By the time you hit the sixth entry in a found-footage horror franchise, you expect certain things: glitchy cameras, screaming, gruesome deaths, questionable acting, and an overall vibe of “We made this in a weekend, please clap.” V/H/S/85 delivers all of that in spades, along with a sense of creative exhaustion so powerful it should’ve been listed in the end credits as an additional cast member.
This movie wants to transport you back to 1985 — an era of VHS tapes, static, camcorder noise, and fashion crimes. Instead, it mostly transports you to the realization that nostalgia has become a hostage situation.
Yes, the anthology has moments of creativity. Yes, some directors bring real vision. But as a whole? V/H/S/85 is a chaotic mixtape someone recorded over with half an aerobics special and a cursed infomercial.
Let’s take a painful journey through each segment, shall we?
“Total Copy”: The Frame Narrative That Should’ve Stayed in Draft Mode
Every V/H/S film has a wraparound segment meant to give structure. Total Copy functions less as a structure and more as a warning: “If you continue watching, this is on you.”
We meet a group of scientists studying a goo-creature named Rory — a shapeshifting lump that looks like the world’s saddest Muppet rejected from Labyrinth for “being too moist.”
The scientists poke Rory. Rory grows limbs. The scientists continue poking Rory, violating every lab safety regulation ever written. Eventually Rory goes full hentai monster and murders everyone.
It’s meant to be terrifying. Instead, it feels like watching an improv troupe reenact The Thing after a few beers.
This segment returns between every story, reminding you repeatedly that Rory is the film’s attempt at “deep lore.” It’s cute they tried. Truly. Adorable.
“No Wake”: Don’t Swim, Don’t Camp, Don’t Watch This Segment
A group of seven friends ignores WARNING SIGNS and goes swimming in a lake. A sniper shoots them. They die. Then they un-die. Then they decide to get revenge.
This is the entire plot.
It could’ve been a tight, clever short. Instead, it feels like the prologue to a better movie that didn’t get funded. The characters have the combined depth of wet paper towels, and the found-footage camera shakes like it was strapped to a caffeinated squirrel.
The twist — that the lake resurrects people — is cool. But the segment ends right when things get interesting, retreating back into the arms of Rory the Goo Blob, who by now has sprouted more limbs than the writers have ideas.
“God of Death”: Found Footage, Now With 500% More Screaming
This segment takes place during the 1985 Mexico City earthquake and begins with a news crew preparing for broadcast. Within minutes, the building collapses, the crew dies, and our cameraman hero Luis gets dragged into a supernatural shrine populated by skull walls and an angry Aztec death god.
It’s loud. It’s chaotic. It’s sweaty.
Like watching a telenovela filmed during an actual natural disaster.
The acting is fine. The gore is fine. The concept is fine. But nothing lands because the camera is swinging around like it’s competing in a rodeo. “Found footage” here means “everything is happening everywhere all at once but none of it is visually coherent.”
The final heart-ripping scene is cool, but coolness points expire quickly when you can’t tell who is dying or why their limbs are arranged like discount action figures.
“TKNOGD”: Technology Bad, Performance Art Worse
This segment asks:
What if performance art… but possessed?
We follow Ada Lovelace (not the real one, sadly), a pretentious performance artist who performs a monologue about “the God of Technology” being a threat. Then she puts on a VR suit and awakens a digital demon who proceeds to dismember her like he’s carving a cyberpunk Thanksgiving turkey.
In theory, this is a sharp satire. In practice, it’s like watching the world’s most unhinged TED Talk collapse into a Saw trap.
Ada gets yanked around the stage, tossed like a ragdoll, and dismembered one limb at a time — all while the audience applauds because performance art audiences will clap at anything if they think it’s subversive.
By the time Ada’s brain fuses with the VR headset, even the demon seems tired.
“Ambrosia”: Remember “No Wake”? Congratulations, Here’s the Family Who Produced That Segment
At this point in the movie, viewers are exhausted. Which makes it the perfect time to drop a story about a family celebrating their teenage daughter Ruth for completing a “rite of passage” that turns out to be a mass shooting.
Ah yes. Nothing says “fun horror anthology” like a surprise school-shooter cousin reveal.
To its credit, this segment is effective at being deeply unsettling. But the tonal whiplash is enough to injure your neck. One minute we’re baking pies and filming birthday speeches; the next we’re watching a resurrected mass shooter shriek in existential agony while trying to kill a coroner.
Mike P. Nelson was clearly trying to interconnect “No Wake” and “Ambrosia,” but instead of feeling clever, it feels like the anthology hit the “repeat” button on trauma.
“Dreamkill”: Scott Derrickson Brings Competence to a Party That Forgot What Competence Looks Like
Finally, a segment with real directing chops — which only emphasizes how uneven the rest of the film is.
“Dreamkill” is a psychic-murder mystery tied to Derrickson’s The Black Phone universe. Good acting. Solid kills. Actual tension. Freddy Rodríguez carries the plot like he’s on a mission from God.
Unfortunately, the story is so much better than everything before it that the anthology starts to feel like a rummage sale with one brand-new item amid piles of broken toys.
Also, found footage logic melts quicker than a cheap VHS tape left on a car dashboard. The dream tapes look clearer than 2023 iPhone footage. The murders are filmed from twenty impossible angles. Gunther’s psychic abilities fluctuate like spotty WiFi. It’s fun, but it’s also nonsense.
Final “Total Copy”: Rory Returns to Remind Us Nothing Matters
The final frame narrative ends with Rory killing everyone by whipping tentacles around like he’s trying to win a slap-contest championship.
The scientists die. The cameraman dies. Rory imitates aerobics videos. It’s meant to be disturbing, but it plays like an overlong deleted scene from Men in Black II.
Final Verdict: V/H/S/85 Is a Grab Bag of Gore, Ideas, and Missed Opportunities
Anthologies are always hit-or-miss. This one is miss-heavy with occasional bright spots.
Pros:
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A couple of strong moments
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Derrickson’s segment
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Creative concepts
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Good gore
Cons:
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Ugly visuals
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Inconsistent quality
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Baffling editing
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Rory the sentient pudding monster
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Segments that end right when they get interesting
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The growing urge to throw your TV into a well
At its best, V/H/S/85 is messy fun.
At its worst, it’s like watching a cursed mixtape assembled by five directors who never met and possibly didn’t like each other.
If nostalgia horror and chaotic gore are your thing, you’ll find something to enjoy.
If not?
Well… there’s something wrong with V/H/S/85, and unlike the children, it’s not getting better.
