Obnoxious internet celebrities must fight for their lives while the entire world watches in Skillhouse, but the in-universe fanfare is incredible. Josh Stolberg writes and directs, but disappointingly, his script doesn't live up to career-making hits like Piranha 3D or Saw X. The haggard story, washed-out lighting, and lackluster performances are as off-putting as self-absorbed TikTok problem child star Bryce Hall, whose former content creator mansion, "The Sway House," also doubles as the titular Skill House. There are plenty of meta-parallels, given that Skillhouse inhabits a failing influencer haven, but it's a shallow, poorly told homicide fest that delivers nothing but cheap thrills without virality.
The film stars Hall—famous for endangering lives by hosting COVID-19 lockdown parties and real-life assault charges—as a "fictionalized" version of his unsavory online persona, Carter Swick. Poor Carter is grieving after the gruesome murder of his bland sister Lauren (Hannah Stocking), an Instagram celebrity, but life is about to get worse. Carter, along with nine other prominent social media influencers, is kidnapped by a sick maniac's Saw knockoff called "The Skill House." The vloggers, seeking fame, must compete for views in each round, and the one with the fewest views is brutally eliminated. As Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson (playing himself as the game's host) says, influence isn't just currency; it's survival.
Director: Josh Stolberg
Writer: Josh Stolberg
Stars: Bryce Hall, Hannah Stocking, 50 Cent
That's a shame, because Stolberg has proven himself a skilled screenwriter in the past. There's also plenty of drama to be mined as influencers continue to invade the horror sphere. Skillhouse acknowledges neither truth, repeating the steps of a massacre broadcast to the masses. Carter is pegged as a red herring after his sister's death, as the Grim Reaper seems to follow his digital stench, but Skill House's competition is barely grounded. Stolberg attempts to introduce his cast of niche, sponsorship-hungry social media celebrities after a bloodbath, which falls flat. All we learn is that Carter's brother dies horribly, eats pizza, grows a beard, wants his fame back, and suddenly, whoosh!, a masked villain takes control.
Skillhouse commits the cardinal sin of giving us no reason to care about any of the contestants eliminated by the "Triller Killer"'s sick challenges. It feeds the misconception that horror cinema is all mindless blood and guts. A cast that includes MMA fighter-turned-OnlyFans model Paige VanZant, Sorority Row's Leah Pipes, and some young up-and-coming talent fulfills every YouTube stereotype and nothing more. The camera-ready fakery, the sexploitation, the vapid depths that seek another like, but never add anything beyond what similar films like Funhouse or Stream have dealt with. Kudos to Stolberg for trying to give Skillhouse a touch of evil, but in doing so, there's never any substance, catharsis, or real enjoyment behind the extreme violence on display.
What I will say is that Skillhouse doesn't skimp on the gore. The hooded villain, the Triller Killer, wears a mask reminiscent of Scream: The TV Series, but what stands out are some character deaths, which are coated with a particularly heavy layer of practical disgust. Jigsaw's influence offers victims a chance to survive, as when Amanda (Emily Mei) uses acid to attempt to amputate a hand and foot, and it's GREAT. There are also two peculiar head explosions thanks to ingenious wire collars that wreak no end of havoc if the Triller Killer presses the proverbial red button. Skillhouse seems to be turning a corner right now. I wish we could put aside the easy stories and focus on the substance, the tips, and the glorious bloodshed.
Sadly, we can't. Most of the performances are lifted from Temu's TikTok shelf, except for Neal McDonough, whose important role as a law enforcement officer can't save the film from itself. 50 Cent's whole approach is a harebrained mess, to the point where you'll wonder why he's involved, much like 50 himself, who failed to prevent Skillhouse from being released due to a lawsuit. There are parts of this film so stiff and mechanical that the scenes look (and sometimes do) like AI, especially the shots of random "reactors" watching the Skill House massacre on their phones. It's the MadTV of Deadstream's Saturday Night Live in terms of quality, but even that's giving it too much credit.
In a subgenre of horror films where brainless, backstabbing creators reveal the toxic relationship we've established with social media—and the soulless celebrities we've created—Skillhouse is at the bottom of the social ladder. There's nothing to grasp beyond the blind rage, even when it's deserved. The chaos and bloodlust try to present themselves as eccentric fun, but they lack the power to strengthen any structure. Yes, there is a reason; yes, there is a motive... eventually. The worst part is how predictable those reasons and motives become once revealed. Kudos to the chefs who created carnage in truly vicious tones (if not with terrible special effects), but beyond the visual malice, Skillhouse is just another forgettable contender desperate for likes and attention.
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