“MEATHOOK” Is A Blood-Soaked Slasher You Need To See

Horror movies aren’t usually in on their own joke. They sprint straight to the point: there’s a killer, there are victims, and—if the horror gods smile on us—a decapitation or two. Every so often, though, we’re treated to the rare brilliance of meta horror, a film that knows exactly what it is and has fun with it. Ever since Wes Craven’s genre-shaking Scream carved its way onto the big screen, self-aware scares have become a fan-favorite sub-genre. Most directors try to bottle that same lightning; few get close, but every now and then, one comes surprisingly near. The latest to sharpen its blade in that self-aware arena is “Meathook”, Terror Films Releasing’s newest addition, bringing together Rene Leech, Havon Baraka, Buddy “Doc” Clements, and David Alan Graf under the wickedly imaginative writing/directing of Jermy Ashley.

Synopsis

“Two years after the horrific massacre of her friends by an infamous killer, recluse Jordyn (Rene Leech) grapples with her past. When a string of similar murders occurs, Jordyn must face her fears head-on with the help of a true-crime podcaster Grayson (Havon Baraka).”

When I first sat down to watch “Meathook”, I expected another serviceable slasher with a catchy title and a pile of bodies. What I didn’t expect was a brilliantly sharp, hilariously self-aware, and surprisingly heartfelt ride. Its as much about survival after the carnage as it is about the carnage itself. Jeremy Ashley, both writing and directing, takes the well-worn "final girl" trope, drags it kicking and screaming into the spotlight. It forces us to consider what happens when the credits roll, not for the killer, not for the cops, but for the person left standing when everyone else is gone. And let me tell you, he does it with style.

Ashley’s approach to horror is the kind of fresh thinking the genre is constantly craving but rarely gets. Sure, I’ve seen “aftermath” explored in horror before, but not with this much wit, confidence, and perfectly judged meta-comedy. The humor never undercuts the fear; it sharpens it. Every part of the plot lands like a scalpel—precise and designed to make you both feel the fear of the main character, and chuckle at the jokes they throw in. I found myself grinning at clever digs at horror clichés one minute, then clutching the armrest in genuine dread the next. That balancing act is no easy feat, but Ashley makes it feel effortless, like he’s been steering a blockbuster horror franchise for decades rather than making what is, somehow, only one entry in his growing cinematic arsenal.

The heart of the movie is Rene Leech as Jordyn, and I’ll say this without hesitation that this is a career-defining performance. Leech manages the tricky duality of being both brittle and unbreakable. Jordyn is not some screaming caricature of trauma; she’s layered, complicated, sometimes infuriating, and always real. You see the toll those two years of trauma have taken, and you feel the way her paranoia seeps into every breath she takes. It’s in the way she flinches at the sound of a dropped pan, in the way her eyes dart when someone knocks on her door, and in the way her voice catches mid-sentence when the past sneaks up on her. Leech makes Jordyn a flesh-and-blood person first, horror heroine second, and that makes the film’s scares hit even harder.

Courtesy of Terror Films Releasing

Then there’s Havon Baraka, who absolutely crushes it as the true-crime podcaster who coaxes Jordyn back into the world. I’ve seen plenty of “quirky sidekick” characters in horror, but Baraka sidesteps the stereotype. His character has a natural charisma that feels genuine, not manufactured for comic relief. When he drops a joke, it’s not a wink at the audience—it’s part of the rhythm of who he is. Baraka’s energy is infectious, and his chemistry with Leech is the kind of slow-burn trust-building that makes their dynamic believable. They’re not instantly bonded by the situation; they circle each other warily until necessity forces them to close the gap. You also get to see his depth when it comes to him suffering from his own past trauma. You can see that he and Jordyn are two sides of the same coin.

Buddy "Doc" Clements deserves his credibility also. His role (without spoiling too much) starts as a background player, but by the midpoint, he’s a fully immersed character in the movie’s intricate plot. Clements brings a subtle gravitas. He grounds his scenes that could have easily tipped into absurdity, simply by bordering a not too serious but campy cop. His presence has that rare, yet old-school horror charm. The kind that makes you feel like the movie is whispering, “Don’t get too comfortable, things may go off the rails.”

