Final Destination: Bloodlines proves that in this franchise, death doesn’t just come for you—it sticks the landing.
★★★★
Let’s get one thing clear: I love the Final Destination series. Even at its most uneven, there’s something irresistible about the grim ingenuity of its death sequences, the Rube Goldberg sadism, and that lurking sense of inevitability. Only The Final Destination (#4) truly stumbles—it’s cheap-looking, flatly directed, and leans too hard on clunky 3D gimmicks. But the others? Solid gold. FD2 had the best opening set-piece. FD3 had the most memorably cruel main-event kills. And now, with Bloodlines, the franchise has not only returned—it’s raised the bar.
The opening disaster is everything it needs to be: spectacular, gnarly, and perfectly staged. A great Final Destination lives or dies by its opener—and this one absolutely slays. It’s stylish, nasty, and carefully stages the dominoes of death to maximum squirm-inducing effect. In a franchise where the first disaster often defines the film’s legacy, Bloodlines sets itself apart early as a serious contender.
What’s always made this series distinctive is the way it delivers death scenes structured like punchlines—tight setups, brutal payoffs, and a grim sense of timing that toys with audience expectation. These films are built like horror cartoons, full of ticklish misdirection and slowly tightening suspense. But at their core, they’re haunted by something colder and truer: the inevitability of death. You laugh, you wince, and then you remember—there’s no escaping what’s coming. It’s the laughter of the grave.
What follows dips slightly, as the film eases into more contemporary rhythms. Our new lead, Stefani Reyes (Kaitlyn Santa Juana), begins to uncover a pattern of inherited doom that traces back to her grandmother’s connection to that decades-old disaster. This is where Bloodlines toys with its new twist: death no longer just stalks survivors—it haunts bloodlines. Cue the generational trauma metaphor, now a standard feature in post-Hereditary horror cinema. It’s competently done but feels familiar, and the middle third of the film suffers slightly under the weight of exposition and family backstory.
Thankfully, the kills return—and they’re strong. A hospital sequence and a tattoo parlour scene stand out as highlights, both for their tension and grotesque payoff. Lipovsky and Stein know how to drag out suspense, teasing multiple potential death triggers before springing the trap. It’s that signature Final Destination rhythm: a slow, teasing build of dread, followed by a brutal release. And while it’s always gruesome, it’s also theatrical—darkly funny in its inevitability. These scenes are as much about performance as plot, like watching Death run a tightly choreographed routine. The horror lands because the audience is in on the game, even as the outcome never changes.
The direction is slick and confident throughout. There’s a stronger sense of visual style than we’ve seen in recent entries, and the film balances camp and suspense with a surer hand than expected. A few of the CGI flourishes wobble, but nothing egregious—it never undermines the tension or spectacle. The cast does solid work with what they’re given, especially Santa Juana, who gives the film its emotional centre without bogging it down.
There’s also the matter of William Bludworth—Tony Todd’s mortician returns one final time, and the film handles his swan song with just the right amount of reverence. He gives us that quiet, ominous presence that’s been part of the franchise’s eerie charm since the beginning – and a beautiful payoff monologue written by the man himself, and delivered as his final message to his audience.
Elsewhere, Bloodlines puts some effort into its characterisation, but it’s largely there to justify the carnage. Still, that’s part of the DNA of Final Destination movies. These aren’t films you watch for Oscar-worthy arcs—they’re about dread, design, and death as a cosmic engine. In that regard, Bloodlines delivers. It doesn’t mess around: this is death’s show, and the film lets it run wild. It doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but it spins it faster and sharper than ever before.
For longtime fans, this is the entry you’ve been waiting for. For newcomers, it’s a surprisingly strong jumping-on point. Either way, Final Destination: Bloodlines earns its place at the top. The series has a new champion—and its scythe is as sharp as ever.
In cinemas from today
Whitlock&Pope 