Until Dawn (2025)
Until Dawn starts off with a solid hook: a group of friends gets stuck in a terrifying time loop, hunted night after night by some gruesome, shadowy force. Every time one of them dies, the clock resets and they have to do it all over again—trying to survive, solve the mystery, and maybe find a way out. At the centre of it all is Clover (played with real heart by Ella Rubin), who’s trying to find her missing sister, Melanie. That search kicks off the whole road trip to a creepy, remote valley—one that quickly turns into the kind of place you don’t come back from.
On paper, this should be a blast. It’s a mix of Happy Death Day, The Mist, and a pinch of Final Destination. There’s even a nod to the original video game, but the movie isn’t just a retelling—it builds its own story and tries to stand on its own. And to be fair, it kind of does. The time loop idea adds tension and mystery, especially at first, but by the halfway mark, it starts to wear thin. Watching the same night play out over and over gets repetitive fast, and the momentum starts to slip just when it should be ramping up.
Director David F. Sandberg knows horror, and you can see that in the way he stages the scares. The deaths are brutal, the tension is decent, and the practical effects give everything a nice grimy texture that CGI just can’t match. The setting—filmed in Budapest—is genuinely creepy: foggy forests, isolated cabins, weird carvings in the walls. But the visuals lean hard into grey and blue tones, and after a while, it all starts to feel a bit samey. Beautiful in a bleak kind of way, but also a bit…flat.
The film flirts with some deeper themes—grief, guilt, friendship, sacrifice. There’s a message in there about how survival depends on sticking together, which becomes pretty literal as the plot goes on. Psychic powers, rituals, cursed ground—it’s all in the mix, and while it adds some flavour, a lot of it feels undercooked, like the movie didn’t quite know how to blend everything together.
The cast does their best with what they’ve got. Ella Rubin carries the emotional weight of the film and makes Clover someone you actually care about. Odessa A’zion brings fire and attitude as Nina, which helps break up the gloom. Ji-young Yoo is a standout too—especially in the more eerie, possession-adjacent scenes. The rest of the group ranges from solid to kind of soap-operatic. Some of the performances feel like they belong in a teen drama more than a horror film, which can pull you out of the moment. Peter Stormare pops up again as Dr. Hill, and while it’s a fun cameo for fans of the game, it doesn’t add much to the actual plot.
Dialogue is hit and miss. Some of it feels authentic, but a lot of it leans on clichés and clunky exposition. There are attempts at humour and emotional connection, but they don’t always land. And pacing-wise, the film starts strong, dips in the middle with all the repetition, and tries to go big at the end. The finale has its moments, but it doesn’t quite deliver the emotional gut punch it needs to make all the looping feel worth it.
The score by Benjamin Wallfisch is moody and fits the tone, but it doesn’t stand out. You won’t be humming anything on the way home. Editing keeps things mostly on track, though the structure really could’ve used more creative transitions to keep the time loop from feeling so samey.
That said, some stuff really works. The special effects, especially the practical gore, are great. And there are clever little touches, like a guest book whose signatures fade with each loop—a cool symbolic detail that almost gets lost in the chaos.
So, is Until Dawn worth your time? That depends. If you love survival horror and are down for something that sits somewhere between Happy Death Day and The Forest, you’ll probably enjoy the ride. It’s got creepy vibes, bloody deaths, and a cool concept. But if you’re looking for something truly original, deeply scary, or emotionally satisfying? This one’s more of a popcorn flick than a game-changer. It’s watchable. Sometimes fun. Occasionally spooky. But don’t be surprised if, once it’s over, you forget about it before the week’s out.