Reviews
‘The Boogeyman’ Review – A Familiar Grief Metaphor Delivers on Potent Scares
The Boogeyman, directed by Rob Savage (Host) with a screenplay by Scott Beck & Bryan Woods (A Quiet Place, 65) and Mark Heyman (Black Swan), draws from Stephen King‘s 1973 short story of the same title. Rather than presenting a straightforward adaptation of King’s text, however, The Boogeyman uses its narrative as the film’s inciting event, acting as a spiritual sequel. While it never expands the mythology or story in any substantial way, this film adaptation is offset by Savage’s steadfast commitment to scares and a tremendous cast.
Sixteen-year-old Sadie (Sophie Thatcher) and her 10-year-old sister, Sawyer (Vivien Lyra Blair), struggle in the wake of their mother’s unexpected passing. That their father, therapist Will Harper (Chris Messina), seems emotionally closed off in his grief doesn’t help. The fractured family bonds grow even more precarious when a volatile new patient, Lester Billings (David Dastmalchian), unexpectedly arrives at Will’s home office asking for aid.
Letting him inside brings a world of horror as Lester leaves behind a malevolent presence eager to prey upon the Harper children.
(L-R): Sophie Thatcher as Sadie Harper and Vivien Lyra Blair as Sawyer Harper in 20th Century Studios’ THE BOOGEYMAN. Photo by Patti Perret. © 2023 20th Century Studios. All Rights Reserved.
One shocking opener pushes the PG-13 rating straightaway, driving Lester into the melancholic Harper household. Dastmalchian’s reliably captivating and emotional performance lays the early groundwork for the encroaching supernatural terror with an unsettling depiction of a man drowning from guilt and grief. This introductory sequence catches viewers up to speed on King’s original story, altering its conclusion to transfer its monstrous devourer of trauma to a household marred by it. Grief is the sustaining emotion throughout, and Sadie feels it most keenly. On that front, character arcs remain mostly a straight line as the Harper family tries to navigate the figurative and literal monsters lurking in the dark. How they engage with the encroaching threat reflects their various ways of coping with grief, from Will’s denial to Sadie’s increasing anger.
Rob Savage demonstrates a continued knack for scare crafting throughout, bringing no shortage of terrifying moments, jump scares, and unsettling dread as the Boogeyman entrenches itself further into the dark recesses of the Harper house. Savage manages to wring a freshness from even the most familiar scares with his use of light as an opposing force to darkness.
Sophie Thatcher makes a tremendous effort to sustain the high level of Sadie’s unrelenting terror, sorrow, and desperation. Sadie’s motherly affection toward younger sister Sawyer presents the backbone, and Vivien Lyra Blair’s palpable fear and precociousness solidify the audience’s allegiances for the family straight away. A scene-stealing Marin Ireland enters the equation at the right moment to liven up Sadie’s quest to understand what’s happening in her house, heralding the film’s most visually impressive action-heavy sequence.
Marin Ireland as Rita Billings in 20th Century Studios’ THE BOOGEYMAN. Photo by Patti Perret. © 2023 20th Century Studios. All Rights Reserved.
From there, The Boogeyman struggles to bring a thematically light story to a satisfying conclusion. A frightening foe gets reduced to another grief trauma metaphor thanks to intentionally broad and vague mythology, and the climax’s shaky-cam approach makes it tough to discern what’s happening on screen. As thrilling as the horror can be, the oversimplified story doesn’t offer much beyond connective tissue for the frights.
If you’re only looking for an excuse to sleep with a night light on, The Boogeyman offers a plethora of well-executed scares that linger. Savage and the talented cast take these characters with a severe seriousness that makes for an overly somber affair packed with goosebump-inducing chills. It’s the scares that audiences will remember most, though, as the barebones setup doesn’t build upon its core concept or forge new ground. Savage nails the fear, but the filmmaker also succeeds a little too well in making his titular monster a vague avatar for viewers to graft their personal fears onto; the effective build-up culminates in a potent but generic nightmare.
The Boogeyman releases in theaters on June 2, 2023.
Movies
‘Recluse’ Review – Harrowing Haunted House Horror With Lots Of Skeletons In Its Closet [Tribeca 2026]
A haunted house story is tense, terrifying storytelling when it’s properly executed. There’s been a growing tendency in horror to blend together harrowing haunted house stories with traumatic homecomings. A family member’s illness or death triggers a return to something dark that was intentionally left behind. Recluse hits all the tropes that one expects to find in this type of horror film, yet it manages to push this story in a daring, disturbing new direction that uses sound as a superpower.
