The director, whose ultraviolent, viscerally gory High Tension stands as one of the most notorious films in the infamous New French Extremity canon, has a maximalist style, a sort of throw-everything-at-the-wall-and-hope-something-sticks approach that yields twice as many miscues for every moment of batshit brilliance. Chaotic as they are, his films, particularly his American exploitation riffs (The Hills Have Eyes, Piranha 3D), take a serious, if perfunctory, approach to matters of myth and iconography in genre cinema. His latest effort, the supernatural black comedy Horns, applies this approach to no less weighty a topic than Western religion — but despite the more serious subject, the results are characteristically outrageous.