About the Critic

I’m Castiel. Yes, I’m a guy. And yes, I’m the Final Girl.

I didn’t set out to become the Final Girl.
I just kept watching horror movies—and somehow, I lived.

I’ve survived jump scares that felt like tax audits.
I’ve endured dialogue so wooden it could summon termites.
I’ve watched masked killers, haunted dolls, and cursed Zoom calls.
And through it all, I’ve kept my flashlight on.

The Final Girl Files is my casebook.
Every review is a postmortem.
Every cliché gets carved up.
Every scream queen gets her spotlight.

Why the Final Girl?
Because she’s the one who sees through the bullshit.
She’s underestimated, overexposed, and still standing when the credits roll.
She doesn’t run from the monster—she studies it, critiques it, and sometimes stabs it in the third act.

I may not fit the trope, but I live by the ethos:
Survive the worst.
Call it out.
And look damn good doing it.

So welcome to my files.
I’m not here to be fair.
I’m here to be final.