‘Until Dawn’ Review: Sandberg Offers a Familiar Yet Entertaining Horror Experience

In a cabin nestled deep in a snowy wilderness, a group of friends find themselves stalked by something — perhaps multiple somethings — lurking behind the trees. If this sounds familiar, it’s probably because it is. Adapted from the popular 2015 video game of the same name, David Sandberg’s “Until Dawn” is anchored by an ensemble cast that introduces a standalone story and a new set of characters. Sandberg, also the director of “Lights Out” (2016) and “Annabelle: Creation” (2017), trades player interactivity for a narrative built around genre conventions and a time-loop storyline that endeavors to surprise viewers at every turn. The result is a movie that succeeds in entertaining through its ambitious, if sometimes disjointed, experimentation.

The story follows Clover Paul (Ella Rubin), who — a year after her sister Melanie’s (Maia Mitchell) mysterious disappearance — embarks on a journey with friends Max (Michael Cimino), Nina Riley (Odessa A’zion), Abe (Belmont Cameli), and Megan (Ji-young Yoo) to the remote valley where Melanie vanished. Once they’re there, tensions arise as buried secrets surface and the group begins experiencing terrifying events that hint at darker underlying forces. As the night progresses, the group becomes increasingly desperate to uncover the truth, realizing that their survival hinges on confronting the past directly.

“Until Dawn” engages in the relatively popular narrative device of the repeating temporal loop in slashers like “The Final Girls” (2015) and “Happy Death Day” (2017), but this structural choice allows Sandberg considerable creative freedom, jumping between masked killers, supernatural phenomena, and creature horror. Cinematographer Maxime Alexandre crafts visually arresting sequences that capitalize on the simultaneous beauty and menace of wintry landscapes, effectively amplifying the film’s tension and sense of isolation.

Yet the creative adaptation of this structure also poses challenges. The repetitive nature inherent to the loop quickly risks monotony. Each reset introduces variations meant to deepen mystery and maintain intrigue, but the constant cycling can exhaust the viewer’s patience, diminishing the stakes as the characters repeatedly face danger. Moreover, the narrative struggles to build sustained emotional resonance, often prioritizing shocks and plot twists over genuine character development.

Despite these narrative challenges, several sequences shine, with clever nods to the film’s video game origins. One particularly effective scene involves Clover’s nerve-wracking attempt to remain absolutely still to evade detection — directly echoing the game’s iconic gameplay mechanic. Indeed, such easter eggs honor the source material in meaningful ways that may resonate strongly with existing fans while remaining accessible to newcomers.

Sandberg adeptly leverages practical effects throughout the film, lending visceral immediacy to its horror elements. The wendigos, depicted through a commendable combination of prosthetics and lighting, evoke genuine dread without relying excessively on CGI. This tactile approach heightens suspense, grounding the film’s otherwise fantastical events in a believable reality.

However, not every experiment lands as gracefully. The film occasionally awkwardly navigates comedic elements that sometimes undermine tension rather than complement it. Similarly, attempts at incorporating Indigenous mythological elements drawn from the original game can feel superficial and underdeveloped. The narrative hints at cultural depth but never fully realizes these implications, marking a missed opportunity for meaningful engagement or critique.

Dr. Alan Hill (Peter Storemare), a psychiatrist whose ambiguous commentary punctuates the film, provides meta-textual insight into the unfolding chaos. While Storemare’s performance effectively bridges the film and its source, the character’s enigmatic nature may present confusion for viewers who are unfamiliar with the original game, highlighting occasional gaps between fan service and general accessibility.

Ultimately, Sandberg’s “Until Dawn” is a film committed to experimentation within familiar territory to offer a novel take on a popular game. While not entirely successful in balancing its ambitious narrative aims with emotional depth, the film nevertheless provides a satisfying and visually engaging experience. For those intrigued by a playful, genre-savvy horror that embraces both homage and innovation, “Until Dawn” provides itself worthy of a watch, even if its ambitions occasionally outpace its execution.

—Staff writer Lydia H. Fraser can be reached at lydia.fraser@thecrimson.com.