Sting is the right kind of bad, and although it is not good, I am here for it. I love the cheesy films that used to hit the drive-ins in the 60s, with nonsense premises and banana stories that make almost no sense. Sting is by no means a great film, full of plot holes and bad character choices, and more campy than scary, but it got to me in a way that I enjoyed. There is something charming about this little (big) spider movie, and even if I was yelling at the screen for more than half its runtime, I recommend it to anyone who likes this sort of thing.
The film’s concept feels very in line with many of the B-horror movies we all know and love: a young girl named Charlotte (Alyla Browne) discovers a strange spider egg that hatches into a seemingly harmless pet spider she named Sting. However, as her fascination with the creature grows, so does its size, rapidly transforming into a giant, flesh-eating monster that traps Charlotte, her family, and the eccentric residents of their rundown apartment building. There is very little of the movie you could not predict in the first few minutes, and you know what? That does not take away the fun.
Despite being a horror film about a man-eating spider, what sets Sting apart from other spider horror films is its focus on the emotional core of Charlotte’s story. Roache-Turner expertly explores themes of isolation, neglect, and the complexities of family dynamics, using the spider as a metaphor for Charlotte’s loneliness and her desperate need for connection. Browne’s performance as the rebellious yet vulnerable Charlotte is a standout, anchoring the film with a raw emotional honesty that grounds the outlandish premise. It would have lost its core if she had not been in the film, as her emotion and believable angst help sell the nonsensical premise.
Even if there are some scenes of emotional depth, make no mistake, Sting is, first and foremost, a creature feature, and it delivers on that front in spades. The practical effects work by the legendary Wētã Workshop is nothing short of astonishing, bringing the titular spider to life with a level of detail and realism that will send shivers down the spines of even the most hardened arachnophobes. While I was skeptical the film would actually come together, I was impressed once the film started to get underway and the effects were shown in full effect.
From the spider’s first appearance as a harmless-looking creature to its terrifying transformation into a towering, multi-legged horror, the effects team has created a truly memorable film monster. Sting revels in the creature’s grotesque physicality, with close-ups of its hairy legs, dripping fangs, and pulsing abdomen, which are sure to make audiences squirm in their seats. I love how the film feels very much like a throwback to the horror creatures of the 80s and 90s, giving it a tangible sense of believability that is often lost in the modern, glossy CGI creations seen in many films.
Even though the premise is ridiculous, Sting still manages to build tension by using sound and visual cues to build tension and deliver genuine scares. Roache-Turner expertly ratchets up the dread and suspense, using the claustrophobic confines of the apartment building to create a palpable sense of entrapment and vulnerability. The film’s sound design is also top-notch, with the skittering of the spider’s legs and its bone-chilling hisses and screeches adding an extra layer of unease.
Thankfully, much like the classic horror flicks we all know and love, Sting does not take itself too seriously. While there is plenty of family drama and true human emotion on display, there is also a healthy dose of dark humour to keep things interesting. Roache-Turner infuses the film with a wry, self-aware sensibility that never undermines the scares but instead adds a welcome layer of levity to the proceedings; think Evil Dead with spiders, and you have the tone the film is trying to hit.
Much of this humour comes from the eclectic ensemble of supporting characters, each with their own quirks and idiosyncrasies. From the well-meaning but hapless stepfather Ethan (Ryan Corr) to the eccentric exterminator (Jermaine Fowler) who finds himself in over his head, the film’s cast of oddballs provides plenty of laughs amidst the chaos and carnage.
Sting feels like a love letter to the horror that has come before and potentially inspired it. The film is filled with references and homages to classic creature features and arachnid-themed horror movies. From the obvious nods to films like Arachnophobia and Eight Legged Freaks to more subtle winks and nods, Roache-Turner’s film is a veritable treasure trove of Easter eggs for genre aficionados to discover and appreciate. Even the title of the movie is a nod to Tolkien, the franchise that put the Wētã Workshop on the map.
Yet, despite its reverence for the horror canon, Sting never feels derivative or like a mere retread of familiar territory. There is a vision at the heart of the movie, and even though it feels very much like the low-budget creature features we all loved from late-night television, it never feels like a derivative copy and manages to feel fresh and interesting, even as it dumps buckets of blood and viscera as the spider goes on its killing rampage.
Sting is a film that knows what it is and leans into it. It may not be a cinematic masterpiece, but it does not try to be one. It is an entertaining film about a space spider, and as long as you leave your logic at the door, it works. There are plenty of plot holes, ridiculous moments and pure nonsense that you have to sit through, but in the end, it is worth it.
Sting is a testament to the power of practical effects and the enduring appeal of well-crafted creature features. It’s a film that will leave audiences both delighted and disturbed and is sure to cement Roache-Turner’s reputation as a rising talent in the horror genre. So grab your arachnophobic friends, steel your nerves and prepare to be ensnared in Sting’s delightfully creepy and clever web of terror.
