‘V/H/S Mixtape’ Review: Shudder’s Helter-Skelter Horror Anthology Still Has Some Killer Tracks

It’s pretty presumptuous to make someone a mixtape. You might like the person. Heck, you might even think you love them. But giving a person a mixtape of all things is also kind of like saying, “Here’s a collection of emotions I’ve decided you should feel, in an order I’ve personally determined, for reasons that probably won’t make sense to anyone but me. Enjoy!” Yikes. The ninth installment in the beloved “V/H/S” franchise takes that potentially awkward premise to a horrifying cinematic extreme, with the new anthology streaming on Shudder October 9. This time, the night’s entertainment includes four short films and a handful of musical interludes, all built around the theme of… sound? A perfectly fine excuse to make another “V/H/S” movie, to be sure. But “V/H/S Mixtape” also suggests the series’ sense of novelty is growing harder to maintain. Broadly speaking, the element of surprise goes hand-in-hand with found footage. “V/H/S” made its comeback in 2021, after the seven-year gap that followed the franchise’s critical low point, “V/H/S: Viral.” Today, the brand’s stewards are a mix of veteran producers and relative newcomers who have kept the fanbase alive by using the IP to platform filmmakers with a remarkable array of creative talents. In “V/H/S Mixtape” (the first installment released under new franchise owners Spooky Pictures and Image Nation Abu Dhabi), the assembled artists are at remarkably different places in their careers, too. Veteran director and Spike Lee collaborator Ernest Dickerson brings decades of filmmaking experience, while French horror director David Moreau arrives fresh off the success of 2024’s “MadS.” Wu-Tang Clan’s RZA and electronic musician Flying Lotus contribute their unique sensibilities as well — with Ghost frontman Tobias Forge making his directorial debut. ‘V/H/S Mixtape: The Music of Mr. Sze’ But it’s emerging animator Renee Zhan who makes the strongest case for the franchise’s continued relevance as a showcase for unconventional horror talent. The boundaries of contemporary found footage are becoming harder to define, and there’s no denying that a vertical video randomly dropped into someone’s feed can trick them in ways a feature film can’t. Against that increasingly unpredictable digital landscape, Zhan’s contribution, “Dance, Dance, Dance, Dance,” is all the more impressive for embracing a decidedly antiquated broadcast format: the children’s puppet show. Featuring original creations from Jim Henson’s Creature Shop, a quick behind-the-scenes look at the long-canceled “Curious Chorus” kids’ program reveals a delightfully cruel satire about Hollywood greed. Barbara Crampton (long may she reign!) plays a studio executive with the manic confidence of a coked-out Suze Orman, presiding over an ill-advised attempt to reproduce beloved characters via digital scans. The premise begins with some vaguely annoying commentary on the death of linear TV before plunging into a first-person chase sequence that reads like going through the haunted love tunnel of a deranged theme park. Screenwriter Zoe Cooper supplies a total of four would-be victims for Zhan to dispatch, and the puppets quickly pick off the first three in some amusing and inventive ways. It’s the fourth meat sack who isn’t so lucky, facing a dragged-out demise that’s not just uncomfortable to endure but oddly embarrassing to witness. ‘V/H/S Mixtape: Dance, Dance, Dance, Dance’ From the recent theatrical horror hit “Buddy” to the surreal Showtime series “Kidding,” there are a staggering number of genre productions that have succeeded by turning cute clumps of felt into vehicles for something seriously fucked up. What sets “Dance, Dance, Dance, Dance” apart is its outstanding control over the inevitable, gaining its power through the brutal deliberateness of its torture. The segment’s instantaneously irritating jingle offers an earworm you just don’t want in your head while you’re watching someone else lose theirs — but much like an unwanted playlist from a secret admirer, this bite-sized nightmare insists you engage with what Zhan has prepared for you, like it or not. The rest of “V/H/S Mixtape” is less nimble, and that leaves the outing mostly a wash. For his part, Moreau contributes “Heartbeat,” in which something like “The Descent” and something like “The Backrooms” perform a nonsensical duet of survival horror that’s been done better before. When a pair of urban explorers venture into an underground facility associated with sinister audio experiments, the segment’s vlogging setup gets caught between its familiar visual format and the installment’s overarching musical theme. ‘V/H/S Mixtape: Heartbeat’ The couple winds up describing being tortured by the silence of this bizarrely engineered cavern more than the film