The Boogeyman

I have a very specific, childhood-ingrained ritual of checking the gap between my mattress and the wall before I turn out the lights. It’s irrational, I know, but there’s something about that sliver of absolute blackness that feels like an invitation for something nasty. Rob Savage’s 2023 take on The Boogeyman understands that specific brand of domestic anxiety perfectly. I watched this while wearing a pair of itchy wool socks that I eventually had to take off because the friction was making more noise than the movie's jump-scare build-ups, and honestly, the cold feet only added to the experience.

From the iPad to the Multiplex

The most "2023" thing about The Boogeyman isn't even on the screen—it’s the fact that we got to see it in a theater at all. Originally, 20th Century Studios (under the ever-looming shadow of Disney) planned to dump this straight onto Hulu. It was destined to be another "scroll-past" thumbnail in the streaming abyss. But then, the test screenings happened. Apparently, the audience reaction was so intense—with people screaming and jumping in their seats—that the studio did a complete 180 and gave it a full theatrical release.

In an era where the mid-budget horror movie is often sacrificed to the "content" gods of streaming, seeing a Stephen King adaptation get a proper big-screen rollout felt like a minor victory for us cinema nerds. It helps that the screenplay was polished by Scott Beck and Bryan Woods, the duo who gave us A Quiet Place. They know exactly how to weaponize silence, and in a crowded theater, that silence is a physical weight you can feel in your chest.

The Dastmalchian Factor

The movie starts with a sequence that is, frankly, much more disturbing than the rest of the film. We meet Lester Billings, played by the consistently incredible David Dastmalchian (you probably know him from Dune or as the tragic Polka-Dot Man in The Suicide Squad). He shows up at the home office of therapist Will Harper (Chris Messina) looking like a man who hasn't slept since the Nixon administration.

Dastmalchian is a master of "unsettling but empathetic," and his brief performance here sets a high bar for the dread that follows. He tells a story about his children being taken by something in the shadows, and Chris Messina’s character is basically a walking advertisement for why therapists should never work from home. The tragedy that unfolds in those first twenty minutes casts a long, suffocating shadow over the rest of the film, shifting the focus to Will’s daughters, Sadie (Sophie Thatcher) and Sawyer (Vivien Lyra Blair).

A Masterclass in Shadow-Play

While the "monster as a metaphor for grief" trope is becoming a bit of a cliché in contemporary horror, Sophie Thatcher—who I absolutely adore in Yellowjackets—makes it feel grounded. She plays Sadie with a raw, jagged edge that feels real. She’s mourning her mother, dealing with a father who is emotionally checked out, and trying to protect her younger sister from a literal monster that hides in the closet. Vivien Lyra Blair, who most of us remember as young Leia in Obi-Wan Kenobi, is equally impressive. Seeing a kid use a giant glowing moon-lamp as a defensive weapon is a visual I won't soon forget.

The real MVP, however, is the lighting. Cinematographer Eli Born deserves a shout-out for making a movie this dark actually legible. There’s a scene involving a flickering red light during a therapy session that is genuinely nerve-wracking. The creature design itself is a bit of a mixed bag; when the lights finally come up, the monster looks like a rejected Slipknot mask had a baby with a spider. It’s much scarier when it’s just a pair of pale eyes reflecting light from under a bed. I found myself squinting at the corners of the screen, convinced I saw movement where there was only digital grain.

Cool Details from the Dark

One of the most interesting bits of trivia I stumbled across is that Rob Savage actually had to scale back some of the jump scares because they were too effective during test screenings. Audiences were so busy screaming that they missed the next three minutes of dialogue. That’s the "Savage touch"—he’s a director who rose to fame during the pandemic with the Zoom-based horror Host, a film that proved he could generate massive tension with zero budget. With $35 million here, he plays with the big toys but keeps that same claustrophobic energy.

There’s also a subtle nod to the original 1973 short story for the eagle-eyed King fans. In the movie, Sadie visits Lester’s widow, Rita (Marin Ireland), and the house they've built is a literal trap. It’s a departure from the source material, but it maintains that grim, "nowhere is safe" vibe that King excels at. I also noticed that the sound design uses these low-frequency hums that made my theater seat vibrate just enough to make me think someone was kicking the back of it.

The Boogeyman doesn't reinvent the wheel, but it balances the "elevated horror" themes of the current era with some very effective, old-school scares. It’s a solid, well-acted genre piece that reminds us why we’re afraid of the dark in the first place. If you can, watch it in a pitch-black room with the sound cranked up—just make sure your closet door is shut tight first. You might think you're over the childhood fear of the thing under the bed, but this movie is very good at making you second-guess that confidence.