Sting (2024)

Score: 3 / 5

Another killer spider movie in the same year? Why not?! Sting is a far cry from the French socio-political semi-realistic nightmare fuel that is Infested, but that doesn't mean it's not a heck of a lot of fun on its own weird terms. 

Its plot, as described, is annoyingly familiar: Charlotte, a pre-teen plagued with ennui (played by Alyla Browne), finds an unusual-looking spider in her great-aunt's apartment and decides to keep it as a pet. It grows alarmingly quickly and develops a predatory, carnivorous appetite, requiring Charlotte and her family to fight for their lives. Ugh. Monster movies are tough, because you want to either really have them represent something specific or feel unique. "Sting," as Charlotte names her pet, is not unique, so we have to suspect it stands for something regarding her, such as childhood trauma or puberty or something.

But a rote plot does not a movie break. This B-movie knows exactly what it is and introduces itself to us as such immediately. There's a fun, almost Spielbergian quality to its opening sequence, loaded with bizarre scares and deadpan gallows humor, and then we flashback to an inciting incident: a little green meteorite burns through the atmosphere before crash landing in an old woman's apartment. Specifically, in her dollhouse. From the smoking shell comes forth a spider that crawls around the dollhouse while opening credits manifest around it. It's all very clever and fun, like if Little Shop of Horrors and Hereditary had an arachnoid bent.

The film's thematic concerns eschew real issues such as gentrification, xenophobia, classism, sexism, and conflict between rural, urban, and suburban communities, any of which can and have been used in other stories. Rather, this one makes things domestic and private, focusing tightly on Charlotte and her stepfather (hardworking, somewhat absent, artistically inclined), mother with whom she never quite sees eye to eye, and baby brother. Perhaps I didn't care about the emotional core of this story simply because I didn't like Charlotte; willfully rebellious kids taking full advantage of parents beyond their means never intrigue me beyond irritation. If you're into characters like her, you might be more interested in their strained relationship and how it exacerbates the plot and pending horror.

Instead of those elements, I absorbed the shock and excesses of the traditionally scary moments of this bizarre flick. I wouldn't go so far as to qualify the filmmakers' approach as camp, but it definitely feels more than a little inspired by Grand Guignol aesthetics. The face-value scares indeed pop out at you, often glistening and gritty and palpably gross (thanks in no small part to creature effects from Weta Workshop). But it's the fairly brightly lit film that is most surprising and effective. This is not the Gothic, shadowy fever dream that is Infested. This is a jewel-toned, active camera romp through an R-rated haunted house. Case in point: (SPOILER ALERT) there is a single shot that had me gagging and laughing at the same time, as Charlotte rounds a corner and sees a cat, splayed and frozen in a midair web, eviscerated and looking like if Mrs. Norris had been dissected, not petrified, by Ginny Weasley. What should be deeply sad is so alarmingly posed and lit that your discomfort has to allow for a choking guffaw. That's a tough tone to craft from a filmmaking perspective.

That level of polish permeates the film, demonstrating that its creators knew full well the trappings of the material and wanted to both honor and elevate it above its station. Sting -- the alien spider -- itself is relatively unimportant to the story; it could just as easily be a pet lion or gator or dragon that Charlotte raised in secret to soothe her adolescent mind. But the giant flesh-eating spider from space helps cross generic boundaries while literally draping the set in its atmospheric snares.

Flat characters doing exactly what you expect them to, and without much thematic conceit to drive them, makes the film fall pretty flat in context of what has come before. But Sting is a spooky, icky, breezy way to pass the time as we get ready to turn away from summer horror to autumn horror. Its credulity-straining narrative turns notwithstanding, a handful of violent, horrifying visuals and some dynamic cinematography certainly make it more than watchable. And Jermaine Fowler even joins in the fun!