In the past decade or so we’ve been saturated by the horror genre – be it the new dynasties of Saw and Paranormal Activity or resurgence of the zombie-craze. It’s not surprising that more and more films are struggling to find their place in this ever more crowded fraternity by bending, or breaking,

And so we find ourselves sat around the dinner table with our upper-middle class, dysfunctional family attempting to enjoy our parents’ anniversary when crossbow bolts start flying through the air and the Chad Valley Farm Playset invade your home with machetes. And so begins what seems to be the standard formula of “who’s next” with the added bonus of how. That is until the director (Wingard) inverts the equation and we’re treated to a new take on the formula.

Don’t get me wrong, this is no masterpiece. Actually, it’s quite the opposite. But the film sets out to entertain, and if you stick with it through the chaff you’ll be treated to sweet wheat of what evolves into an 18 certificate edition of Home Alone with a heroine that can only be described as Xena after a heavy dose of meow meow.

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