‘Five Nights At Freddy’s’: Review

Dir: Emma Tammi. US. 2023. 109mins

Those who came of age frequenting family-themed restaurants, both delighted and slightly traumatised by their lumbering animatronic characters meant to entertain children, may feel a nostalgic pull watching Five Nights At Freddy’s, a horror-thriller in which the mechanised creatures come to life and wreak havoc on the unsuspecting. Unfortunately, this adaptation of the popular 2014 video game fails at delivering scares or cheeky laughs, resulting in a tedious experience that relies heavily on horror’s most cliched tropes. This is that rare Blumhouse release that may struggle to find a receptive audience.

A tedious experience that relies heavily on horror’s most cliched tropes

Universal opened Freddy’s in the UK on October 25 and the US two days later, with the film simultaneously hitting the streaming service Peacock in the States. Fans of the game may be initially intrigued — and no doubt producer Jason Blum’s horror track record will help — but expect frosty word-of-mouth, despite the picture coming out around Halloween.

Josh Hutcherson plays Mike, a tormented young man still haunted by the abduction of his brother Garrett when they were boys. Now single-handedly raising his much younger sister, the withdrawn Abby (Piper Rubio), Mike struggles to hold onto a job, reluctantly signing up to be a night security guard for Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria, a family restaurant that has been closed down, its 1980s heyday long behind it. Soon, he discovers that the large, upright, rusted-out animatronic animals that once served as the restaurant’s house band may have minds of their own — and a disturbing penchant for murder.

Directed by Emma Tammi (The Wind), Freddy’s is co-written by Scott Cawthon, who created the game in 2014. At first, the picture seems like it might be akin to Blumhouse’s Megan, which similarly combined horror and humour, leaning into its inherently cheesy premise of a bratty killer doll. But although the animatronic creatures are cleverly rendered by Jim Henson’s Creature Shop, emphasising the lifeless characters’ big, piercing eyes and menacingly cheery expressions — an affectionate nod to the mechanised denizens of bygone American chains like Chuck E. Cheese — the filmmakers do not fully capitalise on their throwback conceit. For parents or kids who had to endure trips to such restaurants, there is plenty of satire to be had at the expense of such unnervingly kitschy children’s entertainment – but Freddy’s instead takes itself seriously, with dire consequences.

It has become a joke among horror aficionados how much genre directors dutifully insist that their films are actually searing explorations of trauma, and indeed Freddy’s crafts a tortured backstory involving Mike’s inability to forgive himself for his brother’s kidnapping. A series of uncompelling flashbacks and dream sequences are meant to flesh out his pain, but they mostly play like knockoffs from far more effective horror films. Just as dramatically fruitless is the script’s strained mystery, in which shy Abby holds the secret to the robotic creatures’ ability to become sentient — and, perhaps, provide a clue to Garrett’s whereabouts. Freddy’s is the sort of predictable thriller in which a seemingly unimportant side character will end up having an outsized impact in the final reels; a twist that is easy to spot early on.

Hutcherson tries to play Mike as a broken young man, but this reluctant hero is far too one-dimensional. That’s equally true of Elizabeth Lail as Vanessa, a cop who takes a shine to Mike – although it’s clear from the outset that she may know more about Freddy Fazbear’s murky past than she is letting on. The film additionally gets bogged down in a muddled subplot involving Mike’s vindictive Aunt Jane, who wants custody of Abby, forcing Mary Stuart Masterson to portray an unappealing cardboard villain.

Much of this could be forgiven if Freddy’s had enjoyable horror sequences, but there is rarely much ingenuity in these animatronic critters coldly dispatching the luckless humans who cross their path. Marc Fisichella’s production design nicely captures the dated look of 1980s theme restaurants, giving the setting a tacky feel that is suitably unsettling. But the picture lacks the funhouse glee that should be in abundance for a story about sinister robot animals trying to kill Mike when they are not busy moving in sync to dopey ‘80s hits like The Romantics’ ‘Talking In Your Sleep.’ These machines may have broken down over time, but they are not nearly in as much disrepair as Freddy’s itself.