Cobweb (2023) Review

In Cobweb, a film that teeters between domestic tranquility and creeping dread, director Samuel Bodin constructs a haunting descent into the uncanny, subverting the illusion of familial bliss and leading us into a labyrinth of psychological horror. The film is a masterclass in balancing the ordinary with the extraordinary, where the everyday settings of suburban life slowly twist into something far more sinister.

Making his feature-length directorial debut, Bodin demonstrates a keen understanding of the horror genre’s subtleties, channeling the kind of slow-burn tension that echoes the greats of horror cinema. Cobweb initially lulls the viewer into a false sense of security with its familiar backdrop of suburban normalcy, only to peel away the layers and reveal the chilling reality lurking beneath. The narrative centers on young Peter (Woody Norman), a boy who is pallid and withdrawn, his life dominated by schoolyard taunts and the suffocating protectiveness of his parents, played with unnerving subtlety by Lizzy Caplan and Antony Starr.

Woody Norman’s portrayal of Peter is nothing short of remarkable. He captures the fragility and innocence of a child on the cusp of a terrifying discovery, where the walls of his home – quite literally – start closing in on him. As Peter begins to hear strange noises and ghostly whispers emanating from behind the wallpaper, the film taps into the primal fears of childhood, where the line between reality and imagination blurs. Bodin’s direction here is particularly effective, with the camera sliding through the narrow corridors and darkened corners of the house, always suggesting but never fully revealing the horrors that lie in wait.

One of the film’s strongest aspects is its dedication to maintaining the child’s perspective. Through Peter’s eyes, the mundane becomes ominous; every creak, every shadow is charged with potential danger. This focus on the child’s viewpoint is what sets Cobweb apart from the myriad of haunted house films that have come before. It’s not just about what Peter sees or hears, but about what he feels – the growing dread, the sense of isolation, the creeping suspicion that his parents are hiding something from him.

Caplan and Starr deliver performances that are as unsettling as they are compelling. Their characters straddle the line between caring parents and manipulative puppeteers, with every smile and reassuring word carrying an undercurrent of menace. This duality adds a layer of psychological horror to the film, as we are left to question their true intentions. Are they protectors, or are they part of the very evil that Peter senses in his home?

Cobweb also skillfully plays with ambiguity. The voice behind the walls, Sarah (Aleksandra Dragova), is a haunting presence whose true nature remains elusive for much of the film. Is she a figment of Peter’s imagination, a manifestation of his fears, or something far more real and dangerous? Bodin allows this question to linger, adding to the film’s tension and keeping the audience on edge.

The film’s title, “Cobweb,” is a fitting metaphor for the tangled web of secrets and lies that ensnare Peter. As the story unfolds, the strands of this web tighten, leading to a chaotic and visceral climax that, while somewhat predictable, is executed with enough flair to leave an impact. It’s a reminder that in horror, as in life, the most frightening monsters are often those closest to us.

Ultimately, Cobweb emerges as a chilling and atmospheric entry into the horror genre. Samuel Bodin proves himself to be a promising storyteller, one who understands that true terror often lies in what is unseen and unsaid. While the film may not break new ground, its psychological depth and commitment to suspense make it a compelling watch, particularly for those who appreciate the more subtle, creeping horrors of the genre.

Movie Rating:

Cobweb Trailer