Did y’all enjoy the beginning of Scream, when Drew Barrymore is more or less hunted in her own home by a soon-to-be serial killer? If yes, add The R.I.P. Man to your watch list as the opening anxiety range turns up to maximum intensity.

Contrary to obvious presumptions, this R.I.P. stands for Rest in Pain, not peace. And as the killings blast off with magnified ferocity, the agony heightens to an extreme level once presented with blood spilling drilling and the crude collection of molars being seized. Painful, indeed.

A young woman getting ready to go out for the evening receives an ominous and anonymous text message that reads RIP Abigail. A moment of hesitation whisks through her mind before she writes it off as a prank and continues to primp herself for a night out. Unfortunately, the skulking killer has other plans for Abigail, as he pounces, chokes and stabs her before taking a prized momentum…a single tooth.

Days later, introductions are made to the deceased’s group of friends (including her boyfriend, Jaden who has been living under the microscope as the #1 person of interest), there is a more nonchalant mood than expected.

With the exception of boyfriend, Jaden.

He carries a melancholy tone with perfection while several vicious peers and even some friends prod him with doubt and contemption. Even so, that all falls apart as the remaining pals begin to receive their own private RIP text messages immediately before each one’s demise in various violent and hideous forms.

We know what this toothless madman looks like – that is never disguised from the audience, despite the branded RIP mouthpiece he dons through a shit-eating smile. The questions become who is he, and why is this happening?

The performances are satisfactory with my personal peak rising at the appearance of Martin Portlock’s brief presence. Though short and sweet, it was rewarding after some of the dryness felt amongst Abigail’s friends following her brutal death. I’ll chalk it up to a new generation of desensitized teens finding their footing in a digital world that lacks empathy. Cool?

As family secrets slowly unravel (maybe a little too slowly), the targeted intention erupts with ominous appeal. I can accept the simplicity behind the revealed motive but was unprepared for the emotional aspect of a serial killer’s determination. Not to say I had compassion for this menacing abomination, gosh no! But eventually, too many closeted skeletons will break down the door for all to see. It’s best to limit the number of bones you choose to hide…or build a bigger storage area.