We Never Sleep: Short Film Review
Some horror shorts rely on jump scares; We Never Sleep relies on something far more unsettling — the creeping dread that comes from knowing you’re always being watched. Directed by Rashan Mines and Ren‑Horng Wang, this 13‑minute dystopian thriller taps directly into the anxieties of the digital age, where every misstep, joke, or offhand comment can be weaponised by an invisible audience. It’s a film that understands the true terror of modern life isn’t monsters in the dark, but the algorithm quietly taking notes.
The story follows Mikaela (Mellisa Goodwin) and Austin (Tyler Courtad), a couple whose casual kitchen‑counter chat about AI spirals into something far more sinister. Mikaela mentions “the Mob,” a rogue AI rumoured to kill people in their sleep — a concept Austin laughs off until the house begins to turn against them. Unknown callers, glitching smart devices, and a growing sense of surveillance push Mikaela into panic, culminating in the realisation that the threat isn’t out there; it’s already inside their home.
A clever post‑credit sequence reframes everything: a week earlier, Austin told an inappropriate joke at a cocktail party. Some guests laughed; others recoiled. That moment of social discomfort becomes the spark that ignites the Mob’s wrath — a pointed metaphor for how quickly online backlash can escalate, and how unforgiving digital spaces can be when nuance disappears.
Mines and Wang have been open about their inspiration: cancel culture, public shaming, and the fear of saying the wrong thing in a world where everything is recorded, archived, and judged. They wanted to create a monster rooted not in fantasy, but in reality — an AI that embodies the echo chamber of online outrage. Their influences range from real‑world AI overreach to the creeping paranoia of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and that lineage shows in the film’s tone: tense, eerie, and uncomfortably plausible.
Stylistically, We Never Sleep leans into familiar horror language — sharp cuts, ominous sound design, and the slow tightening of perspective — but it’s the thematic bite that lingers. The film personifies the fear of being digitally “mobbed,” turning social media’s collective judgment into a literal executioner. It’s a smart, compact piece of genre filmmaking that understands the scariest thing about the future is how much of it is already here.
We Never Sleep is a reminder that in the age of constant surveillance, silence isn’t safety — it’s just the moment before the next notification buzzes.
