Sally Hurst (Bailee Madison) arrives at the Gothic mansion her father (Guy Pearce) and his new girlfriend (Katie Holmes) are restoring. She discovers the house’s boarded-up basement, which proves to be unfortunate, as it’s home to some nasty little creatures with a peculiar diet.

CRITIQUE

I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen the 1973 TV movie on which this movie is based. I added the qualifier because there’s a chance I saw it years ago and managed to forget (I’m starting to have trouble remembering the titles of books I’ve read or even whether or not I’ve read certain books, so I guess the same could true of movies I might have seen in my younger days, but that’s a complaint for a different day); I suppose I could have stumbled across it one day while flipping channels. Whatever the case, I went into this big-screen remake either completely fresh or close enough to count.

My interest here stems not from name recognition (the title always makes me think of the Robert Cray song anyway) or curiosity as to how this one measures up to the original; what interested me was the involvement of co-writer/co-producer Guillermo del Toro (he penned the script with Matthew Robinson) and debuting director Troy Nixey. I’ll follow anywhere del Toro leads, and I was intrigued to see how Nixey, whose comics work I’ve encountered in the past, transitioned to cinema. And it’s no wonder del Toro offered Nixey the chance to helm this project.

Although their professional relationship didn’t begin until Nixey sent del Toro a copy of a short film he’d made and asked for some feedback, it’s quite possible that it was actually fate (or Fate) that brought them together. Nixey’s most famous comics work is a serialized adaptation of Neil Gaiman’s short story “Only the End of the World Again,” which is set in H.P. Lovecraft’s Innsmouth. Del Toro’s love of all things Lovecraft is no secret (I hope Pacific Rim makes fat bank and gets At the Mountains of Madness back on track), and Lovecraft nuts tend to be drawn together in much the same manner the nuts in one of his stories are drawn together.

So what’s the point to all this? I don’t know, except maybe to give you an idea of what you’re in for here. Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark is the first feature for a man best known for drawing tentacled creatures, and is co-written and co-produced by a man who has a fondness (read: obsession) for creatures, tentacled or otherwise. You can probably extrapolate what the focus will be.

This is essentially a haunted house movie, but it’s one in which the filmmakers are more interested in the little beasties that are causing all of trouble than the trouble they cause; there’s not much in the way of mood, atmosphere, tension, whatever. The stuff with the creatures is definitely well done, but the movie could have used a little more of everything else (and that includes character development and logic). When it’s all said and done, this is just a moderately well done story of rat-sized creatures that occasionally attack people. There’s absolutely nothing more to it.

I think I can guess what so fascinated the young del Toro. Had I seen the TV movie sometime before my age hit double digits, I’m positive I would have been simultaneously creeped out and intrigued by the little monsters. Del Toro must have longed for the opportunity to get to play with his own version of these tiny terrors, and that’s what this movie is built around. Just as Peter Jackson likely couldn’t wait to make his own version of Kong do whatever he wanted for as long as he wanted, del Toro couldn’t wait to have the creatures here wreak all kinds of havoc and mischief, and he seems to have infected Nixey with the same desire. That explains why the movie seems so half-interested in everything that leads up to the moment the monsters tear loose.

The first hour of the movie is fluidly, beautifully filmed (as far as the visuals compositions are concerned, Nixey has chops), but it never really feels like it’s doing anything but going through the motions. Everything is familiar, from the adults’ reactions to the weirdness right on down to everyone’s unquestioning acceptance of an in-the-know supporting character’s claim an attack that left him bruised, bloody, and with a pair of scissors sticking out of his back was just as accident. The material’s not spun in any distinctive or clever way, although that’s exactly what it needed.

When the movie hits its third act, and the creatures come fully out of hiding and start tearing through the house with unmitigated abandon, the movie finally comes into its own (relatively speaking). There’s a sequence where Sally disrupts a dinner party and pursues one of the creatures, hoping to snap a photo of it with a Polaroid camera, that has the sort of macabre mischievousness del Toro is known for. It segues into a sequence in which Sally is locked in a library and tormented, a sequence Nixey obviously had a whale of a time staging. (It’s obvious Nixey called the shots here, as the movie doesn’t have the signature look of del Toro’s work. There weren’t any Poltergeist-style shenanigans going on behind the camera). The climax, which is a lengthy full-on assault by the creatures, is also handled well (although it goes on too long), and there are some other bits along the way that show signs of life.

On the whole, though, it’s hard not to be disappointed. Maybe the curse of expectations is playing too heavy a role here, but I can’t help but expect more than a bit of solid craft here and there when del Toro’s hands are in the mix. I know ultimately it’s Nixey’s movie, and I know the material has its origins in something made long before audiences became jaded to this sort of thing, but still. The original seems to have affected a large number of people who saw it at an impressionable age, and it’s likely that group’s present-day analogues are the ones who’d be most affected by the remake; paradoxically, they’re too young to see it. It’s almost as if del Toro didn’t update the movie so much as just drag it forward in time and massage it a little, resulting in a work that’s going to leave most viewers at least a little dissatisfied.

THE VIDEO

The 1.85:1/1080p transfer--encoded with AVC onto a 50GB disc--looks fantastic. It’s not flawless, as there’s some minor aliasing to be found (Nixey likes sweeping crane shots the way De Palma likes sweeping camera shots, and combining that with the ornate architecture of the main location results in aliasing), but it’s gorgeous; it’s an especially impressive effort, as much of the movie is quite dark, which couldn’t have been easy to translate to the digital realm. Detail is strong, even in the darkest scenes. Blacks are always deep and inky, and there’s not even a hint of crush. Colors, from burnished golds to rich earth tones to the odd bold primary, look terrific.

THE AUDIO

The only audio option is an English DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 track. The audio is just as impressive as the video, immersive and playful. The creatures constantly scurry about the surrounds, and their dialogue is usually presented in breathy, sibilant whispers that are aimed right at the back your head. Marco Beltrami and Buck Sanders’s music (which does a lot for the movie) is afforded a great presentation. Bass action is unbelievably deep. Dialogue generally sounds fine and natural, but some hushed lines can be a bit difficult to make out. English, English SDH, and Spanish subtitles are available.

THE EXTRAS

You know how you normally get a wealth of extras on a del Toro disc? Not so here. Only two bonus features are included. The first is Don’t Be Afraid..., a three-part documentary (the segments are The Story, Blackwood’s Mansion, and The Creatures) that runs twenty-one minutes (and is presented in high-def). It covers the origins of the project, updating/adapting the teleplay, production design, and the creation of the movie’s fantastical beings. (Am I the only one who thinks a twenty-one minute runtime doesn’t qualify it as a documentary?)

The second (and last) extra is a Conceptual Art Gallery, which contains numerous drawings of the movie’s creatures, sets, props, etc.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Labors of love have a tendency to satisfy only those who labored. I’m happy del Toro was finally able to see his dream come to fruition, but I’d be even happier if the movie wasn’t so marginal.