An indie horror flick that debuted at the Fantasia Festival last year and made the rounds at a number of genre fests, the suburban-set Under the Bed unfolds with a nuance and relative level of sophistication that belies its generic title, before eventually succumbing to a haphazard, poorly explained explosion of gore at the hands of a nasty creature hell-bent on terrorizing a pair of brothers. Directed by Steven C. Miller, the movie is for much of its running time quite engaging, and plugged into a sense of clammy unease, but unfortunately pays off its story in familiar, uninteresting ways.
Eric Stolze’s script scores early points for the manner in which it nibbles around the edges of something darker, drawing a viewer in by hinting at reasons for this and that. It’s invested in all the human relationships to a heartening degree, and the film’s good performances (particularly Chasing Mavericks‘ Jonny Weston and young Gattlin Griffith, who have a very good rapport) are aided by heightened arguments (“You don’t get chances, you earn them!”) that really feel like honest extensions of legitimate parental frustration rather than telegraphed, plot-point conflict.
But somewhere in its second act the wheels pretty much come off for Under the Bed, and the less-is-more approach eventually yields to a more-is-more tack, wherein characters indiscriminately start getting their necks snapped and heads popped off, seemingly if for no other reason than to showcase the movie’s effects budget. Composer Ryan Dodson’s obliges these yawning instincts, bending from intriguing moodiness to conventionally clamorous aural declaration. And Miller’s direction, heretofore so artfully restrained, sags to indulge in flat, schlocky stagings of typical horror mayhem. In the end, Under the Bed doesn’t pay off its set-up in deeply rewarding fashion. Still, it confirms a certain talent in Miller and his cast, when they’re given shaded, interesting material with which to work. For the full, original review, from ShockYa, click here. (XLrator Media, R, 86 minutes)