Surprisingly, most every single facet of Mimic: Sentinel–the third installment in the Mimic/Judas Breed horror series–is masterfully handled and skillfully conveyed. Sure, following the steadfast rule of diminishing returns (which is especially relevant when horror franchises are concerned), we anticipate overwrought action wrapped loosely around a nearly nonexistent storyline played by actors who will hopefully keep their day jobs. Yet, not only does first time director J.T. Petty quickly usurp our meager expectations, but he presents us with a very admirable, contemporary retelling of the Alfred Hitchcock’s masterpiece, Rear Window.

Marvin Montrose (Karl Geary), one of the few survivors of the cockroach-led disease called Strickler’s Outbreak–which was eradicated by an genetically-engineered termite/mantis hybrid predator dubbed the “Judas Breed”–is confined to his bedroom, now a hypersensitive due to the effects of the plight. Believing he might have witnessed a murder, he attempts to convince others of what he saw as he continues to speculate upon who the culprit might be.

Granted, as Petty himself humbly admits, the premise comes across as hokey at best–a remake of Rear Window in which Raymond Burr is replaced by giant bugs–but this is the true art of the director in that he takes a concept that could have gone wrong in so many ways and successfully manipulates what little materials he’s been given (the film was a low budget number which, being forced to stop and make note of this, goes to show how well Petty met his task). To beleaguer the point, the agenda was never to beat or even match the Master of Suspense at his own game because to even humor the notion that 1) you could succeed in this naïve task or, 2) even more foolishly, you could do so with giant bugs as your antagonists is sadly comical at best. Instead, as does Brian De Palma, Petty makes sure he doesn’t take too many liberties with the master’s material but nonetheless never digresses into hero-worship by parroting the original scene-by-scene (yes, I’m referring to Gus Van Sant here).

This being said, it is remarkable how financial necessity leads to creative invention as we are swiftly, just succinctly, issued our main character, his restricted circumstance, and how he arrived where he is. Even more commendable is the manner in which Petty creates and sustains a sense of claustrophobia throughout as he not only places Marvin (as well as his viewer) in a very small bedroom, but severs what little we have been allotted in half by ingeniously making the character a hypersensitive, thus positing the need to sever the room in half with plastic sheeting.

The understanding of, not only Hitchcock, but also of the psychology of suspense that Petty exhibits throughout thwarts the director’s inexperience as we watch as Marvin’s sickly nature becomes an asset–not only to other characters in that he serves as a “coal miner’s canary” for the Judas predators, meaning that at the slightest hint of the insects’ presence, Marvin begins to have an allergic reaction–but it compounds the tension as we anxiously anticipate the character gasping for breath at any minute.

Other aspects of the work which hint that we are in the presence of a potentially great talent is the fact that, unlike most horror sequels, Petty refuses to exploit his famed antagonist as he keeps the Judases veiled in shadow throughout, thus forcing us to focus upon the plights of the various characters, their relationships, and their various psychologies and motivations. Furthermore, and not unlike his cinematic paterfamilias, Petty does not permit the opportunity for humor to pass by the wayside yet makes sure that if he does permit a circumstance to play itself out comically, it is appropriate and lends to the story. As such, we have the irony that the insect which saved Marvin from Strickler’s disease is now threatening to kill him atop the inclusion of a pot smoking, sex phone operator who just happens to be a frail old lady.

Aside from the direction, both the sound and the score, created by Trip Brock and Henning Lohner respectively, almost outshine what is occurring onscreen. Not only that, but the exquisite use of color throughout the film, which appears to have come directly off of the palette of David Lynch, stands as a character in and of itself as it speaks, not only of the environment and the circumstance, but also directly parallels the life of our central character. However, as with most every work, there is at least one facet which fails to keep stride with its peers. In this regard, though sparsely over an hour long, the work could have been a bit more controlled structurally as well as more inventive in respect to the ending, which unabashedly echoes a pivotal scene–almost frame-by-frame–in Richard Stanley’s Hardware.

What do you get if you take a first-time feature length film director, hand him a horror sequel, and tell him to remake one of the masterpieces of cinema? Answer: A 99% chance of unwatchable celluloid. However, J.T. Petty instead gives us Mimic: Sentinel, the third installment in the sci-fi horror series, a stylish, well told homage which would do justice to a director of several decades. Ironically, Petty’s work serves another iconoclastic purpose outside of refusing to merely exploit the original upon which it is based: The film solidifies the sequels of the series as being better than their forerunner, which is a very rare event, not only in horror, but in the whole of film.

-Egregious Gurnow