Grab a tissue...
Witchcraft 12 has one of the most amusing plot lines in this miserable franchise. It goes all out. It looks like it was written by a thirteen-year-old who just discovered sex, gore, and magic. Brad Sykes is that man boy. He writes and directs yet another Witchcraft movie about a serial killer, detectives, strippers, aardvarking, and witchcraft. There’s nothing here we haven’t seen 11 times before.
This franchise is what it is. If it was any smarter, Witchcraft 12 would be a stand-alone movie. The acting is fucking awful, and only surpassed in mediocrity by the dialogue. Every ounce of this picture sucks, and it’s hard to sit through. Whoever lit this thing should’ve been fired. Whoever recorded the audio should be lapidated. The exterior shots are uncomfortably lame.
Witchcraft 12 doesn’t know if it wants to make you cum or cry. Either way, grab a tissue. Grab the whole box. Doesn’t matter how serious this story gets. No plot point is too dramatic for a good pair of boobs. Like it or not, for better or worse, this franchise is deeply rooted in sex and witchcraft. Budget has always been the number one issue with this series, shortly followed by incompetence...