Not half as terrifying as Norwegian black metal, but still one of the better found footage-gimmicked sequels in recent memory.

There comes a point when you have to say no to these horror sequels. There's no skill or idea visible anywhere, just the sound of money being sucked from your pockets.

Ransone's tone-deaf performance helps validate this knuckleheaded story's portrait of cinema as a potential gateway to pain and suffering.

Superficially faithful to the original film's subtle horror, this sloppy sequel diffuses what one character calls "the aesthetic observance of violence" into the safely ludicrous and lifeless.