Of course I would be crazy not to highlight David Alan Graf’s performance as Wayne Carver aka Meathook. He takes what could have been a straightforward frightening role and injects it with a dangerous unpredictability. Graf’s performance is the kind that keeps you guessing about his character’s motives until the final reel. He has this uncanny ability to make even the most innocent line of dialogue feel like it’s hiding something sinister. He takes a hybrid approach of blending Michael Myers with Jason Voorhees, but completely makes it his own. Watching him work is like trying to read a horror novel where someone has ripped out every third page. You can’t stop watching while he is on screen, and you need to know what his next move will be. It makes you never want to look away, even for a moment.

Courtesy of Terror Films Releasing

What elevates “Meathook” beyond a clever concept and strong performances is Ashley’s absolute mastery of tone. This is a horror film that’s not afraid to be playful, but it’s never frivolous. The kills are creative without tipping into parody, brutal without being gratuitous. There’s a craftsmanship in how they’re staged, with Ashley understanding that sometimes the most terrifying thing is what you don’t see. He’ll let a shadow move in the background, or hold the camera just long enough for your mind to fill in the worst possible image. I could practically feel my pulse slow and then spike on cue.

The meta-comedy elements are where Ashley really flexes his creativity. There’s a running thread with the glances at the camera, or the behind the scenes filming look that hits perfectly. The movie also does well with poking at our fascination with the macabre true crime elements that fascinate most people, but it does so without shaming the audience. Instead, it slyly reminds us that behind every sensationalized “story” is a living, breathing person, someone like Jordyn. Someone who doesn’t get the luxury of skipping to the end of the episode.

One of my favorite aspects of “Meathook” is how it resists the urge to turn Jordyn into a superhero by the finale. Yes, she fights back, but it’s messy, desperate, and fueled as much by fear as by bravery. There’s no tidy catharsis here, and that’s exactly why the ending sticks. Ashley understands that true horror doesn’t wrap itself in a neat bow. It lingers. It festers. It forces you to carry it home with you.

Courtesy of Terror Films Releasing

Visually, the movie is a treat. The cinematography leans into contrasting an almost fogged light filtered the movie. All of this perfectly highlights Jordyn’s isolating home life, saturated reds and deep shadows for some of the violent sequences. It’s the kind of visual storytelling that makes you feel the emotional temperature of each scene without a single word spoken. The camera often lingers on Leech’s face just a beat longer than comfortable, letting you watch the flickers of thought and memory play across her expression. It’s a small but potent touch that deepens the film’s emotional weight.

I also can’t ignore the score, which oscillates between moody, minimalist piano and sudden jarring stabs of synth. It’s not just background noise. It’s a pulse, an extra character in the film, pushing and pulling at the audience’s nerves. There were moments where the sound design alone made me grip my seat, convinced something awful was just out of frame.

By the time the credits rolled, I realized “Meathook” had pulled off something rare: it made me laugh out loud, shiver in dread, and genuinely care about its characters. It did this all without undercutting a single one of those emotions. Jeremy Ashley is not just dabbling in horror; he’s building the foundation for a franchise that could stand shoulder to shoulder with the genre’s greats. If “Meathook” is any indication, we’re witnessing the early chapters of a filmmaker who understands that horror works best when it’s not afraid to be both a mirror and a funhouse.

Courtesy of Terror Films Releasing

So yes, I’m calling it now. This movie is going to be one of those cult favorites that people recommend with an almost evangelical fervor. The kind of movie you show a friend with the caveat, “Just trust me,” before watching their jaw drop halfway through. It’s a slasher for people who love slashers, a meta-comedy for people who think they’re too savvy to be scared, and a character study for anyone who’s ever wondered what happens when the scream queen goes home and the silence sets in. This movie isn’t just worth your time, it demands it and if Ashley’s next project is even half as good, I’m ready to line up on opening night, popcorn in hand, heart racing in anticipation of whatever he’s about to throw at us next.

“Meathook” from Terror Films Releasing is now available on streaming services like including Chilling, Scare Network TV, Kings of Horror, Watch Movies Now, Shocks & Docs, TFR’s official AVOD YouTube channel, and many more.

Whether it’s slashers in the woods, ghosts in the attic, or killers in the cornfield, ILHM Reviews brings you the frightful horror flick recommendations worth watching. Follow us on Instagram, be sure to listen to the the "I Love Horror" podcast and remember that if you’re a true fan of horror, every night can be a FRIGHT NIGHT!