Final Destination: Bloodlines brings death back with a wicked sense of humor and style. After more than a decade in limbo, the infamous horror franchise makes a grisly return with its sixth installment, delivering a twistedly entertaining ride packed with gruesome deaths and sly nods to its roots.
The film isn’t shy about the absurdity of its premise. Directors Zach Lipovsky and Adam B Stein, known for their inventive work on Freaks, don’t aim for prestige horror. Instead, they embrace the franchise’s outrageous nature while adding cinematic flair. Their version of Final Destination doesn’t apologize for being campy; it thrives on it, crafting elaborate, Rube Goldberg-style death sequences that turn even the most innocent household items into instruments of doom.
Opening with a stunning sequence set in the 1960s, we meet Iris (Brec Bassinger), blindfolded and riding to a mysterious night out. She and her boyfriend arrive at a glamorous new restaurant perched atop an observation deck. The joyful setting, complete with live music and a glass-bottom dance floor, quickly morphs into a suspenseful premonition of disaster. The scene builds tension masterfully, and it’s clear we’re not just witnessing a random catastrophe, but the birth of the franchise’s curse.
This prelude does more than kick off another chain of death. It cleverly rewrites the series’ history, presenting Bloodlines as an origin story. Iris’s horrifying vision is just the beginning. Decades later, her granddaughter Stefani (Kaitlyn Santa Juana) starts experiencing similar visions, uncovering disturbing family secrets and drawing a direct connection to the franchise’s legacy. The twist? Death isn’t only after the survivors this time—it’s coming for their descendants.
There’s a richness to the storytelling here that surpasses expectations. The film mixes genuine character moments with over-the-top gore. Richard Harmon, as the cynical but endearing cousin, stands out among the cast, giving audiences someone to root for, even in a series that traditionally enjoys killing off everyone.
Lipovsky and Stein’s direction leans into visual creativity. From lawn equipment to malfunctioning MRIs, the deaths are theatrical and often hilarious in a macabre way, echoing silent film slapstick. Bloodlines also throws in clever callbacks to earlier entries in the series—barbecues, buses, ceiling fans, and of course, those infamous logs. It’s fan service, yes, but done with purpose, often building toward surprising or emotional payoffs.
One especially poignant moment is the return of Tony Todd as William Bludworth. In his final appearance before his death, Todd delivers a haunting monologue that serves as a goodbye to both his character and the actor himself. His words echo throughout the film, reminding the characters—and viewers—to make the most of their time.
The revival of Final Destination doesn’t just recycle the formula; it refreshes it. Bloodlines is a satisfying blend of nostalgia, innovation, and gruesome creativity. It knows exactly what it is and delivers on that promise, making death more fun—and frightening—than it’s been in years.
