At this point, should Jordan Peele bear some of the blame for the countless bad films he’s inspired in the years since Get Out? Based on the recurring delay of his next film, it feels like even he’s starting to feel the pressure of comparison. Then again, should Quentin Tarantino have been blamed for all the Pulp Fiction rip-offs of the ‘90s and early 2000s? Should Steven Spielberg be blamed for every movie centered around sharks or dinosaurs? It’s the mark of a true master, someone who makes it look so effortless that it deludes people into thinking that they can just as easily pull it off. 99% of them try and fail, with that one special person perfectly threading the needle between homage and distinctiveness, restarting the cycle all over again.

Much as it really wants to be in that 1% club, Him is most certainly an imitator, flaunting sights and sounds as if it were some deep and insightful piece of filmmaking. In actuality, it's just noise, an irritating string of moments that increasingly pushed me to pack up and go home. But instead of doing that, I stayed in my seat, recounting all the productive things I could have done with the ninety-six minutes I just burned. I could have read a few more chapters in that book I should have already finished, cherished these final few summer days by going on a walk, or just stared blankly at a wall.

Those corny workout videos that football teams post on social media during the offseason have been brought to the silver screen, only this time with more explanatory narration and opportunities for athletes to repeatedly take off their shirts. Cameron Cade (Tyriq Withers) is one of those shirtless hunks, the next great football quarterback. Unfortunately, that path of success is derailed when he’s struck in the head by a random attacker, an event that’s never mentioned again until much later in the film. As an act of redemption, Cameron takes an offer to spend a week training at the compound of Isaiah White (Marlon Wayans), the recipient of eight championship rings and the undisputed status of The GOAT (Greatest Of All Time).

You could say he’s the Daniel Day-Lewis of football, reaching his status through uncompromising dedication to his craft and a willingness to sacrifice everything. That even extends to the health and safety of his employees, all of them with a cult-like devotion to put their bodies on the line. There were several moments throughout that reminded me of Opus from earlier this year, which has been rightfully banished to the realm of obscurity. Both films try to expose our obsession with celebrity culture through a mixture of dark comedy and brutal horror. But the lameness of their ideas and ineffective scares make it a tedious snoozefest. The only benefit of the totally predictable jump scares is to jolt you back awake. But that’s only a startle, as it takes actual talent to scare someone.

And just like Opus, Him ends with a baffling sequence of reveals that invite dozens of questions about the logic and ultimate goal of this whole operation. Why does every Julia Fox scene end with her having to leave? Why are there a bunch of rabid fans living on the outskirts of the compound as if it’s Area 51? Why does Isaiah drink alcohol and smoke cigars when it’s already been established that he follows an extremely regimented diet? Why does Cameron always preach about the importance of family, only for all those characters to be extremely annoying? The more I ask these questions, the less I actually want the answer.

Him isn’t meant for fans of football, horror movies, or life in general. It’s meant to be used as a repellent, pushing people towards better movies. I’d like to consider this review as an act of public service, but I fear that the stench is going to stick with me for a while.