This limey couple's homegrown ride goes bananas and they're lucky to walk away not dead, which serves them right for trusting a British car in the first place. I guess they were lulled into a sense of false confidence when they actually got the thing to start. Now they're stranded in some pretty spooky woods, full of spooky fog, and it seems like they're completely boned until they find this spooky trail that leads through a spooky gate and right up to this big old house. (Huh? Oh, the house really isn't that spooky. It's kind of nice, actually.) There's an old lady and a bunch of weird little kids living there, and, well, the cover and title pretty much give away what happens next. Up to this point this flick isn't too shabby, and when the first werewolf shows up it might even make you jump, but then the husband gets knocked unconscious, wakes up in the hospital, and his wife tells him it was all just a dream! That's a horrible ending, but trust me, it's even worse as the middle. I mean, we started off with evil children and werewolves and mysterious woods full of creepy fog, and now, when they should really be amping shit up, it's just a bunch of white people standing around talking. (I point out that they're white because, as we all know, white people are especially boring.) The story eventually finds its way back to the old house, but by then it's hard to really give a damn and the whole thing just kind of sputters out and dies by the side of the road, not unlike the car that started this whole mess in the first place.

Like how I came full circle with that one?