The killer looks a bit like the strung-out version of Hagrid, the dim-witted giant from the Harry Potter movies. Which is your first tipoff that this will be hands down the worst horror movie of the year, and certainly the worst of Wes Craven's career. Plot, syntax, character development, and, most important, even the tiniest shred of terror are all no-shows in Craven's big comeback movie. Okay, there's dialogue, but it's so loosely written and delivered that it's incomprehensible. Young, marginally attractive teens die mundanely because they were all born on the night the reanimated killer died. Or something. Also, one of them might be infected with his demonic soul. But the probable suspects bite it far too quickly for any suspense to build. By the end, I was willing to relinquish my soul . . . just give me my 107 minutes back.