‘Give Me Something Good’: A Horror Comedy That Cannot Turn Its Limitations Into Style

 

REVIEW

‘Give Me Something Good’: 

A Horror Comedy That Cannot Turn Its Limitations Into Style

Clay Moffatt’s Give Me Something Good, a Halloween-set horror comedy produced by Adam Berardi, arrives with the familiar ambitions of independent genre filmmaking: to entertain, unsettle, and find a place within the durable world of low-budget horror.

What it delivers is less a fully realized film than a raw early-career experiment—one that demonstrates the difference between working with limited resources and transforming those limitations into a deliberate style.

Starring Samantha Santillanes, Serenity Starr Foreman, Jonathan Michaels, Melissa Rokuskie, Stephen Kessen and Drew Lopez, the ensemble struggles with a screenplay that offers little character development, dramatic momentum or tonal clarity. The performances move uneasily between parody and sincerity, without committing convincingly to either.

That uncertainty is particularly damaging in a horror comedy. Comedy requires rhythm and an understanding of where the joke lands. Horror depends on tension, atmosphere and some investment in the characters. Give Me Something Good rarely establishes either, leaving the film stranded between frightening, ridiculous and merely amateurish.

Berardi’s cinematography does little to provide the film with an identity. Flat compositions, routine framing and functional lighting create images that neither build suspense nor strengthen the Halloween setting. Independent horror does not need a substantial budget to be visually effective. Inventive camera placement, controlled spaces, expressive lighting and strong sound design can turn financial restrictions into atmosphere. Here, the imagery remains largely pedestrian.

It might be argued that the film is intentionally crude—that it belongs to a tradition in which being “bad” is part of the aesthetic. Schlock horror uses cheap effects, exaggerated acting, and campy writing for shock and humor. Camp depends on theatrical excess and a knowing awareness of its own artificiality. B-movies often turn absurd plots and limited resources into charm, while trash cinema embraces micro-budgets, low taste and provocation.

Had Give Me Something Good committed convincingly to any of those traditions, it could be judged on those terms. It does not. There is little evidence of a controlled decision to make the film exaggerated, chaotic or amusingly bad. Its uneven acting, confused tone and weak visual choices do not feel purposeful. Even schlock requires timing. Camp requires self-awareness. Trash cinema requires energy and a point of view.

The film instead occupies an uncertain middle ground where intention and execution rarely meet. Scenes unfold without enough escalation, jokes lack the rhythm needed to land, and the horror elements generate little suspense. The familiar ingredients are present, but they never form a persuasive whole.

Independent horror has long served as a proving ground, and filmmakers rarely emerge with their voices fully formed. Completing a feature demands persistence and considerable effort. Moffatt, Berardi and their collaborators may learn from the experience and emerge with stronger storytelling instincts, greater visual confidence and a clearer command of tone.

But the difficulty of making a film cannot excuse what appears on the screen, and effort should not be mistaken for achievement.

For audiences seeking an inventive horror comedy, a memorable Halloween film or even a gleefully disreputable piece of trash cinema, Give Me Something Good is unlikely to satisfy. It lacks the scares, wit, imagination and self-awareness needed to succeed in any of those forms.

As a step in its filmmakers’ development, the project may eventually prove useful. As a finished film, however, it remains an unsuccessful experiment that has not yet learned how to make its rough edges part of the experience.