There Are No Saints

The film clunks on, acted with no flair or charisma by anyone in the cast and no energy or interest in the direction.

“There Are No Saints” is like a ghost film, drifting in from the past to our present — still haunting in its way, but hazy about its mission.

It can be difficult to take genre movies that are this clichéd seriously, and doubly so when they insist on regurgitating tropes in a humorless register.

At its best, Alfonso Pineda Ulloa’s film gleefully embodies the grungy spirit of classic exploitation cinema.

There may be no saints, but there are definitely enough people who had nothing better to do.

It's a gross film that has no place for any saints.

Like a low-budget, cut-rate version of a John Wick movie.

There Are No Saints is trying to be the good kind of trash we don’t get enough of, but instead fails to be competent enough, and has such a vile disposition that it settles on being the bad kind of trash.

Schrader and director Alfredo Pineda Ulloa are mostly interested in seeing just how bleak they can make this entire affair.


I’d rather eat a baseball than have to sit through There Are No Saints ever again.