For many years, the phrase “video game movie” became synonymous with jest, largely due to poorly received adaptations such as Street Fighter, Silent Hill, and the frequently misinterpreted Super Mario Bros. film released in 1993. However, that perception has recently taken a turn for the better. Viewers are now welcoming a new era of gaming-inspired entertainment, highlighted by the animated Super Mario Bros. Movie and the Sonic the Hedgehog trilogy, alongside HBO’s critically lauded The Last of Us series and the wildly successful, chaotic The Minecraft Movie.
With this increase in interest, it appears to be the perfect moment for a film adaptation of Until Dawn—a horror video game that enchanted gamers with its slasher elements and butterfly-effect mechanics. Even the not-so-favorably reviewed Five Nights at Freddy’s movie was able to generate sufficient box office returns to justify a sequel. Nevertheless, adapting Until Dawn poses a distinct challenge: the game’s allure stems from its interactivity, where players’ choices dictate which characters survive. Simply converting the storyline into a film format risks losing the very essence that made the game so engaging.
Instead of producing a direct adaptation, the creative team behind Until Dawn strives to mirror the game’s choice-based mechanics by employing an inventive narrative device: a time loop. This strategy seeks to replicate the trial-and-error gameplay experience while also providing a novel perspective within the horror genre.
Until Dawn presents a new narrative infused with recognizable themes.
Screenwriters Blair Butler and Gary Dauberman make significant departures from the original game’s foundation. The conventional high school archetypes—the jock, the nerd, the mean girl—are absent. Instead, we follow a more intimate and relatable group comprising Clover (Ella Rubin), her childhood friends Nina (Odessa A’zion) and Megan (Ji-young Yoo), her ex-boyfriend Max (Michael Cimino), and Nina’s current partner Abe (Belmont Cameli). Unlike a carefree weekend retreat, the group embarks on a tense road trip to locate Clover’s sister Melanie, who vanished a year prior.
Their expedition takes them to the foreboding Glore Valley, where a seemingly harmless welcome center ensnares them in a perilous time loop. Each night, they must endure a series of horrors—including masked assailants, creatures, and supernatural entities—only to awaken and repeat the ordeal. The only method to escape the loop is to survive until dawn breaks.
Initially, this mechanic functions effectively. Similar to numerous video games, failure triggers a reset, allowing characters to apply their newfound knowledge for another attempt. It evokes memories of the Tom Cruise sci-fi thriller Edge of Tomorrow, despite that film not being video game-based. The loop serves as a clever means to translate the spirit of Until Dawn’s gameplay for the cinematic experience.
However, the film ultimately falters.
In spite of its intriguing premise, Until Dawn ultimately veers away from its established rules. In the game, if a character meets their end, the narrative carries on with the remaining ones. Yet in the film, death leads to a temporary reset. Midway through, characters mysteriously lose recollections of prior loops, and the time loop itself seems to disintegrate without clear reasoning. What started as a tactical survival narrative devolves into a chaotic fusion of horror clichés.
The film begins to resemble a highlights montage of horror tropes: one moment the teenagers flee from a killer, the next they confront monsters or engage with a witch. The characters openly recognize the disjointed feel, yet their self-awareness does not enhance the randomness. Unlike savvy genre films that utilize common setups to twist expectations, Until Dawn simply hurls various elements at the screen to see what resonates.
The outcome is a horror feast lacking a central dish.
Director David F. Sandberg (Lights Out, Annabelle: Creation, Shazam!) clearly relishes creating gruesome scenes. The movie is filled with bloodshed, gore, and creative kills that will satisfy horror enthusiasts. Fans of the genre may also enjoy the allusions to classics like Poltergeist and Mario Bava’s Shock. However, while the film provides a range of horror styles, it ultimately suffers from a lack of unity.
The characters are inadequately developed, more characterized by their relationships than by distinct personalities. Clover is desperate to locate her sister, yet beyond that, she lacks depth. The others do not fare much better—one claims to have psychic abilities, one remains preoccupied with his ex, and one is simply “the boyfriend.” In comparison to the game’s characters, who developed over extended gameplay, these protagonists come off as flat and forgettable.
The storyline, too, becomes progressively convoluted. Peter Stormare, the sole actor returning from the game, makes a welcome appearance, yet even his scenes appear to be tacked on. The movie’s final act is a perplexing mix of surreal visuals and half-formed concepts, as if rewritten or reshot at the last moment. What could have evolved into a clever, genre-defying horror film