Don't you hate it when you wake up after being bludgeoned to death by a masked murderer, only to have to go through the same thing again? Eat, sleep, die, repeat.
This killer time loop is the fate awaiting Clover and her friends on a road trip to find closure following her sister's disappearance a year ago. The only way to escape this never-ending nightmare is to survive… you guessed it… Until Dawn!
Adapting a video game for the big screen has always been a double-edged sword, particularly within the horror sub-genre. Just look at the various iterations of Resident Evil and Silent Hill, for example.
Stay too close to the source material, it may result in an impenetrable experience for general audiences. Deviate from what made it popular, and you risk alienating the fans.
Director David F. Sandberg accepted the daunting challenge of filming an adaptation of the 2014 PlayStation game and has plenty of experience within the genre thanks to Lights Out and Annabelle: Creation. So no matter how faithful it is to the original game (spoiler – it isn't), the ultimate litmus test is whether or not he has crafted a more frightening cinematic experience than an usher going in to clean up after a “Chicken Jockey” screening of A Minecraft Movie.
Until Dawn‘s main hook is the time loop the characters are stuck in. It is a novel way to replicate the sense of having to start the game over whenever you die playing it.
However, the Groundhog Day-esque narrative device is not new within the horror genre. For example, Triangle, Timecrimes, and most recently (and famously) Happy Death Day and its sequel.
The characters even reference that the time loop is “like that movie” and that “everyone is doing it now” – dialogue designed to acknowledge the overuse of the trope; but if you use it, you need to do it better than everyone else to stand out.
The short answer is… it doesn't.
Over-reliant on the gimmick, the movie is built on a weak screenplay. No real focus on world-building until it's rushed through in the final act, and the main cast are stuck with paper-thin, one-dimensional characters (plucky survivor, best friend, disposable outsider, ditzy psychic, and love-lorn ex). One would think that each new night that greets them would allow for a degree of character development, but sadly not.
The only one having any real fun is the ever-dependable Peter Stormare, reprising his role from the video game.
To the Until Dawn‘s credit, the kills (of which there are many, thanks to the time loop) are executed (pardon the pun) to a suitably gruesome and gory level, thanks to a prevalence towards practical effects and make-up.
On the flip side, the numerous jump scares are more heavily choreographed than Lord of the Dance (which is more frightening). The various villainous monsters that spawn every iteration feel like leftovers from The Cabin In The Woods.
The original game was devised as a “love letter to horror movies.” This movie feels like a love letter written by ChatGPT. One devoid of any heart, soul or originality.
Until Dawn is in cinemas now
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