actually tries to make the audience experience it, and that’s disappointing coming from a director whose recent work suggested a more cunning command of sensory horror. “Heartbeat” still has a cool set, and actors Julie Clergerie and Elie Kaempfen boast some incredible chemistry. (Plus, a nasty little tattoo joke gives the whole ordeal some welcome bite if you’re paying close attention.) Dickerson’s “The Music of Mr. Sze” is infinitely more frustrating, as the esteemed cinematographer brings outsized visual sophistication to a boarding-house mystery centering a string musician and a young man wearing a pair of smart glasses. The second those two elements meet, it’s clear we’re cooked, and you can’t help but wonder what might have happened if someone else had written Dickerson’s “V/H/S” contribution. That said, there’s something about being held captive inside another person’s questionable taste that can really work for certain horror anthologies, and the director at least comes off wonderfully playful here. Finally, RZA’s “Death Tone” fares somewhat better than those two sections, even if it plays like the micro-budget baby of “High Fidelity” and “American Mary.” Neela Jolene stars as a young sound engineer grieving her recording-artist father while pursuing a legendary stage of her own. Unfortunately, her dad’s musical achievements relied on some profoundly perverse methods, and she’ll have to find her own way into the family business — critics be damned. ‘V/H/S Mixtape: Death Tone’ Seemingly inspired by the dental-drill recording Billie Eilish famously sampled for “Bury a Friend,” “Death Tone” includes a fantastic sequence in which Jolene’s character remixes literal agony into an aggressively rhythmic track. The actress is an enormously entertaining presence, and the premise practically begs for an explosive music video finale. Instead, the ensuing spree sputters from one encounter to the next, leaving you with a choppy number that should go bigger and end sooner. As for a host, the shock-metal icons of GWAR appear throughout. That’s likely to inspire either affection or immediate exhaustion, depending on your fondness for the infamously disgusting performance group. A menagerie of rude and disgusting brutes, GWAR offers some objectively funny gross-out dialogue, but their “V/H/S Mixtape” segments are presented through such a cheap visual lens that it makes the band’s whole enterprise feel dated in a bad way. ‘V/H/S Mixtape’ Having been around for more than four decades doing the same damn thing, GWAR continues to age into its accomplishments like a sweaty T-shirt. Generally, a great anthology wraparound should give the audience room to breathe — or gradually make the entire movie feel claustrophobic. The GWAR interludes try both and accomplish neither, while Forge’s contribution is astonishingly forgettable. Flying Lotus, conversely, offers a moonlit, monstrous animated interlude that’s beautiful and barely concerned with fitting the theme. In the end, it genuinely doesn’t have to be, although you do wonder why the filmmaker didn’t try something stranger after making movies like “Kuso.” Of course, that unevenness is all but encoded into the “V/H/S” DNA by this point. Originally conceived by Bloody Disgusting co-founder Brad Miska, the anthology series has survived a small carousel of distributors, an explosive streaming-era revival, and most recently, the addition of a new financial partner. ‘V/H/S Mixtape’ None of that has erased the films’ core identity, and Zhan’s contribution to “V/H/S Mixtape,” in particular, serves as proof that the series can still introduce horror fans to earnestly exciting artists — while simultaneously educating them about pop culture frameworks they may have never personally experienced. But balancing those levels comes with a strange contradiction: Even as the “V/H/S” installments themselves remain fresh, the mat they fit feels progressively nostalgic. That’s an awkward position for a property whose modern reputation was made on cutting-edge discovery. Maybe, then, the solution is to stop insisting that “V/H/S” collections function as complete tapes. Troma Now, for example, has a randomizer built into its streaming catalog. It’s a single button that randomly takes you to any given nightmare the service has in stock: a brilliant idea that, sure, probably zero people reliably use… but imagine something similar for “V/H/S” segments! A short from 2012 might suddenly follow one from 2026, with no promise that the next selection would resemble either. If horror anthologies still make a decent case for the pleasures of manufactured randomness, actual randomness might be more exciting — and in that sense at least, “V/H/S Mixtape” has got the goods. So, do it: make the mixtape. Just don’t commit to a love letter. Grade: C+ Shudder’s “V/H/S Mixtape” premieres on streaming October 9.