—a rare bright spot in an otherwise dim bulb of a sequel.
Shannyn Sossamon’s Courtney spends most of her screen time crying, whispering, or flirting awkwardly with the Deputy. Their “romance” is about as believable as a Hallmark card covered in blood. Meanwhile, the abusive husband Clint is written with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball—he’s less a character and more an excuse for violence.
When he finally dies (in one of the film’s many “creative” kills), it should feel cathartic. Instead, it just feels like another checkbox ticked off by a director desperate to get to the end credits.
The Horror: Now With 90% More Jump Scares
Gone is the slow-burn tension of the original film. In its place, we get a carnival of cheap jump scares so predictable they could be used to train dogs. Every time someone turns around, looks in a mirror, or opens a door, you can practically hear the orchestra tuning up for the next “BWAH!” sound cue.
At one point, a ghost child lunges out of the shadows so abruptly that I spilled my popcorn—not out of fear, but because my hand slapped my face in frustration.
The problem isn’t just the overuse of jumps—it’s the complete lack of atmosphere. The first Sinister made you dread what might be in the next frame. Sinister 2 makes you dread how much longer it has left.
The Ending: Or, How to Kill a Franchise
By the time the film reaches its climax—complete with demonic possession, sibling murder attempts, and enough gasoline to start a NASCAR race—you’re beyond caring. The Deputy crashes a car, burns a house, and somehow breaks Bughuul’s curse by smashing a camera. Apparently, centuries of supernatural evil are no match for a sturdy tripod.
Bughuul punishes his latest failure, the possessed Zach, by rapidly decomposing him in a visual effect that looks like it was animated in Microsoft Paint. Then, just when you think it’s over, the movie throws in one last “Gotcha!” moment with a haunted ham radio—because nothing says horror like AM frequency interference.
The Sinister Truth
Sinister 2 is the horror equivalent of reheated leftovers—it smells familiar but tastes terrible. It recycles everything that worked in the first film, only worse: more ghost kids, more family drama, and far less patience.
The scariest thing about it isn’t Bughuul—it’s the realization that you paid money (or time) to watch a movie that somehow made demonic possession boring.
It’s not sinister. It’s just sad.
Verdict: 1.5 out of 5 stars.
Half a star for Ransone’s commitment, half for Bughuul’s cheekbones, and half for the mercy of the credits finally rolling. The real horror? That they probably considered making Sinister 3.
