Unlike Book of Shadows, a bold attempt at meta-commentary that falls flat on its ass within the first ten minutes and never gets back up, Blair Witch plays things largely safe: it's a direct, in-universe sequel to the original movie. Though I am happy to have the world's first movie trilogy about which, if all you knew about the films was their respective titles, you'd probably assume they came out in exactly the reverse order as really happened. The original is a still-divisive work that divides viewers into the camps of 'an outstanding one-off masterpiece, don't you dare touch it' and 'nauseating, dimwitted garbage, why would you ever want another one?' I don't suppose I can imagine a film that would make either of those groups happy, let alone both of them, and if I could, it would look nothing like Blair Witch, a wholly disposable movie that largely resembles all of the other first-person camera movies of the last several years in its strengths, which are more or less equally balanced by its flagrant weaknesses. At the same time, Blair Witch had another bar to clear, almost as impossible as that first one was mindless: do something that justifies creating a sequel, 17 years later, to the 1999 indie film sensation The Blair Witch Project.

No movie has ever had such an easy bar to clear as director Adam Wingard and and screenwriter Simon Barrett's Blair Witch: be better than 2000's stupefyingly awful Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2, unrelentingly terrible and trashy even by the standards of horror sequels.

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