Thanksgiving 2: The Return of the Feathered Fiend
After years of whispers and cult speculation, Thanksgiving 2 has finally clawed its way out of cinematic oblivion. Billed as the true sequel to the blood-soaked horror comedy ThanksKilling, this film resurrects the foul-mouthed, bloodthirsty turkey that horror fans never forgot—even if they tried.
Directed by a new voice in genre satire, Thanksgiving 2 embraces the absurd legacy of the original while delivering a sharper, even more outrageous story. This time, the killer turkey is not just hunting horny teens or pilgrims. He’s after the very idea of Thanksgiving itself, and he’s got a vengeance that crosses dimensions, time, and taste.
The film opens in the year 2025, where a peaceful small town is preparing for its annual Thanksgiving celebration. But when a cursed artifact—an ancient, drumstick-shaped amulet—is uncovered beneath the town hall, it unleashes a force the pilgrims once locked away with stuffing and holy gravy. That force is Turkie, back from cinematic limbo, angrier and more foul than ever.
What follows is a chaotic, gleefully gory rampage. Turkie uses everything from telepathy to time travel, hunting down descendants of the original pilgrims, roasting their brains and their traditions with equal passion. But this time, he is faced with an unexpected challenge—a group of misfit teens and a conspiracy theorist dinner-theater actor who claims to be the "Turkey Whisperer."
Filled with practical effects, over-the-top kills, and lines so bad they loop back around to genius, Thanksgiving 2 never tries to be serious. It knows what it is: a celebration of camp, chaos, and cranberry sauce sprayed across cabin walls.
Beneath the feathers and fake blood, there is a sharp satire at play—mocking everything from reboots and sequels to America’s uneasy relationship with its own holidays. It is bold, tasteless, and oddly clever.
For fans of cult horror, Thanksgiving 2 is a feast. It offers dismemberment with a side of laughter, and leaves no tradition unskewered. If you thought it was safe to go back to the dinner table—you were wrong.
This bird is back. And he brought pie.
