Let's start with what works. Smith has always had a knack for squeezing tension out of confined spaces, and "Spider Island" gives him an entire resort to play with. The early set pieces - a spa treatment gone horribly wrong, a poolside ambush that turns a photo op into a bloodbath - land with a satisfying jolt. The practical spider work is largely effective; there's a creeping, skittering quality to the creatures that digital effects rarely capture, and the sound design does a lot of heavy lifting. When the film remembers it's a horror movie, it can genuinely get under your skin.
The problem is the comedy. Rose Williams brings a frazzled, likable energy to the putative lead, and Tim McInnerny is clearly having a ball as the resort's oily, over-eager manager. But the script's satire of influencer culture is blunt to the point of tedium. Yes, these people are vain and terminally online. Yes, they livestream their own deaths. We get it. The jokes rarely rise above the level of a punchline about "engagement," and the film keeps interrupting its own suspense to make sure we're laughing. Avani Gregg and Owen Warner do what they can with thinly drawn roles, but the ensemble never coheres into a group you genuinely care about - which, to be fair, may be the point, but it drains the finale of real tension.
At a reported budget that clearly wasn't generous, the film sometimes looks it. The resort sets are convincing enough, but a few sequences betray rushed post-production, and the third act leans hard on chaos to paper over thin staging. It's also worth noting that early audience reception has been lukewarm; the film currently sits at a 5.438/10 rating on TMDb, which feels about right. This is not a hidden gem so much as a serviceable Friday-night diversion.
