Studio 666 (Movie Review)

There are movies that warrant not knowing a single thing about it before you’re placed firmly in front of a screen watching it unfold. Then there are movies where it’s wise to know exactly what it is you’re in for before you’ve committed a single cent toward your viewing experience. Studio 666 is firmly in the latter of those two wildly different approaches. To that end, what you’re in for when it comes to the Foo Fighters’ horror experience is nothing short of big dumb gooey fun that is certain to rub certain audiences the wrong way because their expectations weren’t properly vetted.

Studio 666 wears its influences on its sleeve like a sash covered in flair from Office Space, only there’s no Jennifer Anniston to show it off. The Evil Dead seems to serve as its primary source of inspiration whilst diving into a plethora of music industry Easter eggs. The plot centers around the Foo Fighters being pressured into recording their latest album as their manager puts them up in an abandoned mansion - one that was ground zero for another band’s slaughter - in order to give the band proper motivation for their sound. It’s not long before lead singer Dave Grohl stumbles upon a cursed recording that allows a demonic entity to possess his body with a singular focus of completing an epic 30-minute track from Hell and putting the rest of the band in his murderous crosshairs if they impede its completion.

So what are the expectations for a Foo Fighters horror movie? If you’ve avoided the trailers, it should still seem fairly obvious that a horror movie that stars the members of a band would have a winking sense of humor about it. That’s the safest assumption, but it’d be wise to take that expectation further. Studio 666 is as much of a throwback horror comedy as you can get. It’s got a darkness that can’t be overlooked, but the acting and over-the-top gore are so off-the-wall that you don’t even need the straightforward jokes to see this is all about having fun. Yet the opening sequence does feel oddly out of place as it lacks any of the cheesy gore and sense of humor—and honestly sets the whole thing up rather grimly. However, when you follow the opening up with the band joking about music that will blow people’s dicks into their own mouths it’s immediately impossible to take anything else all that seriously. Especially when you add in moments like Lionel Ritchie popping in to troll Grohl for singing one of his songs, and Will Forte as an UberEats-driving musician trying to push his demo while making sure Dave gets enough extra ranch. 

There's a clear "comedy first" focus here and all in all there’s nothing overtly impressive about Studio 666 that sets it apart from other movies of its ilk - it's just a fun trip back to a good old fashioned cheese fest. What BJ McDonnell and writers Jeff Buhler and Rebecca Hughes also lean on is the personalities and chemistry of the band members combined with faith that fans of the band will flock to this and eventually make it a cult classic of sorts. Credit where credit is due, however, as in the finale there is what this reviewer recalls as a single take tracking shot of two band members running and shrieking through the house while demons are popping out left in right. This scene in particular gives the audience the virtual experience of running through a haunted house and provides the film with a moment that really helps hammer home the fun this movie has to offer.

If the slapstick antics of a Scooby Doo mystery combined with possession angle of Evil Dead and the splattery gore of a cheesy 80’s movie starring the members of a rock band as themselves sounds like your idea of a good time then there’s no reason to believe good times won’t be had. If any of that somehow makes you believe you’re in for art house horror with emotionally relevant themes then maybe go back and reread the entirety of this review—or at least the part about the dicks. Studio 666 is a big dumb movie with big dumb gore that revels in its cheesy jokes and meandering plot and overlong runtime and never once feels the need to apologize for it. Not that it should have to. Except for the 106-minute runtime. It could apologize for that…maybe just a little bit.