From the opening scene of writer/director Felipe Vargas’ Hive, it’s clear that something is wrong in the white, affluent suburb of Coral Grove. The Tubi original opens with a racialized nanny stumbling through the streets, pleading for help and bleeding from the head, before she’s bludgeoned and spun (seemingly to death) on a merry-go-round.
Matched with disorienting camerawork from cinematographer Carmen Cabana and alternately squelchy and roaring sound effects on the soundtrack, the opening is both a standard horror movie cold open and deeply emblematic of Hive as a whole. The narrative messaging is deeply influenced by class and race, while the technical elements are playful and high energy.
The film’s protagonist is Sasha (Xochitl Gomez), a low-income girl with aspirations of living in an affluent gated community like Coral Grove. It’s her first day working as a nanny to a rich, entitled brat named Zaley (Victoria Firsova), whose mother Camille (Tanya van Graan) is the kind of stereotype who condescendingly refers to Sasha as “sweetpea” while fretting about the dangers of consuming sugar or playing with other kids.
Sasha puts on a brave face through all of this ridiculousness because she needs the money and a reference to a prestigious school. As her landscaper brother Marco (Aaron Dominguez) reminds Sasha, “We need this gig.” The money is tied to their livelihood, and it’s clear from an early call with her father that this job is an opportunity to help not just Sasha and her family, but also to ensure a future that extends beyond domestic labor.

Naturally, the conflict is that Coral Grove hides a nefarious secret (though, to be clear, it’s not exactly a Get Out situation). While the people are definitely part of the problem, the children are under the influence of something living beneath the ground that is fond of gobbling people up. And since people don’t miss nannies, housekeepers, and landscapers because they’re typically people of colour, Sasha and Marco are next on the hit list.
The commentary in Hive isn’t subtle, and it does tend to belabor the point a few too many times, particularly in the film’s last act, but that’s mostly forgiven because – despite its dark racial implications – it’s a surprisingly fun time. The majority of the film takes place around colorful playground equipment, weaponizing familiar items like swings, merry-go-rounds, kiddie pools, and slides in a variety of set pieces.
Sasha, Marco, and Marco’s co-worker Darius (Thulani Nzonzo) learn from the film’s harbinger, housekeeper Frances (Zenobia Kloppers), that Coral Grove has been infected by a creature that uses these items as traps. Unsuspecting targets are lured in, usually by infected children, and then swallowed up into a subterranean world that looks like a combination of construction site and abandoned children’s playroom.

Considering this is a relatively small film, Hive has a lot going for it with regard to sound, production design, and make-up. The camera is constantly on the prowl, which ensures that even in the more sedate interior scenes, it feels as if Sasha and the others are being stalked. Sound mixer Derek Mansvelt rachets up the tension by accentuating the sounds of the playground, along with hungry rumblings and angry roars from the entity, particularly as Sasha, Marco, and (eventually) Frances discover ways to fight back.
The bright visual aesthetic of the playground, including the ball pit in Zaley’s backyard, is sharply contrasted by the world below. For example, Hive gets plenty of mileage by turning the interior of a slide into a threatening tarp with laughing, chanting children lurking around the bend.

It doesn’t hurt that the action sequences tend to involve a horde of infected individuals. Since the creature itself is never visually seen, Vargas’ screenplay wisely uses the Coral Grove residents as a stand-in. Sasha and Marco routinely find themselves surrounded by a circle of children who move and chant in unison. They’re not acting of their own volition, though; as Frances will explain later, they’re in a kind of spell, snapping to command before violent outbursts; then they’re released, bewildered, and none the wiser about the horrors that they’ve committed.
These moments, with their child-like rhymes mocking victims, herky-jerky motions, and acrobatic feats (expect back bends aplenty!), effectively toe the line between threatening, silly, and exciting. There’s something delightfully Goosebumps-y about Hive that makes it feel both familiar and distinct, so even though the film sometimes pulls its punches when it comes to stakes or leans too heavily into obvious messaging, it’s still a fun time.
Tubi originals can be a little inconsistent, but thanks to its candy-colored production design, evocative sound design, grotesque scabby yellow make-up, and prowling camerawork, Hive is a solid watch.
Hive is now streaming on Tubi.

