
I tend not to watch anthology horror movies much, unless it’s October. I’m not sure why, as I do like them. Some of my favorite horror films – like Creepshow and Trick ‘r Treat – are anthology films. I guess it’s for the same reason that I don’t read short story collections as much as I do novels – I’m usually looking for a deeper, more involved experience.
Spooky season always puts me in the mood for an anthology, though. They’re the cinematic equivalent of telling scary stories around a fire in the dark, and you can get a bunch of scares in small doses. Done well, they’re every bit as satisfying as a full-length feature. They also have the benefit of being able to move on to another, possibly better, segment if the one you’re watching isn’t to your liking. The VHS series has always been uneven, for me, for instance – but there’s usually a segment or two that I enjoy.

I hadn’t been paying much attention to new releases this year, so the only anthology I’ve been thinking of checking out is the new VHS Beyond, currently streaming on Shudder. I hadn’t actually subscribed to Shudder, however, and I’m still not sure I will this year. I’m flush with bunch of other services at the moment, and the idea of subbing just for one film – and one that’s part of a series that’s been uneven – wasn’t thrilling me.
So when I got the opportunity to see an indie horror anthology I hadn’t heard of, I jumped at it.
The Medium
Disclaimer: I received a streaming screener of Tenants. I like the opportunity to see films this way, but I’m not beholden to them and I have chosen not to review films I’ve received like this in the past. Tenants was released to VOD on September 2024 and can be rented or purchased via AppleTV or Amazon. As far as I can tell, there’s no current physical release.
The Movie
My favorite horror anthologies all have a framing sequence – a narrative that interconnects the various segments and, ideally, tells a story of its own. Tenants starts things off right this way, introducing us to Joni (screenwriter Mary O’Neil), who arrives in the parking garage of an apartment building by tearing her way out of a goopy, fleshy sack. She quickly finds clothes and shoes in a lost-and-found box in the building’s laundry room. And then she quickly hides as another version of her walks in.

So! Nice start. I’m immediately invested in this story and what this person – creature? – is up to. I mentioned finding the clothes specifically because I’m always slightly irritated when some naked person in a film finds exactly what they need in a stranger’s yard or donation box. Here, the filmmakers actually used the revelation that Joni is a copy (or alternate or whatever) to also show her looking in the lost-and-found box. So the clothes (or at least the shoes) might be hers, which neatly explains how they fit. It’s a minor thing, but I appreciated it.
The first Joni runs into another tenant (literally) and we discover she’s looking for her sister, Emily. We then follow the tenant, Amber (Christa Collins) back to her apartment. This is how the framing sequence will work – after each segment we’ll continue with Joni for a few minutes until she interacts with another tenant, then we’ll see their story. None of these stories are happy ones, really, but it IS a horror anthology after all.
I’ll break the segments out below. The framing sequence is called “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Acting Rash”

Amber, it turns out, is a former child star, still trying to make it in the business. She receives a call from her agent with the great news that a famous director wants her to audition for his new film. (They say “Sean Rollins,” but I initially heard “Jean Rollin,” which would have been weird.) Unfortunately, she’s got a rash breaking out, and nothing she tries seems to work on it.
This segment has moments, but the acting is a little clunky and things escalate too quickly for me at the end. I think it would benefit from a few more minutes of buildup, especially once Amber realizes what, exactly, will help reduce that nasty looking rash.
“Hoarder”

After an interaction with Joni, where she reiterates her desire to find Emily and flees from a dark, smoky figure, we enter the apartment of an elderly black man named Jude (Myles Cranford). He’s obviously a hoarder, with his apartment filled with garbage, old food containers, books and brik-a-brak. His son tries to talk him into cleaning out the place, but everything he touches reminds Jude of his recently deceased wife. He can’t let go of anything – it’s all he has left of her.
This is a surprisingly emotional segment, and I like the idea of the story. It once again feels a little truncated, though. There’s not enough build up to our understanding of just how much of Jude’s wife is left in the debris. The special effects are also a little too ridiculous for the weight of the story. If they’d leaned more into paper and box debris and less on shiny, plastic garbage bags and food containers I think it would have worked better. The heart of the story works well, though.
“The Photograph”

Joni is having problems finding the right floor, and the elevator deposits her into a dark red hallway with far too many eyes. Fleeing back into the elevator she meets Leonard (Douglas Vermeeren), who is holding a camera and has a wounded arm. We follow Leonard back to his dark room where we discover he’s been bad. Very bad. But his photography subject isn’t going to let him get away with it.
This segment is fine, with a creepy stalker storyline and some ghostly vengeance. There’s some conversation that’s awkward and goes on too long, but the individual flashback elements and how they’re seen is unsettling and it contains one particular moment – when Leonard lies on the floor, holding hands with the object of his interest, that gave me the creeps. This segment reminded me of older, Tales from the Crypt stories, and I appreciated that – though it lacks the tongue-in-cheek tone.
“Nah”
This is the shortest segment – following a new tenant as he moves into his apartment. It made me laugh out loud.
“Try Again”

Joni continues her journey to find Emily, pursued by the smoke figure. She overhears an argument in apartment 408 and this turns out to be Tim (Ivan Djurovic) and Sara (Tara Erickson). The argument isn’t important, but the why is. Sara has recently had a miscarriage, and the loss of their child colors all their interactions. The baby is gone, but her presence and their preparations for her arrival haunt every step and every moment.
It’s taken me this long to realize most of the stories revolve around loss and grief. Around people unable to accept losing something, or someone.
There are some heartfelt and meaningful conversations in this segment, including one that Sara has with Joni on the stairs. This also has some of the best acting in the film. Sara tries to put things behind her, but her grief – and her child – aren’t done with her yet. Some truly creepy moments follow, and the effects are… uh, effective, even if obviously low-budget.
“Need Anything”

Gracie (Fayna Sanchez) and Belinda (Clarke Wolfe) are roommates of the dysfunctional kind, Gracie is the free spirit, the kind to eat someone’s clearly labelled food out of the fridge or (horrors) clip her toenails in the common area. Belinda is the straight arrow, the kind of person who will, well, label her food in the fridge. They’ve obviously been getting on each other’s nerves for a long time, and today’s the day all that resentment boils over.
This is my favorite segment of the whole film, and lifts the entire anthology. Director Buz Wallick (who also has screenwriting credits and directed both the “Hoarder” segment and the framing sequence) indulges in an excess of violence and humor that’s damn entertaining. Every time you think things are done, it escalates. Wolfe, in particular, is fun to watch.
Tonally, it’s quite a shift from the previous segments, but it’s so much fun I give it a pass.
“You Don’t Belong Here”
After spending the film looking for her sister, fleeing the smokey figure, and having weird and violent episodes (hallucinations?), Joni finally locates Emily, only to find that things aren’t as straightforward as she had hoped. It’s another story about grief, about acceptance. It’s a nice, if weird, throughline for the film.
The Bottom Line
While not as consistent as I’d have liked – and that note about grief and acceptance has some detours in segments like “Need Anything” – I enjoyed Tenants. It doesn’t reach the heights of horror anthology films like Asylum or Trick r’ Treat, but it’s still an enjoyable handful of scary stories told around the campfire.
