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A monstrous murder-for-hire plot is child's play in the delightful Dust Bunny

TV visionary Bryan Fuller makes his debut feature with a macabre yet whimsical tale of kids and killers.

A monstrous murder-for-hire plot is child's play in the delightful Dust Bunny

The drudgery of adult life tends to, over time, dull our baseline primordial senses. Instead of feeling acutely aware of the danger of a stalking predator—something that motivates an innate fear of darkness—we instead stress about bills, childcare, the IRS. These bureaucratic social constructs take the form of the boogeyman for many, but even so, sometimes that sense of being watched still raises the hair on the back of one’s neck, though we usually dismiss it as an irrational, involuntary response. But the baseless childhood fear of a monster lurking under the bed becomes a tangible threat to those of all ages in Dust Bunny, the directorial debut from visionary TV writer and showrunner Bryan Fuller. Toning down the blood-drenched viscera of Hannibal while channeling the morbid yet whimsical stylings of Pushing Daisies, Fuller’s inaugural film effort is completely in tune with his previous narrative interests, though this time filtered through the gaze of a precocious child.

Aurora (adorable newcomer Sophie Sloan), like most kids, feels uneasy at night. She swears that she hears the floorboards under her bed creak and groan with the movement of a terrifying beast that resides below. She’s discerned that if someone sets a single toe on the floor during the evening, the monster will spring free and devour them whole. Her horrified screams aren’t enough to convince her less-than-nurturing foster parents, who from the doorway coldly instruct the girl to go back to bed. But one night, after failing to heed her advice, they’re attacked by a huge, hairy creature, leaving her without a family once again. Forced to fend for herself (albeit in a cushy luxury apartment), Aurora grows desperate. During one of her lonely evenings, she discreetly follows a mysterious neighbor (Mads Mikkelsen, reuniting with Fuller) from across the hall. She sees him slay what she believes is a mythical dragon, and an idea pops into her head: she could get this guy to murder her monster.

As Aurora and this secretive stranger, who remains nameless, get to know each other, they are indoctrinated into each other’s respective realities. The girl grows up fast, now preoccupied with adult problems like making money, navigating the prying eyes of the state (here taking the form of a nosy social worker), and outmaneuvering seedy individuals who hope to exploit her—and perhaps eliminate her altogether. Meanwhile, Mikkelsen’s character gradually comes to accept that the girl’s claims are true, an otherwise preposterous development for a hardened criminal who has made a living off of killing. You see, instead of a dragon, the man actually slaughtered a Chinese crime syndicate clad in costume. Now their associates (among them David Dastmalchian, always a treat) seek revenge. In the duo’s attempt to vanquish Aurora’s monster, they must also battle with a legion of human enemies the man has recently made, causing him to take an increasingly more protective, parental approach with the girl. 

It’s easy to see why the man has no interest in virtually adopting the orphan, who becomes an instant target for the nefarious actors who wish to snuff him out. Even his comrade (a wonderfully expressive Sigourney Weaver) floats the idea of just killing the kid, as the risk of her blabbing about his illicit profession proves high. Aurora truly can’t catch a break, and her newfound guardian angel of sorts—who she claims she wished for on a particularly perilous night—is hardly charmed by her. A running bit involves him failing to pronounce her name (partially owed to his Danish accent) despite her multiple attempts to correct him, which should be a frustrating reoccurrence but, instead, is deeply endearing. As opposed to a saccharine treatise on the inherent parental instincts that dwell inside every adult, Fuller paints a picture of misfits who find family in each other against all odds. They publicly play the part of father and daughter because that is what society is trained to see; in reality, they are more partners in crime than parent and child.

The melding of Aurora and her neighbor’s worlds becomes a central component of the production design, which is stunning in its juxtaposition of kitsch and grit. Even in the man’s sparse, depressing apartment, Aurora manages to locate a truly miraculous taxidermy chicken lamp—glib in anyone else’s hands, but downright magical in Fuller’s. She rapidly flicks the switch, causing the lightbulb emerging from its cloaca to glow and dim. Describing this object makes it sound weird and creepy, but it’s much cuter than you’d expect. Aurora’s world, on the other hand, is ornate and fanciful. In order to avoid stepping on the floor, she pushes herself around the apartment on a bronze, hippo-shaped ottoman, using a plush unicorn riding stick as an oar. Yet there is a sinister overlay to the space as well—her pink-accented bedroom feels menacing in the dark, her charming plush dolls suddenly appearing to grimace rather than smile. It’s a calculated effort from Dust Bunny production designer Jeremy Reed, whose credits include other nightmare-inspired projects like Gretel & Hansel and Hard Candy. To make a place appear to possess the comforts of home and a disquieting supernatural threat is no small feat. 

For those hoping for Hannibal-lite (and praying for a fourth season a full decade after its sudden cancellation), Dust Bunny is not the film for you. But those still curious to see how Fuller translates an original vision to screen will not be disappointed. Having only previously helmed episodes of Shudder’s Queer For Fear docuseries, it’s impressive to see him tackle a directorial project with so many moving parts—among them monster puppetry, plenty of VFX, and a fresh child actor—and with so much confidence. Perhaps after creating several revered pieces of cult media, it’s easy for Fuller to trust his gut and not sweat the prospect of broad commercial appeal. In true Fuller fashion, Dust Bunny will undoubtedly find its loyal audience, likely championed by a cadre of self-identified misfit toys. 

Director: Bryan Fuller
Writer: Bryan Fuller
Starring: Mads Mikkelsen, Sophie Sloan, Sheila Atim, David Dastmalchian, Sigourney Weaver
Release Date: December 12, 2025

 
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