Dust Bunny, 2025.
Written and Directed by Bryan Fuller.
Starring Sophie Sloan, Mads Mikkelsen, Sigourney Weaver, David Dastmalchian, Sheila Atim, and Rebecca Henderson.
SYNOPSIS:
A little girl hires a man (Mads Mikkelsen) to kill the monster under her bed.
Often when artists transition from television to film, their weaknesses become amplified. Years of success on TV— where they have time to develop characters and rely on a collaborative and episodic structure — don’t always translate to the tight running time and heavier directorial burden of cinema. I was relieved, however, to recognize within the first 15 minutes of Dust Bunny the unmistakable creative voice behind Hannibal, American Gods, and Dead Like Me. Through camera work, production design, and casting, Bryan Fuller’s style is as clear as day. In his feature film directorial debut, he announces himself as a visionary auteur.
Dust Bunny is a fun, imaginative midnight movie. When it leans fully into its fantastical setting and genre trappings, it becomes a beautiful work of fantasy—showcasing gorgeous set design by Jeremy Reed and lush cinematography by Nicole Hirsch Walker. But when the film tries to rationalize itself within some kind of grounded reality, its fairytale wings start to flutter a little too hard. At times it plays like Burton unmasked. Fuller doesn’t have the confidence of Del Toro, the precision of Raimi, or the comedic stylings of Peter Jackson but he most certainly is their peer, and only on his first film. It is much harder in 2025 to make a splashy debut than it was in the 90s without the built in budget of the DVD market to fall back on.
The opening sets the tone beautifully: a little girl makes a wish at her bedroom window, and we follow her point of view as she watches a mysterious man wander down the street. Is the world exactly as it seems, or is there a harsher, hidden truth? Fuller wisely chooses to show rather than tell in these early scenes. The set design recalls Little Nemo in Slumberland, with dreamlike star cutouts on the walls and a low camera perspective that makes the world feel immense. One of the film’s most striking images is of heroes and villains walking home at night, backlit by street or car lights—an iconic shot showing Fuller can achieve visionary macabre work on a modest budget. One can only imagine what he might do with more resources.
The cast is excellent across the board. Fuller has always known how to assemble strong ensembles, and here is no different. Sophie Sloan shines in the lead role, cast at the suggestion of Sigourney Weaver. Her dynamic with Mikkelsen is compelling, as is Mikkelsen’s with Weaver—though their relationship could have used more depth. Unfortunately, too many of their conversations focus on plot logistics, which hurts pacing and diminishes the film’s mystique. Another common pitfall of first-time directors appears: not knowing when to end a scene. What should be a tight, sharp midnight movie runs about 15 minutes too long. The climactic battle, while exciting, grows repetitive. Thankfully, David Dastmalchian’s late arrival injects fresh energy— on any horror/thriller he’s always welcome aboard.
Fuller has explained that the film’s genesis came from a childhood memory: wishing bad things upon his father. That psychological complexity surprisingly permeates Dust Bunny but not carefully enough to realize its true dimension. Thanks to Sloan’s innocent performance and Fuller’s blend of darkness and wonder, the audience is never quite sure whether the child is purely innocent—or something more unsettling.
For a fable, the story is surprisingly dark. The gunfights alone would scuttle away most children under eight. Yet Fuller counterbalances this with dreamlike visuals, imaginative costumes by Catherine Leterrier and Oliver Bériot, and playful design that keeps the film from descending fully into bleakness. Where Fuller stumbles is in abandoning the child’s point of view. He can’t decide whether to “put away childish things” or fully embrace the joys of childlike imagination. That indecision prevents the film from sticking the landing, though there’s still much to admire.
The tonal shift is especially noticeable: the movie begins with silent wonder, only to bog down later with heavy dialogue. Mikkelsen explaining and then re-explaining his role in this fairy tale to Weaver, Sloan and a child protective services worker played by Sheila Atim (who is having fun along with everyone else) multiple times undermines the mystique. If Fuller trusted his direction over his dialogue it would have been far more powerful to let the audience question what the child actually sees—whether the monster is real or simply a trauma response. The final scene packs things away a little too neatly even for a heightened fantasy. The film doesn’t need realism, but it does need naturalism, and that ending takes us out of the world Fuller so carefully built.
In the end, Dust Bunny is uneven but fascinating—an ambitious debut full of striking imagery, strong performances, and genuine imagination, even if its spell wavers in the final act.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ | Movie: ★ ★ ★
Will Hume
