There is a somewhat unsettling feeling about being told not to look at something. Tell an apartment full of people not to look at the moon and, naturally, somebody is going to be tempted… particularly when others are telling you to go ahead and ‘look at the moon’…

That simple idea provides the hook for director Lauren Robyn’s indie horror ‘Wait ‘Til Dawn’, which gathers five friends in an apartment to witness an extraordinarily rare lunar eclipse coinciding with an equally unusual planetary alignment. They’re a mixed group, including members of the LGBTQ community and gaming geeks, with Lydia (Heather Michelle), one member’s new girlfriend, rounding out our cast of characters, who’s meeting the wider circle for the first time on what will prove to be a particularly bad night.

The celestial spectacle quickly takes a sinister turn when emergency alerts begin arriving on everyone’s phones, warning them not to look at the moon. At the same time, other strange, unexplained messages are telling them the exact opposite: go outside and look up at the moon. It’s a simple but effective piece of unease. Who—or what—is sending the second set of messages, because they’re not sounding like anyone’s friends or parent’s usual style of message. And why does it apparently want people to see what is happening in the sky?

Television broadcasts offer little reassurance. News reports show people across the country falling into a mysterious trance-like state as normal society begins to unravel, before the broadcasts themselves start disappearing. Whatever is happening isn’t confined to the city outside and the friends gradually realise their apartment has changed from a viewing-party venue into a refuge from something far more sinister.

It’s here that Wait ‘Til Dawn makes effective use of its limited scale. Rather than attempt to depict a growing apocalyptic scenario that it clearly doesn’t have the budget to show, it largely leaves the destruction beyond the apartment walls. The outside world reaches the characters through its emergency alerts, television news broadcasts and ominous sounds from the streets below. It’s an economical approach that, at times, makes the unknown events outside more unsettling than anything the film could have explicitly shown.

Inevitably, however, the threat doesn’t remain outside.

As members of the group try to work out exactly what is happening, the film introduces some effectively creepy imagery, particularly the glowing eyes of those affected by the mysterious phenomenon gathered outside the apartment building. It soon becomes apparent that this isn’t simply another conventional zombie outbreak scenario. There are suggestions of a hive mind and hints that those both outside and amongst our infected friends inside are somehow connected to something far older and more powerful.

This is where Wait ‘Til Dawn becomes a little more intriguing. Are the simultaneous eclipse and planetary alignment responsible? Has this extraordinarily rare celestial coincidence awakened something ancient or demonic? References to a mysterious entity known as the “Hungry One”, along with theories relating to ancient Egyptian gods and other mythological imagery, offer possible clues without ever providing a definitive explanation.

This uncertainty works to a point. There is something appropriately cosmic horror-like about ordinary people trying to comprehend a force completely beyond their understanding. Yet there is also a difference between deliberately leaving an audience with a mystery to wonder and ponder over and simply leaving pieces of the mystery unexplained. Wait ‘Til Dawn occasionally falls on the latter side of that divide, raising interesting questions that it never quite develops enough to make their absence of answers entirely satisfying.

The film is also less assured when attention shifts from the supernatural danger to the relationships between the friends within the apartment. As pressure mounts and fear escalates, this ever-growing force is able to start playing the friends off against one another as guilty secrets and past affairs begin spilling out, exposing fractures within the group. The dramatic potential in forcing friends carrying years of emotional baggage into a room together while the world apparently collapses around them, works to give a little more background to their relationships with each other.

Unfortunately, some of these conversations and revelations run too long, slowing down the momentum just when the escalating threat both inside and outside should be tightening its grip. Certain performances can also feel a little amateurish during the more dialogue-heavy sequences, although the ensemble cast generally fare better when panic takes over and the apartment becomes a pressure cooker and battleground.

Robyn does regain some momentum as the danger intensifies. Questions about who can still be trusted, what exactly is happening outside and what the affected ultimately want give the later stages a stronger sense of urgency. The film’s final moments wisely avoid offering any easy reassurance. The rising sun and dawn may suggest safety, but whether daylight can undo what has happened is another question entirely.

The conclusion feels appropriate given everything that precedes it, although anyone hoping for a tidy and definitive explanation of the night’s events may come away frustrated. The film leaves us with theories rather than answers, allowing its celestial, supernatural and mythological possibilities to remain just that: possibilities.

As a low-budget feature, however, Wait ‘Til Dawn deserves to be considered in the context of what Robyn and her team achieve with limited resources. A confined location becomes an advantage rather than simply a financial constraint, while the contradictory communications, eerie glowing-eyed figures and the hint of cosmic horror give the film an identity beyond the familiar infection-survival style templates of other movies falling into that genre.

Some uneven performances, talk-heavy scenes and unresolved mythology prevent Wait ‘Til Dawn from fully capitalising on a moderately strong premise. But there are some effective ideas here and enough resourcefulness behind the camera to suggest Lauren Robyn is a filmmaker worth watching.

Score 5 out of 10

Rating: UR

Runtime: 5 min.

Directed By: Lauren Robyn

Written By: Killian Lock

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Craig Wade brings HorrorBuzz readers reviews fresh off the festival circuit, including Beyond Fest.