Wonders never cease when one outruns becoming deceased: Grim gamification, the stuff of snuff and the brackets of kicking the bucket collide in Zach Lipovsky and Adam Stein’s supernatural horror film Final Destination Bloodlines (B-). The jaw-dropping extended introductory sequence, set atop a high-rise restaurant tower in the ‘60s where uneasy group revelry on a glass dance floor sets the stage for suspense, is so stunningly spectacular that the rest of the movie suffers in comparison. The Rube Goldberg style machinations of this opening salvo present the ultimate premonition in a film series known for fractious fortune telling. The movie soon settles into something more routine; but even in its episodic format, it’s a hoot of a horror. The movie’s modern-day Final Girl, winningly portrayed by Kaitlyn Santa Juana, is a student suffering violent recurring nightmares, tracking down the one person capable of breaking the cycle of death and saving her family from the grisly demise that inevitably awaits them all. Most of the ensemble is not especially memorable as they face the existential watch list predicting their own expirations; the high concept eclipses the distinction or power of any individual performances. The creepy sound effects, on-the-nose needle drops and cartoonishly gruesome kills arrive like crafty and sometimes darkly comedic clockwork. The film slyly showcases a sordid and sometimes surprising scorecard. It isn’t particularly scary but is tense when it counts.