The Dead Thing
The Dead Thing
A young woman lost in a series of meaningless connections falls in love with a charismatic and sensitive man, who hides a dark secret that turns her affair into a dangerous obsession.
Spoons reviewedFebruary 14, 2025
The Dead Thing is a slow burn, crawling under your skin rather than going straight for the throat. It plays like a twisted allegory for love bombing and the toxicity of modern dating culture, where charm can mask something far more insidious. At its core is Blu Hunt’s standout performance, holding the film together with raw vulnerability and quiet strength. She plays a woman who falls for a stranger who seems too good to be true—because he is. The deeper she’s pulled in, the clearer it becomes that this isn’t just a doomed romance; it’s a seduction built on something predatory.
The film leans heavily on its aesthetic—a slick, near-noir visual style that drapes every scene in shadow and soft neon glow. It’s hypnotic, even when the pacing drags. The horror takes its time, more psychological than visceral, and the central antagonist—a male succubus, flipping the usual dynamic—is an intriguing concept. But without Hunt’s grounded performance and the film’s deliberate style, this could have been a mess. The narrative flirts with deeper themes but doesn’t always land them, and at times, the slow pacing threatens to undermine the tension.
Still, there’s something lingering about it, something unsettling in the way it captures the feeling of being consumed by someone who only ever meant to devour you. If you appreciate slow-burning, atmospheric horror like The Invitation or the moody existential dread of Only Lovers Left Alive, The Dead Thing is worth a watch. It’s flawed, but its eerie beauty and thematic weight keep it from fading into obscurity.