Time Cut

If you want to feel ancient, watch a movie where 2003 is treated with the same hushed, "long ago" reverence usually reserved for the Victorian era or the wild frontier. In Time Cut, the year of low-rise jeans, Avril Lavigne’s "Complicated," and the birth of the iTunes Store is presented as a neon-hued historical curiosity. It’s a world where flip phones are high-tech artifacts and everyone walks around looking like they just fell out of a Delia's catalog. I watched this while wearing a pair of sweatpants I bought in 2011, and realize that my loungewear is technically more "vintage" than the setting of this film, which sent me into a minor existential spiral before the first kill even happened.

Directed by Hannah Macpherson, Time Cut follows Lucy (Madison Bailey, whom you might recognize from the high-octane soap opera that is Outer Banks). Lucy is a science whiz living in the shadow of a sister she never met—Summer (Antonia Gentry), who was murdered by a masked killer back in 2003. When Lucy stumbles upon a time machine that looks suspiciously like a discarded prop from a 90s rave, she’s zipped back to the days of The O.C. and velour tracksuits. Her mission? Stop the "Sweetly Slasher" and save her sister, all while trying not to accidentally erase her own existence.

The Low-Rise Jeans Apocalypse

There is a specific kind of comfort-watch energy that Netflix has perfected, and Time Cut fits right into that cozy, slightly sanitized pocket. It’s produced by Christopher Landon, the mastermind behind Happy Death Day and Freaky, so the DNA of the "high-concept slasher" is everywhere. However, where Freaky leaned into the R-rated absurdity, Time Cut feels much more like a "Gateway Horror" film. It’s basically a Disney Channel Original Movie where people occasionally get stabbed.

The 2003 setting is the real star here. Tony Mirza’s cinematography leans into the bright, saturated colors of the early aughts, making the small town of Sweetly look like a perpetual Hollister advertisement. For those of us who actually lived through 2003, the nostalgia is a bit of a double-edged sword. Seeing a portable CD player treated like a mystical object is hilarious, but the film captures that pre-social media innocence well. The relationship between Lucy and Summer is the emotional anchor; Madison Bailey and Antonia Gentry have a natural chemistry that makes you actually care if they survive the night, which isn't always a given in this genre.

Slasher Logic vs. Quantum Mechanics

As a slasher, the film is... polite. If you’re looking for the creative, gore-soaked kills of the Scream franchise, you might be disappointed. The masked killer is a fairly standard-issue stalker who seems to have attended the Michael Myers School of Power Walking. The tension is light, and the "whodunnit" element isn't particularly difficult to solve if you’ve seen more than three movies in your life. The screenplay, co-written by Michael Kennedy (who also wrote Freaky), prioritizes the "what if" scenarios of time travel over the mechanics of fear.

The time travel logic is also best described as "don't worry about it." There are some fun nods to the butterfly effect, and Griffin Gluck shows up as Quinn, the requisite 2003 tech nerd who helps Lucy navigate the period. Quinn is the highlight of the supporting cast, bringing a dry wit that balances out the more melodramatic sister-bonding moments. One bit of trivia I found fascinating: Michael Kennedy has mentioned in interviews that he loves subverting these tropes, and while this is his "softest" entry into the genre, you can see his fingerprints in how the film handles the "outcast" characters. It’s a movie that clearly loves its losers.

The Streaming Era Vibe Check

In the current landscape of cinema, Time Cut represents a very specific trend: the "Algorithm Slasher." It feels tailor-made for a Friday night when you’re tired of scrolling and just want something that hits a familiar beat. It lacks the sharp, satirical edge of its cousin Totally Killer (the Prime Video time-travel slasher released a year prior), but it makes up for it with a genuine heart. It doesn't try to be an instant classic or a commentary on the "state of horror." It just wants to show you some cool outfits and give you a mild jump scare before the credits roll to an Avril Lavigne track.

The film does touch on some contemporary themes—mostly regarding Lucy’s sense of identity and the pressure of living up to a "perfect" dead sibling—but it never gets bogged down in them. It’s a film about the now looking at the then through a very flattering filter. For a contemporary audience, especially Gen Z viewers who are currently obsessed with Y2K fashion, this is peak aesthetic. For the rest of us, it's a breezy, slightly thin, but ultimately charming diversion.

Time Cut is the cinematic equivalent of a flavored latte: sweet, familiar, and gone the second you finish it. It doesn't reinvent the slasher or the time-travel movie, but it provides a polished enough ride for anyone who misses the days when the biggest threat to society was a "low battery" warning on a Nokia. If you’ve got 90 minutes to kill and a soft spot for 2000s pop-rock, you could certainly do worse, but don't expect it to haunt your dreams. It's more of a mall-walk than a nightmare.