Although these films have been around before and after the decade of the 2000s, she uses the titular term “millennial nasties” to refer to the movies made in this decade. This description excludes many popular horror films, as well as almost all popular non-horror movies. So, her intended audience is that sizable subgroup of fans (judging by the box office and video/streaming totals) who enjoy movies like the Saw franchise.

In fact, the Saw films are the first ones the author describes. She divides the book into three sections: The Nastiest Millennial Nasties, Original Slashers, and The Era of Remakes. The “nastiest nasties” section includes most of the movies that came to mind when I saw the description. Besides the Saw movies, the author discusses Hostel and its sequel, most of the Rob Zombie films from that decade, and The Strangers. The slashers section includes the Final Destination and Joy Ride films. And, as you might guess, the remakes include newer versions of genre classics like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Halloween, Last House on the Left, and Dawn of the Dead. Each film has its own chapter, most of them two or three pages long.

I enjoy well-made horror movies and have seen most of the films in Millennial Nasties during their original theatrical releases, but not since. However, I was not familiar with some of them (a few went directly to video). For each movie showcased in the book, the author includes a synopsis of widely varying detail and mentions the director and principal cast members. Some synopses gave me a good idea of the film’s plot; others just offered vague information. The author also described how each film fits within her definition of torture porn. (She candidly admitted not all the movies “checked off all the boxes.”) I found her discussion of the films’ lighting revealing. I knew that most of these movies looked dingy and dirty, but I had never paid attention to how they were lit.

The author devotes considerable time in Millennial Nasties to discussing the similarities and differences between the so-called millennial nasties and other popular horror films like the Scream franchise that extended into the 2000s. She also points out differences between this decade’s remakes and the original versions of the classics. Some are obvious (more graphic violence and more nudity), while others are insightful. For example, she points out villains like Michael Myers are given more extensive backstories (and shown as children) in the remakes than in the originals.

Unfortunately, the author isn’t content with discussing these movies from a technical standpoint or offering critical reviews. Instead, she often tries to find social significance in them. For example, she tries to point out the influence that 9/11 may have had on these movies. Other than the first Final Destination movie, which was released before 9/11 and used an airport setting in its opening set piece that became outdated soon afterward, I failed to see any impact the tragedy had on these films. She also discusses the familiar horror tropes like the “final girl” and how millennial nasties sometimes honor the trope and sometimes don’t. Her explanations for the dichotomies varied from movie to movie.

In trying to explain why millennial nasties pushed the envelope as far as graphic violence and nudity were concerned, the author overlooks the most obvious explanation. By the year 2000, there was a growing market for PG-13 horror. These films substituted clever camera work and character development for blood and gore. Movies like The Others and The Ring were critically and commercially successful. Producers of millennial nasties competed by giving audiences what the PG-13 horror films couldn’t: copious amounts of gore and violence.

I was also disappointed by the relative lack of biographical information about the actors and directors involved and any behind-the-scenes details. Tobin Bell is the essential force behind the Saw movies, but readers learn little about him (as opposed to his character’s peculiar sense of morality). The author discusses how the Saw franchise came to be, but otherwise, there is little about the making of these movies. She also includes a brief chapter at the end of the book entitled “Six Degrees of SAW-peration,” showing how various actors in the Saw franchise appeared in other horror films in the book and elsewhere. (This is unsurprising since actors tend to get typecast as “horror” actors. Just ask Robert Englund.) That chapter is entertaining, but Millennial Nasties needed more material like that.

Ariel Powers-Schaub knows horror movies and has a substantial background in film studies. In Millennial Nasties, however, too much knowledge is counterproductive. She repeatedly tries to find greater social significance in movies that have none. These films entertain. Characters behave as they do to move the story along or to keep the audience involved. Character types have remained the same over the decades. Occasionally, horror films provide insight into greater societal issues, like Jordan Peele’s Get Out, which won a Best Screenplay Oscar (and got a Best Picture nomination). However, none of the movies in this book comes within a mile of Oscar recognition. I’m giving Millennial Nasties a three-star rating and a very mild recommendation. Hardcore genre fans will undoubtedly like it more than I did. But it represents a misguided effort by a very knowledgeable author.

NOTE: The publisher graciously provided me with a copy of this book through BookSirens. However, the decision to review the book and the contents of this review are entirely my own.