While the plotting in “Part Two” is undeniably richer than the first film, its greatest assets are once again on a craft level. Greig Fraser, who won the Oscar for cinematography the first time, tops his work there with stunning use of color and light. It’s in the manner the sun hits Chalamet’s face at a certain angle or the wildly different palettes that differentiate the Harkonnens and the Fremen. The browns and blues of the desert culture don’t feel arid as much as grounded and tactile, while the Harkonnen world is so devoid of color that it’s often literally black and white—even what look like fireworks pop like someone throwing colorless paint at a wall. Hans Zimmer’s Oscar-winning score felt a bit overdone to me in the first film, but he smartly differentiates the cultures here, finding more metallic sounds for the cold Harkonnens to balance against the heated score for the Fremen. Finally, the effects and sound design feel denser this time, and the fight choreography reminds one how poorly this has been done in other blockbuster films.

The 1989 blockbuster “Road House” was something of a pastiche. It delivered disreputable B-picture thrills with big-picture production value. The lead actor Patrick Swayze, playing a philosophizing roughneck, smirked with unshakable confidence while breaking arms and jaws, as cars and buildings blew up real good around him. The action was served up with glossy studio polish.

Taking on Swayze’s role, Jake Gyllenhaal plays the pro fighter turned bouncer Elwood Dalton, here protecting a juke joint that sits on a valuable piece of real estate in the Florida Keys. At his most winning despite his character’s lethal nature, Gyllenhaal keeps up the one-liners and drollery. In lieu of Swayze’s Zenlike musings, he gives us dry inquiries about whether his challengers have medical insurance before pummeling and delivering them to a hospital.

This movie delivers a lot of the same kicks as the first, but with contemporary tuneups like a villain played by Conor McGregor, the Ultimate Fighting Championship star who’s first seen stark naked, except for shoes and socks (so he can carry his phone). Though two hours long, the movie moves as swiftly as a greased ferret through a Habitrail and delivers hallucinatory action highs for its extended climax.

Horror enthusiasts frequently seek films that promise an intriguing premise, spine-tingling suspense, and characters whose fates you’re compelled to care about. Thomas Walton‘s Camp Pleasant Lake aims to check these boxes but falls dramatically short in its execution, making for a murky cinematic plunge that leaves viewers more befuddled than frightened. A gripping horror story initially sounds like it could be rooted in the reopening of an old campsite, which has a narrative drenched in a dark, unresolved past. Yet, what ensues is a convoluted plot that is as stagnant as the titular lake’s waters.

Camp Pleasant Lake is a film that teases the possibility of horror but fails to deliver. Mostly on the suspense, character development, and narrative cohesion fronts. The movie falls short of its potential due to ambitious but incomplete execution. It’s advisable to skip this visit to Camp Pleasant Lake and set their sights on clearer, more chilling waters.