If you’ve ever wanted to watch a supernatural horror film that feels like an Ambien overdose filmed through a black sock, The Man in the Shadows is the cinematic nightmare for you. Directed by Joshua Fraiman, this 2015 Canadian snooze-fest tries to turn sleep paralysis into a terrifying exploration of fear and addiction. Instead, it’s 88 minutes of emotional paralysis.
It’s based on the phenomenon of “shadow people,” those dark figures supposedly seen during bouts of sleep paralysis. Millions claim to have experienced it, but only one brave soul thought, “What if this became a movie with all the energy of a NyQuil commercial?”
The Plot: Sleep Paralysis, the Movie
Our protagonist, Rachel Darwin (Sarah Jurgens), is a newlywed, pregnant, and apparently allergic to joy. She’s also addicted to prescription drugs — which might explain her acting choices. She’s plagued by nightmares of a mysterious shadow man in a fedora (because evil apparently shops at Macy’s) who appears to surgically remove a deformed baby from her womb.
Nothing says “fun Friday night horror flick” like supernatural obstetrics.
Rachel’s husband, Scott (Nick Baillie), is an attorney who spends most of the film gaslighting her and drinking heavily — so, you know, just your average horror husband. He chalks up her visions to “stress” and “woman things,” which, given the script, is probably the most realistic dialogue in the film.
Rachel joins a group therapy session for addicts and meets William (Adam Tomlinson, who also wrote this mess), a man whose hobby is stalking sleep-deprived women and calling it research. He claims the shadow people are “interdimensional beings feeding on human souls,” which is also how I describe film producers who greenlight movies like this.
The story lumbers forward as Rachel’s nightmares bleed into her waking life — which is fitting, since I too started hallucinating halfway through.
The Hat Man Cometh
The titular “Man in the Shadows,” also known as the “Hat Man,” is supposed to be a terrifying figure glimpsed at the edge of your vision, a supernatural stalker feeding on fear. In this movie, he looks like a divorced magician who haunts community theaters.
He doesn’t stalk so much as he lingers, standing in doorways like someone trying to remember if they left the stove on. Whenever he appears, the soundtrack blasts the same stock “horror stinger” noise that SyFy uses when an intern spills coffee on the equipment.
He never says a word, never does much beyond slow-motion stabbings, and yet somehow manages to overstay his welcome. Even death by fedora feels anticlimactic.
Acting: Method Sleepwalking
Sarah Jurgens gives the kind of performance that makes you check your own pulse to make sure you’re still alive. She spends the film’s runtime oscillating between “mildly panicked” and “slightly more panicked,” which might sound like a range, but trust me — it isn’t.
Her facial expressions suggest she’s perpetually trying to remember where she parked.
Adam Tomlinson, pulling double duty as both actor and writer, plays William as a human Ambien tablet. He speaks in long, monotone lectures about “interdimensional beings” like a philosophy major on a bad trip. If this character were any flatter, he’d be a piece of drywall.
Nick Baillie as Scott does his best impression of every unsupportive husband in horror history — angry, drunk, and conveniently useless. There’s a scene where he tries to rape his wife out of frustration, proving that this movie isn’t content with being boring; it also wants to be deeply unpleasant.
The Horror: Fear by PowerPoint
Let’s be clear — The Man in the Shadows is not scary. It’s not even mildly spooky. It’s the kind of movie that mistakes dim lighting for atmosphere and whispering for tension.
The cinematography looks like someone filmed through a dirty aquarium, the color palette stuck perpetually on “sad grey,” and the editing could generously be described as “student film chic.”
Every time Rachel experiences a nightmare, the film signals it by slowing down the frame rate, blurring the image, and turning up the volume on what I can only assume is a man rubbing a cello with a piece of sandpaper.
The dream sequences are indistinguishable from the real ones, not because the movie is clever, but because the cinematographer clearly lost interest after day three of shooting.
The Writing: Based on a True Story (Unfortunately)
Writer-actor Adam Tomlinson claims the film was inspired by his own encounter with the Hat Man, as well as “millions of other people around the world.” After seeing the final product, I can only assume the Hat Man visited to beg him not to make this movie.
The script reads like a Wikipedia summary stretched into dialogue. Characters don’t speak to each other so much as take turns reading WebMD aloud. Every scene involves someone saying, “I think I’m losing my mind,” followed by a close-up of Sarah Jurgens staring at nothing for 20 seconds.
By the time Rachel starts astral projecting, the film completely collapses into nonsense. There’s a séance, a murder, a stabbing, and at least one conversation that sounds like it was improvised by two people on Ambien.
The final act tries to twist its way into profundity but just ends up tying itself into a noose of confusion. The big revelation? The Hat Man’s real power is inconsistency. Sometimes he’s a hallucination, sometimes a ghost, sometimes an allegory for addiction, and always a colossal waste of time.
The Pacing: A Marathon in Quicksand
If The Man in the Shadows were any slower, it would be a still photograph. Scenes drag on long after they’ve made their point — assuming they ever had one. The movie mistakes repetition for suspense, showing us the same nightmare imagery again and again, as if to say, “You still awake? Didn’t think so.”
At one point, Rachel stares at her reflection for over a minute. I did the same thing in my TV screen, wondering what life choices led me here.
By the hour mark, you’re not rooting for Rachel to survive — you’re rooting for the Hat Man to end it quickly, for both of you.
The Ending: Fade to Meh
The climax (if we can call it that) involves astral projection, stabbing, reincorporation of trauma, and an actual stabbing that feels more like a mercy killing — for the audience. Rachel dies, her husband gets blamed, and the Hat Man photobombs a police interrogation room. Roll credits.
It’s supposed to be chilling. It’s not. It’s more like being tapped on the shoulder by someone asking, “Hey, did you drop this plot thread?”
Even the final shot of the Hat Man lurking behind the detective feels less like a scare and more like a bored extra realizing the camera’s still rolling.
The Real Shadow: Boredom Itself
The Man in the Shadows is the cinematic equivalent of sleep paralysis — you’re trapped, you can’t move, and something terrible is standing over you. Only, in this case, the terrible thing is the movie itself.
It wants to be The Babadook but ends up as The Blandadook. It mistakes mood for storytelling, whispering for subtlety, and low lighting for fear.
The Hat Man is supposed to represent trauma, guilt, addiction, and fear of motherhood. Instead, he represents the moment you check your phone to see how much time is left.
Final Verdict: Hat’s Off, Movie’s Over
There’s a great horror film to be made about sleep paralysis — one that captures that helpless, waking terror. The Man in the Shadows isn’t it. It’s a lifeless, self-serious, sleep-deprived slog that makes insomnia look appealing.
It’s less a haunting and more a nap with bad lighting.
Rating: 1 fedora out of 5.
It’s not the shadows you’ll fear — it’s pressing play.