It’s a unique lens to experience a familiar story about family secrets, generational trauma, unresolved grief, and the importance of not just legacy, but preservation. It’s a hell of a directorial debut from Henry Chaisson that’s guaranteed to get under the audience’s skin as they’re dragged through this painful, toxic tale.
Recluse is a gothic haunted house story where an isolated audio engineer, Joan (Sasha Frolova), returns to her family’s estate to check in on her father after he suffers a terrible accident. Joan suddenly discovers something much more sinister that paints her family’s tragedies in a very different light. Chaisson’s debut functions as a fascinating companion piece to this year’s undertone, which does a lot of the same things.
These two films make for a fascinating case of parallel thinking that tackles comparable subject matter through a similar lens, albeit in a bigger, less claustrophobic story in Recluse’s case. In fact, it’s the perfect horror film for anyone who was let down by undertone and didn’t feel like it brought enough to the table. It’s a considerably more conventional horror film, but this isn’t meant to denigrate its high quality. Recluse may hit some familiar notes, but it’s a scary, well-crafted haunted house horror story that goes for the jugular.
A gripping mystery that involves the tragic, unresolved circumstances that surround Joan’s mother teases a chilling connection to the recent horrors that have afflicted her father. Joan desperately tries to put these pieces together and give her family some sense of grander peace before she’s pulled under and becomes another victim of this festering curse that’s systematically worked its way through the Wyatt family. By doing so, Recluse digs into some deeper commentary on collective trauma, a very literal look at the “sins of the father” adage, and how one selfish decision can ripple through generations and fracture off into different dilemmas. By the end, Recluse has brilliantly flipped the powerful concept of legacy on its head by illustrating the horrors and sense of entitlement that can be born out of this idea.
A legacy is just another name for a curse under the right context.
”Listen” is a simple but powerful command from Joan’s father that she briefly obsesses over. In a way, it becomes Recluse’s grander mission statement, whether it’s in response to Joan listening to the people in her life, the signals that her body and mind are telling her, or the world’s greater whims. It’s important to reconnect with these grounding pillars, especially when it feels like control is slipping away.
Recluse excels with how audio and soundscapes can create entire universes that are full of rich details that transport individuals to these environments. There’s also a level of objectivity when it comes to audio recordings and the evergreen permanence that they’re able to provide. Joan’s career as an audio engineer makes sense for someone who wants to cling to hard evidence and proof of existence. It provides great insight into Joan without ever getting lost in contrived exposition.
Joan’s entire life is built around audio engineering, and so it makes sense that Recluse features excellent sound design that really goes above and beyond with its production elements. All of the sound design is expertly handled and turns the film into something special. These auditory elements intuitively keep the audience on edge so that they’re more susceptible to the actual scares that eventually strike. The smallest sound effect gets turned into a crushing, cacophonous assault. It’s a really effective way to build terror. Writer/Director Chaisson also handles the film’s music, which achieves a sublime, unnerving dissonance that further heightens the free-floating anxiety.
The story at the center of Recluse is slightly generic in some respects, but the film’s visual language and tone make it feel distinctly memorable. It also doesn’t hurt that the home that Joan returns to is basically an eerie art studio that’s full of contorted paintings. Recluse never struggles to generate mounting dread and terror that pump through every scene. Powerful, thoughtful cinematography consistently reinforces the film’s themes. Joan is constantly reflected in different surfaces or viewed through mirrors. She’s also often confined to tight, constricting framing that all speaks to her refracted identity during this moment of loss and her attempts to regain agency and control by making sense of something that’s seemingly unexplainable.
Recluse is full of truly disturbing visuals that make it seem like Joan is lost in a dream that turns out to be an extended nightmare. It’s a surreal journey reminiscent of invasive psychological horror like Silent Hill, with a touch of Sinister and Hereditary thrown in for good measure. There are so many individual frames that could endlessly fuel urban legends and creepypastas.
It does a great job with how it presents Joan’s fragile state of mind, where chilling flashes of the past sneak up on her and unresolved trauma manifests into unsettling imagery. There are endless shots that are obscured in darkness, or shadow is creeping in from the corners of frames like a suffocating force of nature. It’s very rare that a scene is fully lit. It leads to a very lonely, isolating atmosphere that’s easy to get lost in.
Chaisson’s debut stands out from the many other high-minded haunted house horror films without succumbing to the same pretensions that often drag down these stories. It’s a grief-stricken character study that’s full of upsetting visuals that scratch at something visceral and raw. The horror elements connect, and the answers to its grander mystery provide an appropriate and believable sense of closure. Those who are looking for an atmospheric horror film that isn’t afraid to be different while still channeling something real will appreciate Recluse.
Recluse made its world premiere at Tribeca; release info TBD.
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