Sleepwalker (2026) Movie Review: A Stretched-Thin Psychological Labyrinth That Struggles to Wake From Its Own Tropes

As the calendar turns to January, horror fans have come to expect a specific kind of atmospheric, lower-budget thriller designed to fill the post-holiday cinematic void. This year, director Brandon Auman enters the fray with Sleepwalker (2026), a psychological thriller that seeks to turn the domestic space into a battleground of the subconscious. Produced by Verdi Productions and Appian Way—a company famously associated with Leonardo DiCaprio—the film arrives with a certain pedigree that suggests it might transcend its "January horror" label. Written and directed by Auman, the project is a deeply personal expansion of his own 2024 short film, drawing on themes of childhood trauma and the heavy weight of mourning.

The film stars Hayden Panettiere as Sarah Pangborn, a grieving artist and mother who is attempting to rebuild her life following a catastrophic car accident. This tragedy claimed the life of her young daughter, Aimee, and left her abusive, estranged husband, Michael (Justin Chatwin), in a persistent vegetative state. Now living with her mother, Gloria (Beverly D'Angelo), and her son, Holden, Sarah finds her nightly sleepwalking episodes escalating into terrifying, reality-blurring visions. As she navigates the wreckage of her marriage and the legal complexities of her husband's life support, the boundaries between her waking life and her darkest nightmares begin to dissolve entirely. Distributed by Brainstorm Media, Sleepwalker is scheduled to hit select theaters and On Demand platforms in the United States and Canada on January 9, 2026.

Story and Screenplay: The Fragile Expansion of a Seven-Minute Idea

When analyzing the narrative quality of Sleepwalker, the most glaring issue is the structural dissonance caused by stretching a concise short film into a feature-length script. Brandon Auman’s screenplay attempts to build a complex psychological structure around Sarah’s grief, but the resulting product often feels like it is operating in a state of "tedious jump scares" rather than genuine suspense. The film begins with a compelling premise that blurs the lines between nightmare and reality, using the hereditary nature of sleepwalking within Sarah’s family to suggest a deep-seated, almost supernatural malaise. However, the pacing and rhythm suffer significantly as the story progresses, frequently stalling Sarah’s emotional journey with repetitive sequences that seem more like filler than organic plot development.

One of the more unique, albeit divisive, elements of the script is Sarah’s specific reality-check mechanism. To distinguish between her dreams and her waking life, she counts her fingers: a trick that fails in the dream world when her hand sprouts extra digits or behaves like a surrealist prop. While this provides some striking visual imagery, the film returns to this "finger-counting" motif so frequently that it loses its impact and begins to feel like a "painfully obvious" narrative crutch. The themes of the story are ambitious, touching on PTSD, domestic abuse, and the processing of profound loss, yet critics have noted that the writing often treats these heavy topics with the depth of a cursory summary rather than a deep, meaningful investigation. The result is a story that has something worth following but lacks the necessary narrative depth to deliver an emotionally draining or effective conclusion.

Acting and Characters: A Duo in Search of a Stronger Script

Despite the script's shortcomings, the lead performances provide the film with much-needed sparks of life. Hayden Panettiere delivers a performance characterized by "visible commitment" and "grace under pressure," portraying Sarah’s descent into madness with a forceful, moving energy. She successfully conveys the heartache of a mother haunted by visions of her dead child, though some reviewers felt her high-intensity energy was occasionally mismatched with the film's more sluggish surroundings. Working alongside her, Beverly D'Angelo is a standout as Sarah’s mother, Gloria. D'Angelo brings a dryly comic, "exasperated" presence to the role, utilizing sly humor and perfectly timed eye-rolls to cut through the film's otherwise humorless tone. The chemistry between Panettiere and D'Angelo is arguably the best part of the movie: a strong, believable dynamic that feels like a genuine, if complicated, parent-child relationship.

The supporting cast is more of a mixed bag. Justin Chatwin plays Michael as a "one-note bully," a contemptible figure defined by his abusive past and his threatening presence in Sarah’s nightmares. While he serves as a functional antagonist, the performance lacks the nuance that might have made the "dangerous situation" feel more grounded. Mischa Barton appears as Michael’s sister, Joelle, but her motivations are often described as "inconsistent" or "confounding," leaving her character feeling more like a plot device than a fully realized person. On a brighter note, Lori Tan Chinn provides a brief but memorable appearance as Bai Zhao, a sardonic spiritualist friend of Gloria’s. Her "tornado-like" arrival for a séance sequence adds a much-needed layer of levity, even if the scene itself feels like an obvious attempt to pad the runtime.

Direction and Technical Aspects: Style Without Substance

In his feature film debut, director Brandon Auman demonstrates a clear talent for creating "creepy nightmare images" and "effective visual tricks," but he struggles to maintain a consistent sense of suspense. The director’s vision leans heavily on "fakeouts," frequently having Sarah wake up from apparent danger only to realize she is still trapped in a dream. While this is intended to replicate the disorienting feeling of a "nightmare on repeat," it eventually undermines the tension, making it difficult for the audience to stay invested in the stakes. Auman’s reliance on "loud sounds and harsh edits" to elicit a reaction from the viewer suggests a director who is scrambling to expand on a short idea without having enough narrative material to sustain the dread.

