The Dead Thing – Film Review

In his directorial debut, The Dead Thing, Elric Kane attempts to weave a slow-burn supernatural horror story into a psychological thriller with themes of obsession, love, and the unknown. Despite its intriguing premise and an atmospheric setup, the film ultimately suffers from sluggish pacing, underdeveloped character arcs, and a lack of narrative cohesion. While Blu Hunt delivers a committed performance as the film’s protagonist, The Dead Thing struggles to find its footing, resulting in a frustratingly underwhelming experience.

The story follows Alex (Blu Hunt), a young woman who, after an uninspired streak of failed dates, finds herself unexpectedly charmed by Kyle (Ben Smith-Petersen), a quiet but alluring barista. Their chemistry is palpable, and their first meeting crackles with an eerie sense of mystery and anticipation. However, after their date, Kyle vanishes without a trace. Confused and concerned, Alex becomes obsessed with uncovering what happened to him, leading her down a dark and unsettling path filled with bizarre encounters, cryptic messages, and hints at something far more sinister than a simple disappearance.

The premise is undeniably engaging. A mysterious vanishing, an obsessive search for answers, and a gradual descent into horror—these are the building blocks of a gripping psychological thriller. Unfortunately, The Dead Thing fails to capitalize on the tension and dread that such a story demands. Instead, the film meanders through its runtime, with much of Alex’s investigation feeling aimless and repetitious, rather than taut and suspenseful.

Blu Hunt, best known for her role in The New Mutants, delivers an intense performance as Alex, imbuing her character with a mix of vulnerability and tenacity. She convincingly portrays a woman unraveling as her obsession with Kyle’s disappearance deepens. Her facial expressions and physicality convey an unease that the script fails to fully support. Despite the film’s flaws, Hunt’s performance remains one of the few redeeming elements.

Ben Smith-Petersen’s portrayal of Kyle is serviceable, but the character itself is underwritten. His limited screen time and cryptic presence are meant to add to the mystery, but his performance lacks the necessary intrigue to leave a lasting impact. Rather than feeling like an enigma worth pursuing, Kyle comes across as a blank slate—an unfortunate shortcoming given that the entire narrative hinges on Alex’s emotional investment in him.

The supporting cast, including Katherine Hughes, John Karna, and Joey Millin, are largely wasted in roles that feel inconsequential. Some of these actors offer some moments of intrigue, but their limited development renders them forgettable.

Elric Kane’s background in horror podcasts and film criticism is evident in his meticulous attention to atmosphere. The Dead Thing boasts a striking visual style, with dimly lit interiors, neon-drenched cityscapes, and slow, creeping camera movements that evoke a sense of dread. The film’s color palette—washed-out blues and deep, ominous reds—reinforces the feeling of isolation and growing paranoia.

However, while Kane’s direction effectively establishes mood, it ultimately fails to sustain tension. The pacing is inconsistent, with long stretches of Alex’s investigation dragging on without meaningful revelations. Scenes that should heighten suspense instead meander, leaving the audience disconnected rather than on edge. The film often prioritizes its aesthetic over narrative urgency, resulting in a visually captivating yet emotionally hollow experience.

One of the film’s biggest flaws is its screenplay. The script, credited to Kane and co-writer Webb Wilcoxen, sets up numerous intriguing threads but fails to follow through on them in a satisfying manner. The film teases supernatural elements—strange shadows, distorted reflections, eerie phone calls—but never fully commits to them, leaving much of its horror feeling half-baked.

Alex’s investigation is another weak point. Rather than unfolding in a gripping, methodical manner, her search for Kyle quickly devolves into a series of vague conversations and cryptic clues that ultimately lead nowhere. The film introduces several intriguing ideas—such as a disturbing urban legend connected to Kyle’s past and a mysterious group that may or may not be involved in his disappearance—but fails to develop them in a way that is both coherent and compelling.

The Dead Thing attempts to explore the dangers of obsession and the fine line between love and possession. However, these themes are muddled by a story that lacks focus. The film struggles to decide whether it wants to be a psychological drama, a supernatural horror, or a neo-noir mystery, resulting in an identity crisis that weakens its impact.

For a film marketed as a horror thriller, The Dead Thing is disappointingly light on genuine scares. While there are a few effective moments, most of the horror elements feel underwhelming and undercooked. The film relies heavily on atmosphere and suggestion, but without a strong narrative foundation, these moments fail to land with the intended impact.

The Dead Thing is a film brimming with potential that ultimately fails to deliver on its promises. While Blu Hunt’s performance and the film’s atmospheric direction offer glimpses of what could have been, the sluggish pacing, weak character development, and incoherent storytelling hold it back from being a truly compelling horror experience.

For those who appreciate slow-burn horror with strong visual aesthetics, there may be some merit in The Dead Thing. However, for viewers seeking a gripping, well-structured narrative with genuine scares and emotional payoff, this film is likely to disappoint.

In the end, The Dead Thing is less a chilling ghost story and more an exercise in frustration—a film that hints at greatness but ultimately fades into forgettable mediocrity.