A group of twenty-somethings have rented a "literal" mansion (I wish writers would find out what that word means and use it properly!) and are having a few fireside beers outside it whilst subjecting us to their dull relationship issues. Needless to say the gang are a politically correct assemblage that tick just about every box and are frankly all pretty well deserving of what's to come. On that front, the clue's in the title. Exploring the house looking to top up their supply of booze, they find a locked room full of all things occult and that includes an unique set of tarot cards. Rather foolishly, but typically disparagingly, they demand that "Haley" (Harriet Slater) read their fortunes. Next thing they are dropping like flies - all in a manner they gradually realise is akin to the results of the tarot reading. As they gruesomely dwindle, they realise that they are going to need some help and so thanks to Google spook, they find a woman (Olwen Fouéré) who informs them of the bleak history of their toxic tarot and tells them that the cards' destruction might be their only road to salvation. Thing is, can they survive long enough to get back to the house? There's nothing at all original here, sorry. We've seen it loads of times before and the uninteresting dynamic between the characters is even more predictable than the denouement. To be fair, the candle-lit visual effects are quite effective at times, but the acting is pretty dreadful and the whole frat-like presentation left me looking at the clock after half an hour. It's a shame. The whole astrology and mythology surrounding the tarot could have offered us a rich vein to tap into and exploit, but here we simply get a rather lazy and formulaic light-horror enterprise that's really devoid of much imagination. Literally.