Technically, the film struggles to distinguish itself from the standard B-level studio horror fare. Sebastian Evans’ score is criticized for leaning on "stock eerie shock cues," and while Marcus Friedlander’s cinematography occasionally finds "unsettling optics," it often falls into "unflattering compositions". The production design by Sean Hoschek and the art direction by AJ Cardoza successfully make the Rhode Island locations feel varied, yet the film's overall visual storytelling often feels "formulaic". There is also a notable use of public domain films like Night of the Living Dead playing on televisions within the movie, a choice that some critics felt highlighted the production's limited budget rather than adding meaningful context. Ultimately, the special effects—specifically the CGI-assisted finger sprouting—often had the unintended effect of pulling viewers out of the story rather than terrifying them.

Trailer Sleepwalker (2026)

Music and Atmosphere: The Jarring Sound of Repetitive Scares

The overall mood of Sleepwalker is one of "unsettling deep dive" into grief, but this atmosphere is frequently interrupted by the film's technical choices. The tone is meant to be a psychological unraveling, a "harrowing account" of trauma that blurs the boundaries of reality. When the film leans into this "dreamscape" aesthetic, it can be quite effective, making the viewer feel "trapped in a dream" alongside Sarah. However, the audio experience often works against this intended subtlety. The reliance on sudden, high-volume orchestral stabs for "tedious jump scares" makes the atmosphere feel more like a "Haunted Mansion" ride than a serious exploration of the human psyche.

The sound design is heavily weighted toward "harsh edits" and "loud sounds," which are used to "pull a reaction out of viewers" when the visual scares fail to land. While this approach can keep an audience on edge, it lacks the sophistication found in other sleep-based horror films like Before I Wake. Instead of a mysterious, atmospheric hum, the soundscape of Sleepwalker is defined by its literalist approach to horror. The dialogue-heavy scenes between Sarah and her mother offer a more nuanced atmosphere, where "tough love" and support create a relatable domestic tension. Unfortunately, these character-driven moments are often drowned out by the film's insistence on being a "straightforward horror movie" that plays out every rehashed trope of the genre.

Strengths and Weaknesses

What works well:

• The Panettiere and D'Angelo Dynamic: The chemistry between these two is the film's undeniable highlight, offering a believable and often funny mother-daughter relationship.
• Lori Tan Chinn’s Cameo: Her sardonic and quirky performance as an exorcist friend provides a brief, much-needed burst of energy and humor.
• Initial Psychological Hook: The early parts of the film successfully establish an unsettling atmosphere that questions the nature of reality and grief.
• Hayden Panettiere’s Commitment: Even when the material falters, Panettiere brings a "grace under pressure" and a "forceful" energy to the lead role.
• Premise Potential: The core idea of using sleepwalking as a metaphor for being unable to move on from trauma is genuinely compelling.

What doesn't work:

• Narrative Over-Extension: The film clearly feels like a seven-minute short film "stretched thin" to meet feature-length requirements, leading to significant "tedious" filler.
• Repetitive Scare Tactics: The constant use of "fakeout" wake-up scenes and the "same jump scares" quickly drains the film of any real tension.
• Thin Supporting Characters: Michael is a "one-note bully," and Joelle’s motivations are "confounding," leaving much of the cast underutilized.
• Literalist "Dream Logic": The script’s approach to nightmares is often "woefully stuck in literalist overdrive," making the surreal elements feel "silly" rather than haunting.
• Ineffective Conclusion: The ending is described by many as "ineffective," "cynical," or "underwhelming," failing to provide a satisfying emotional payoff.

Final Verdict: A January Snoozer That Dreams of Being More

Rating: 2/5 stars

Overall, Sleepwalker (2026) is a frustratingly uneven experience that fails to capitalize on its high-pedigree production and talented cast. It is a film that "stretches a nightmare premise too thin," resulting in a psychological thriller that is more likely to put its audience to sleep than keep them awake with terror. While Brandon Auman shows promise in his ability to create "creepy nightmare images" and develop interesting character dynamics, the "stretchmarks of a laborious adaptation" are visible throughout the viewing experience. It settles for surface-level scares and repetitive tricks, ultimately feeling like a "derivative" rehash of better genre films like A Nightmare on Elm Street or Before I Wake.

Who should watch it? This film is primarily for die-hard fans of Hayden Panettiere or Beverly D'Angelo who want to see their undeniable chemistry on screen. It may also appeal to viewers who enjoy "B-level studio horror" and aren't bothered by a reliance on traditional jump scares and formulaic plotting.

Who might not enjoy it? Serious horror enthusiasts seeking a deep, nuanced exploration of psychological trauma will likely find Sleepwalker to be a "letdown". Those who are tired of the "it was just a dream" trope and repetitive "wake-up" fakeouts will find the eighty-eight-minute runtime to be "increasingly tedious".

Final Thoughts and Recommendation: I recommend Sleepwalker only as a background watch for those specifically interested in the lead actresses' dynamic. While there are flashes of a better, more "emotionally draining" film buried within, the final product is a "forgettable thriller" that doesn't warrant staying awake for. If you’re looking for a truly haunting exploration of grief, it is probably best to stay asleep for this one.