TL;DR: Until Dawn is a wickedly fun, if not particularly deep, video game adaptation that gleefully slices and dices its way through horror tropes like a love letter to the genre. Think The Cabin in the Woods meets Groundhog Day with a dash of PlayStation nostalgia. It’s light on plot but heavy on atmosphere, style, and blood-splattered joy.

Chapter One: Welcome to the Loop, Again and Again

Let’s get this out of the way: turning Until Dawn — the gloriously campy, butterfly-effect-heavy horror game from 2015 — into a movie shouldn’t have worked. It’s a video game defined by its interactivity. Choice is the point. Watching it unfold passively sounds like ripping the soul out of it.

But here’s the twist: director David F. Sandberg and writers Gary Dauberman and Blair Butler said, screw it — let’s turn that very interactivity into the text of the film. Instead of a single linear story, the movie Until Dawn is an unhinged, almost anthology-style remix of horror subgenres. And it’s a blast.

The premise feels familiar, almost laughably so. Five friends head into the woods to track down the truth behind a missing sister, only to stumble into a cursed welcome center in Glore Valley. There’s an hourglass that flips itself, a wall of missing persons flyers, and a cursed guestbook. If that sounds like the setup to 80 different horror movies, that’s kind of the point.

But here’s where the movie gets clever. Each time one of the group dies — and oh yes, they die — the story resets. It’s Groundhog Day with more gore and less weather forecasting. Every death sends us back to square one, and each loop introduces new rules, new monsters, and new genre nods.

Chapter Two: The Genre Blender of Your Dreams (or Nightmares)

Until Dawn doesn’t just pay homage to horror tropes; it jumps between them like a cinematic fever dream. One loop traps the gang in a slasher flick with a masked killer that could make Jason Voorhees sweat. Another turns into full J-horror territory, with Ju-On-style ghosts and glitchy, jerking limbs. There’s possession, contaminated water, witches, and more. It’s a horror sampler platter, and somehow, it’s all delicious.

That anthology spirit is what makes the film tick. It feels like a chaotic, late-night binge through horror history, repackaged through a modern lens. And that energy? It’s infectious. Sandberg, returning to horror after his superhero detour with Shazam!, looks like he’s having the time of his life.

Chapter Three: Clover, Dr. Hill, and the (Thin) Thread of Plot

Ella Rubin anchors the chaos as Clover, our determined final girl in training, looking for her missing sister and trying to keep her friend group alive. She’s compelling, even when the script doesn’t give her much to do beyond reacting to increasingly bonkers scenarios.

The supporting cast — including Michael Cimino, Odessa A’zion, Belmont Cameli, and Ji-young Yoo — are mostly there to die stylishly and scream convincingly. Their character arcs? Paper-thin. Their chemistry? Serviceable. But hey, the kills are creative, and that’s the real draw.

Peter Stormare reprises his role as Dr. Hill, the eerie psychiatrist from the game, and his brief scenes are pitch-perfect injections of fan service. He slinks into the story like a cryptic dream and leaves you wondering what’s real. It’s the kind of crossover moment that’s both unnecessary and totally satisfying.

Chapter Four: Story? What Story?

Let’s not pretend Until Dawn is narratively complex. It’s a vibe, not a thesis. The lore behind Glore Valley is mostly exposition salad, with dollops of witchy mythology and time-loop nonsense. It doesn’t really matter, and the movie knows it. It’s here to entertain, not explain.

This might disappoint lore nerds or viewers craving cohesion, but for anyone just looking to revel in genre play, the incoherence is part of the charm. It’s like getting lost in a haunted maze — confusing, spooky, and full of cheap thrills.

Final Thoughts: Death Has Never Been This Fun

Until Dawn the game asked us to make choices and watch the consequences. The film lets us watch the consequences — all of them. It’s not as personal, but it is more chaotic, and often just as fun. It’s horror as spectacle, as amusement park ride, as a looping experiment in tone and style.

And in that way, it might be the smartest dumb horror movie of the year. It doesn’t want to change the world. It just wants you to have a bloody good time.

Until Dawn is a gory, genre-hopping thrill ride that sacrifices depth for delightful mayhem. It’s fast, fun, and full of freaky surprises. Don’t think too hard — just enjoy the loop.