The Babysitter: Killer Queen
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The Globe and Mail (Toronto)
In this new era of McG movies, you can simply turn his film off, walk a few steps to your bedroom and go to sleep.
The Babysitter: Killer Queen is junk food entertainment at its most mediocre, delivering barely enough blood and fun without anything truly memorable.
Fans of the original will no doubt tune expecting more high-grade guilty-pleasure fun, only to get way too much of a no-longer-very-good thing instead.
No one expects The Babysitter: Killer Queen to be anything other than your basic escapist entertainment, but it fails even at this modest goal. It's a defiantly stupid movie, with references so bizarrely dated that it verges on fascinating.
Some of the effects are OK, and the night shots around the lake show some sophistication. But the script is utter crap, the performances pro forma and the “threat” even sillier, if bloodier, than it was last time around.
The now pat, unimaginative knock on McG was that he was the Guy Fieri of filmmakers, — loud, crass, garish, tacky, hacky, double fisted with Monster Energy drinks and reeking of Ax Body Spray. But you know what? Sadly, that shoe seems to snuggly fit and he seems more than willing to wear it.
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