Dust Bunny

by Hope Madden

Dust Bunny is a macabre delight.

Imagine Guillermo del Toro meets Wes Anderson. Equal parts fanciful and gruesome, the film tells the tale of a precocious youth named Aurora (Sophie Sloan), who hires the neighbor in 5B (Mads Mikkelsen) to kill the monster that lives under her bed.

What a wonderful premise, and writer/director Bryan Fuller wastes not a frame of his feature film debut. The saturated colors and intricate patterns and textures of the set design, the ballet of horror that is his shadow imagery, the boldly whimsical costuming—all of it conjuring an amplified fairy tale. It’s tough to believe this remarkably confident feature is his first foray behind the camera.

Fuller’s casting is just as playful. Sloan delivers Roald Dahl’s Matilda by way of Wednesday Addams, braids and all. Mikkelsen’s adorably gruff, and watching his character mentally work through the mystery surrounding Aurora’s missing parents (eaten, he’s told) is fascinating. He and Sloan share a wonderful chemistry, never cloying for a second, and often darkly hilarious. Their banter is often priceless, Sloan landing lines with impeccably droll comic timing.

Speaking of hilarious, the great Sigourney Weaver is having a blast playing gleefully against type and shoplifting every second of screentime. All smiles, genuine joy, and murder, her character enjoys the pleasures life affords and accepts, with a smile, the reality of each situation. Again, usually murder.

Likewise, David Dastmalchian and Sheila Atim, with big support from an inspired costume designer, deliver entertaining weirdness.

Fuller’s premise could have taken many directions. It’s the sense of wonder Dust Bunny articulates that mesmerizes. But the writing doesn’t serve only to carry the visual splendor. It’s a clever script, edged with pathos and vulnerability, hinting at metaphor without ever submitting to it.