Ah, Something Beneath. A title so vague it sounds like the name of a forgotten Creed song, and a movie so bland it makes actual pond scum look like Shakespeare. Directed by David Winning—who should really consider renaming himself David Barely-Getting-By—this is the fifth entry in Syfy’s legendary Maneater film series, a franchise dedicated to proving that nature documentaries should never, ever get drunk at a script meeting.
This installment stars Kevin Sorbo, who spends the film looking like he wandered in from a canceled Hercules convention and decided to stay because there was free craft services. What we’re given is an eco-horror thriller that’s part monster movie, part PSA about the dangers of toxic goo, and part unintentional comedy about how low Canadian tax credits will let you sink. Spoiler: it sinks very deep.
The Opening Death: OSHA’s Worst Training Video
We begin at a construction site, where a poor schmuck named Dutch touches some black slime. Instead of suing his employer for unsafe working conditions, he hallucinates bulldozers chasing him like a Looney Tunes short gone grimdark. He stumbles, lands on rebar, and skewers himself like a kebab at a backyard cookout. Naturally, his death is written off as “drinking on the job.” That’s right—forget the gallons of ominous slime or the bulldozers that somehow became demon trucks in his brain—nope, just drunk. Case closed.
This sets the tone: a film where any problem, no matter how slimy, will be met with denial, bureaucracy, and at least three hallucination montages.
One Year Later: Welcome to SlimeCon 2007
The Cedar Gates Conference Center opens on the exact ground that ate Dutch, because nothing says “five-star event venue” like building over an evil primordial snot colony. Enter Father Douglas Middleton (Kevin Sorbo), a priest so generic he might as well be named Father Stock Footage. He’s here for an environmental conference, because apparently priests also keynote on eco-science when they’re not busy with exorcisms and bingo nights.
There’s also Khali Spence, an event coordinator with a tragic backstory involving her Ojibwe grandmother and a magic necklace that looks like it was bought at a gas station gift shop. She and Sorbo share awkward flirtations between hallucinations of killer dogs and ooze monsters. Romance has never been slimier.
The Deaths: Brought to You by Hallucinations and Bad Editing
People start dropping like flies—or, more accurately, like flies who landed in a puddle of tar and couldn’t get out. Here are some highlights:
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Eugene Herman: A keynote speaker with asthma, sucked into a slime pit and suffocated. Honestly, he looked relieved.
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Mikaela Strovsky: An influencer before influencers existed, covered in slime, records a vlog, hallucinates an eyeless grandma, then smashes mirrors and fatally cuts her wrists. The slime didn’t kill her—the screenplay did.
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Reggie and Hank: Maintenance bros who go into the sewers, find a slime colony the size of Detroit, and get eaten alive. At least they didn’t have to finish unclogging toilets.
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Symes (the manager): Turns slime-crazy and attacks people until he’s shot. HR is going to have a nightmare with that incident report.
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Jackson Deadmarsh: Ex-cop, current head of security, and future barbecue. He sacrifices himself by igniting methane gas, proving once again that all sewers in horror films are 50% feces, 50% explosives.
The monster itself? Imagine Nickelodeon’s Gak had a baby with black mold, then hired a fog machine as its agent.
The Science: Or, “How to Pretend Goo is a Hive Mind”
We meet Dr. Connolly, a scientist who looks like he’s been camping in the woods since The X-Files got canceled. He explains that the slime is “a single organism with a hive mind, like ants.” Which is a fancy way of saying, “We couldn’t afford CGI, so we’ll just call it a colony.” He delivers this with dead seriousness while covered in dirt, proving that no amount of science jargon can save you when your monster looks like expired barbecue sauce.
The Magic Necklace Solution
As the climax oozes into view, Father Sorbo and Khali descend into the sewers, where the slime’s “heart” is revealed: a giant fleshy pit with a mouth. (Fun fact: that’s also how this movie feels to watch.) Connolly falls in, because of course he does. Khali nearly follows, but she remembers her grandmother’s Ojibwe prayer and waves her necklace at the goo.
Yes, the final weapon against a billion-year-old sludge monster is grandma’s jewelry and a bedtime chant. The slime… chills out. Because nothing calms interdimensional tar demons like cultural appropriation-lite mysticism delivered by a Canadian actress in a Hallmark-movie cadence.
Kevin Sorbo: From Hercules to Hall Monitor
Sorbo’s Father Middleton spends most of the movie looking like he’s trying to remember if his paycheck cleared. His big heroic contribution? Standing around, looking concerned, and occasionally yelling “Khali!” whenever she runs off. At one point, he confesses his hallucination was that she died—which is really just a metaphor for his acting career.
By the end, he kisses Khali in front of an ambulance, because nothing gets you in the mood like sewer gas and watching your coworkers dissolve into pudding.
The Ending: The Ooze Will Return (But Please Don’t)
Just when you think it’s safe to forget this film ever existed, more slime oozes out of a manhole. Because sequels, baby. (Don’t worry—there wasn’t one. Even Syfy has limits.)
Why Something Beneath Belongs Below the Bargain Bin
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The Monster Is Goo. Not a crocodile, not a shark, not even a bear on steroids—just goo. Evil Jell-O. Sinister pudding. An oil spill with bad vibes.
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Hallucinations as a Budget Trick. Instead of showing the monster, we get endless hallucination sequences. It’s like watching a Goosebumps episode directed by someone who really wanted to be David Lynch but only had $15 and a bottle of NyQuil.
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The Acting. Kevin Sorbo phones it in so hard, you can hear the dial tone. Natalie Brown tries, but she’s stuck with dialogue like “My grandmother’s prayer will calm it!” which no human can deliver without laughing.
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The Pacing. The film somehow drags despite constant deaths, because none of them matter. It’s like watching security footage of people tripping in a mall, only with more ooze.
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The Message. Clearly, it wants to be an eco-thriller about respecting nature. But when nature is represented by slimy snot that kills people with hallucinations, the message feels more like “Recycle, or boogers will eat you.”
Final Thoughts
Something Beneath is the cinematic equivalent of stepping in gum on a hot sidewalk: sticky, unpleasant, and utterly pointless. It tries to be a cautionary tale about messing with the environment, but it’s really just an excuse to watch Kevin Sorbo sulk while black goo does the acting for him.
If you’re desperate for eco-horror, watch The Ruins or Annihilation. If you’re desperate for Kevin Sorbo, watch Hercules: The Legendary Journeys. And if you’re desperate for slime, just microwave a Jell-O cup and stare at it—it’ll be scarier, and shorter.
