Grab your pop porn!
Witchcraft 14, AKA Angel of Death, looks like it was made by amateurs, which could be said about every installment in a franchise on auto-pilot now for far too long. The sex scenes are becoming more elaborate, but the chicks aren’t getting cuter. The casting is a pathetic misstep, the lighting is random at best, the photography is daunting, and the CGI is cringeworthy.
The only thing Witchcraft 14 can afford is gore. It’s the only element that kind of works. This is The Craft’s retarded sibling. Take away the subtlety, the wit, and the charm, and you get one of the worst Witchcraft movies so far. Screenwriter Keith Parker reasons like a child, and brings this movie down, especially during scenes of dialogue. Nobody talks like this. Nobody thinks like this.
If you’re twelve years old and fascinated by witchcraft, you might feel absorbed by this abomination, but you shouldn’t be watching eroticism, which is the only reason this franchise still exists. It’s the only kind of porn you can watch while eating popcorn. Anyway, everyone got on my nerves. The cops reveal too much, the occultist is a dork, and the emo dude is way too intense. Fuck this movie.