John Hsu, the Taiwanese maestro behind the chilling 2019 Detention, has returned with a spectral middle finger to mediocrity in Dead Talents Society. Where Detention was a somber dive into Taiwan’s White Terror era, weaving historical trauma with supernatural dread, this new outing is a gleeful, blood-soaked romp that swaps somber for silly without sacrificing substance. Hsu’s knack for world-building, honed in Detention’s oppressive schoolhouse nightmare, explodes here into a vibrant afterlife bureaucracy that’s equal parts Beetlejuice, Cabin in the Woods, and a savage roast of influencer culture. It’s a horror-comedy that rips out your funny bone, slathers it in fake blood, and hands it back with a wink.

Dead Talents Society drops us into a world where ghosts aren’t just haunting for kicks, they’re hustling to stay relevant. If the living forget you, you glitch out like a shitty VHS tape and poof into oblivion. Enter The Rookie (Gingle Wang), a shy, bespectacled teen ghost who’s about as scary as a damp sock. With only 30 days to snag a “haunter’s license” and avoid eternal erasure, she’s got her work cut out. Her pal Camilla (Bai Bai) is along for the ride, but the real action kicks off when smarmy talent agent Makoto (Chen Bolin) recruits her to join the washed-up ghost diva Catherine (Sandrine Pinna). Once the queen of hotel room 414’s contortionist scares, Catherine’s now outshined by her protégé-turned-rival Jessica (Eleven Yao), a viral video vixen channeling Perfect Blue’s pop-star chic. What follows is a bloody, hilarious underdog tale as The Rookie trains to find her scare, Catherine claws for relevance, and the whole crew skewers the grind of fame in a ghost-eat-ghost world.

At its core, Dead Talents Society is a razor-sharp satire of our obsession with being seen. Ghosts need to scare to survive, mirroring the living’s desperate scramble for likes, follows, and fleeting relevance. Hsu and co-writer Tsai Kun-Lin expose the absurdity of a world where even the dead can’t escape the hustle. The film’s afterlife, with its talk shows, Golden Ghost Awards, and Morgue magazine, is a funhouse mirror of our own, where fame is currency and obscurity is death. The Rookie’s struggle to find her “signature scare” parallels every awkward kid who’s ever felt invisible, making her arc a poignant plea for self-acceptance in a world that rewards flash over substance.

Symbolism is woven into the glitches that threaten The Rookie’s existence, visual static that screams impermanence, like a digital ghost fading from the algorithm. Catherine’s hotel room 414, with its peeling glamour shots, is a shrine to faded glory, while Jessica’s cursed internet video nods to the ephemeral power of viral fame. The film’s heart lies in its “found family” of misfits, a counterpoint to the cutthroat competition. Their bond suggests that real legacy isn’t in being remembered by the masses but in the connections that endure. Hsu’s love for East Asian horror shines through, with nods to The Ring’s Sadako and Shutter’s shocking twists repurposed as gags, turning genre tropes into a playful commentary on how we mythologize fear.

The screenplay by Hsu and Tsai Kun-Lin balances tones beautifully. It’s whip-smart, packing laugh-out-loud quips and gore-soaked gags into a narrative that never forgets its emotional core. Dialogue crackles with deadpan wit, when The Rookie moans, “I hate this world,” it’s both a hilarious flop and a gut-punch of relatable despair. The script’s structure, framing scares as reality TV stunts or talk-show segments, keeps the pace breakneck while satirizing media saturation. Some social media jabs feel like low-hanging fruit, and the third act leans a tad predictable with its “believe in yourself” resolution. But the sheer inventiveness, ghosts auditioning like they’re on America’s Got Talent, complete with Looney Tunes sound effects, makes it hard to care about minor missteps. This is a script that knows its genre inside out and loves it enough to both mock and celebrate it.

Let’s start with the good, because Dead Talents Society is a goddamn delight. Originality is its trump card. Hsu’s afterlife is a fresh spin on the ghost story, blending Taiwanese urban legends with a universal critique of fame. The acting is stellar: Gingle Wang’s Rookie is a pitch-perfect mix of mopey and magnetic, her deadpan delivery stealing scenes. Sandrine Pinna’s Catherine walks a tightrope between icy diva and wounded soul, while Chen Bolin’s Makoto brings boyish charm to a role that could’ve been one-note. Direction is where Hsu shines brightest, juggling horror, comedy, and heart with the finesse of a spectral ringmaster. His visual flair with cartoonish gore meets sleek talk-show sets, keeps the energy infectious. Cinematography by Chou Yi-Hsien isn’t groundbreaking but nails the eerie vibe, with dimly lit hotel corridors and glitchy ghost effects that pop. The movie admittedly is more comedy-first, but when it scares (Catherine’s back-bending crawl is a standout), it lands. Thematic ambition is the film’s secret weapon, tackling identity, loss, and the grind of existence without preaching.

Critiques? The film’s not perfect, and I’m not here to blow smoke up its ectoplasmic ass. The social media satire occasionally feels like it’s punching down, rehashing obvious gripes about influencers. The runtime drags slightly in the second half as the competition plot overstays its welcome. And while the emotional beats hit hard, the resolution’s predictability, Rookie finding her inner scare-queen, flirts with cliché. These are nitpicks, though, in a film that’s otherwise a riot of creativity and charm.

This film earns its Sinister Selection status because it’s a rare beast: a horror-comedy that’s as smart as it is silly, as bloody as it is heartfelt. Its originality lies in its afterlife bureaucracy and genre-savvy humor, setting it apart from Hollywood’s cookie-cutter spookfests. The acting ensemble elevates every scene, with Wang and Pinna delivering performances that linger like a good ghost story. Hsu’s direction is confident, blending slapstick with satire in a way that feels effortless. The cinematography and horror elements, while not revolutionary, serve the story perfectly, and the thematic depth, exploring what it means to be “seen”, gives it unexpected weight. It’s a crowd-pleaser that respects its audience’s intelligence and love for the genre.

TL;DR: Dead Talents Society is a laugh-out-loud horror-comedy that skewers influencer culture while tugging at your heartstrings. John Hsu crafts a ghostly world that’s as inventive as it is absurd, with a cast that brings the undead to vibrant life. Minor missteps don’t dim its shine, this is a must-see for horror fans who like their scares with a side of soul.

Recommended for: Anyone who’s ever felt like a nobody but dreamed of haunting the shit out of their haters.
Not recommended for: Influencers who think jump-scare TikToks are high art.