Osiris – Film Review

In Osiris, a high-concept premise crashes under the weight of lifeless execution, threadbare characterization, and unconvincing visual effects. Written and directed by William Kaufman, the film assembles a promising cast led by Max Martini and Deadpool’s Brianna Hildebrand, with Linda Hamilton brought in for marquee appeal. Yet despite its interstellar setting and alien horror ambitions, Osiris never rises above generic, low-budget sci-fi mediocrity. What could have been an exhilarating genre romp instead lands as a sluggish, derivative slog through familiar territory, with little in the way of thrills, suspense, or emotional weight.

The film begins with a squad of Special Forces commandos—Kelly (Max Martini), Ravi (Brianna Hildebrand), Rhodie (LaMonica Garrett), and Reyes (Michael Irby)—on a high-stakes covert op in a remote location. Just as things get underway, they’re mysteriously abducted by a spacecraft. Upon waking up in a dim, industrial alien vessel, the squad realizes they’re being hunted by a terrifying, inhuman force. Survival becomes the mission, but internal tensions, personal demons, and unfamiliar technology threaten to doom them before the alien predators get the chance.

This setup has clear potential, calling to mind films like Predator, Alien, and even Cube in its contained horror-sci-fi premise. Unfortunately, Kaufman’s direction fails to deliver either the suspense or character investment that such films demand. Pacing is a major issue—what should be an escalating nightmare feels oddly mechanical and flat, with action scenes that are stilted and strangely devoid of tension. Moments that aim to be climactic simply stumble by, undercut by flat camerawork and limp choreography.

The heart of Osiris—if there’s one to be found—lies in its ensemble of military misfits. Max Martini plays Kelly, a stoic team leader haunted by past failures. Martini brings his usual grounded screen presence, but he’s saddled with dialogue so clichéd it borders on parody. Kelly is written like a cardboard cutout of every grizzled war hero ever seen in genre fiction, and he’s never given a fresh angle.

Brianna Hildebrand fares slightly better as Ravi, a younger soldier whose instincts and technological savvy make her a valuable asset to the group. Hildebrand at least brings some charisma to her role, but she’s trapped in a screenplay that never explores her character beyond surface-level competence. There’s a spark of a deeper backstory, but none of it is followed through in a meaningful way.

LaMonica Garrett and Michael Irby do what they can with their roles, but Rhodie and Reyes barely register beyond their assigned archetypes: one gruff and dependable, the other cocky and reckless. Banter between them is stale and predictable, and attempts at camaraderie feel forced. The group dynamics, which should form the emotional spine of the film, are undercooked and ineffective.

Perhaps the biggest disappointment in Osiris is the criminal underuse of Linda Hamilton, cast as the mysterious Anya. Hamilton, best known for her iconic role as Sarah Connor in the Terminator franchise, seems like an inspired choice—until it becomes clear that she has virtually nothing to do. Appearing sporadically in scenes that seem hastily written in post-production, she spends most of the film standing around in dim lighting, expositing vaguely about the aliens’ nature and purpose.

Not only is her character a narrative afterthought, but Hamilton herself looks palpably bored. Her delivery is flat, and her physical presence—so vital in her past action roles—is completely sidelined. Whether due to script limitations or disinterest, her performance feels like a paycheck role, and it’s frankly painful to watch such a fierce performer reduced to deadweight.

Osiris tries to do a lot with what appears to be a meager budget, and the seams show. The alien ship is shot in monotonous gray-blue lighting, with endless corridors and bland metallic textures that give no sense of place or scale. The creature design is passable in concept—sleek, insectoid hunters reminiscent of The Descent crossed with District 9—but they’re often cloaked in shadow or obscured by choppy editing, making their presence more frustrating than frightening.

The visual effects, especially when attempting to show spaceship interiors or tech interfaces, range from barely serviceable to downright amateurish. CGI overlays flicker unconvincingly, and digital set extensions are often poorly lit, drawing attention to the film’s production limitations.

Sound design also fails to compensate, with repetitive, low-rent score cues and uninspired use of ambient noise. Gunfire sounds flat and fake. The aliens’ screeches—meant to unnerve—become irritating rather than terrifying. For a film that’s ostensibly about survival horror in space, Osiris is shockingly devoid of atmosphere.

Beneath its action-thriller framework, Osiris occasionally gestures toward bigger ideas: the nature of war, human adaptability, the ethics of experimentation, and the psychological toll of violence. Yet none of these themes are ever seriously engaged. Characters talk about survival and mission priorities, but there’s no sense of evolution or change. By the end, no one has grown, learned, or even meaningfully suffered.

Even the central mystery of the alien abductors is handled with frustrating vagueness. Who are they? What do they want? Why this specific team? These questions are raised but never satisfyingly answered, making the climax—such as it is—feel both abrupt and underwhelming.

Osiris is a textbook example of squandered potential. It takes a familiar but promising genre premise and drains it of life through a script full of clichés, characters who never evolve, visuals that underwhelm, and performances that mostly feel checked out. Despite a few moments of fleeting tension and the efforts of a committed (if underutilized) cast, the film ultimately lands with a resounding thud.

For fans of low-budget sci-fi action, there are far better options—films like The Void, Beyond Skyline, or even Pandorum manage to inject style, originality, or at least compelling creature work into their limited resources. Osiris, by contrast, offers only dim corridors, hollow dialogue, and one of the most uninterested performances of Linda Hamilton’s career.

Disappointing, forgettable, and depressingly generic, Osiris proves that even outer space can feel like a creatively empty vacuum.