Striking imagery, shattering sound design. Horrifying underground hole-creatures that trap and impersonate little kids. Lee Cronin’s The Hole in the Ground tells of a child wandering into the forest and returning home ‘changed’. While this concept may sound a tad generic upon first observation, but the film’s delivery uniquely captures the difficulties of motherhood, as well as the fear of an imposter invading one’s house and attempting to fit into daily life while remaining faintly… off.

A Creepy, Bone-Chilling Plot
The film follows a woman, Sarah, taking her son, Chris, to live in a new town after she has split from her husband; while driving through a dense, gloomy forest, they swerve the car to avoid an old, wrinkled woman covered in a cloak. At first contact, the old whispers softly to herself as she avoids conversation with Sarah. This scene effectively sets the mood for the rest of the film, especially its haunting strangeness and suspenseful pacing.
Eventually, Sarah finds a massive crater between the dark trees in the woods, causing recalling title of the film. She has dinner with friends, who explain that the old, wandering woman is Noreen, and that she presumably killed her own son after reacting hysterically when speaking to him.
Later, Chris suddenly goes missing. When he returns, his behavior begins to subtly (then drastically) change—he brings his mother flowers early in the morning, watches adult content (including war imagery, no less), and crawls on the ground eating spiders when he is normally afraid of them. One may question how the spider consumption is not enough for Sarah to immediately call the authorities, but she begins to blame her own mind, taking medications from a doctor and ignoring the creeping feelings inside her.

She witnesses terrifying scenes of her son snapping a man’s arm off and digging into the scar on her forehead, but attempts to chalk these up to her imagination and mental struggles. These scenes utilize Sarah’s doubts to hammer home points of maternal pain and the extreme pressures of motherhood, leading viewers to feel uneasy and perturbed.
When Sarah once more crosses paths with Noreen, the old woman screams that this version of Chris is not Sarah’s real son, before bashing her own head against the car window. This scene is bound to send chills down the viewer’s spine; nothing says “intense dread” like the acknowledgment of an imposter in one’s midst.
Sarah cannot avoid the realization that her son isn’t himself once she sees that he doesn’t understand their usual game. He pushes her with inhuman force, trying to stuff her into the ground once he knows the jig is up, but she successfully puts him to sleep and reveals his true form in a mirror.
The monster in the reflection is gray and twisted, a dreadful creature of the night that nobody should be forced to witness. Although the film’s willingness to reveal the creature’s design risks ruining the mysterious quality of the film, the gamble pays off; the otherworldly monster is glimpsed only for short moments or in shrouds of darkness, allowing the design to retain its novelty and unfamiliarity.
Sarah has no choice but to venture into the hole in the ground to save her son, where she finds him and crawls back to safety after facing the creatures’ hideout. One even alters its body to emulate Sarah as she faces it, giving viewers that creepy “uncanny valley” feeling deep in their chests. Once she escapes, she burns down the house with the imposter still inside and travels to safety with her real son, offering a tentative, uplifting ending that highlights ongoing paranoia.

A Decaying Autumn Atmosphere
What this film unquestionably does best is ambience. Sarah’s wardrobe primarily features orange, brown, and tan hues, chunky cardigans, and overalls that foster a sense of fall spookiness and heavily contribute to the atmosphere.
While the film’s pacing can occasionally feel slow (particularly in the first 30 or so minutes of the runtime), the creeping build of momentum in the film allows for a suspenseful atmosphere where the shocking, intense scares create far more of an astounding impact on viewers.
Furthermore, decay is highly prevalent in contributing to the mood of the film, as Sarah continuously scrapes old wallpaper from the crumbling walls of the house—the sound designers do a great job here; the sound feels akin to sharp nails on a filthy chalkboard, making viewers feel like they’re experiencing Sarah’s frustration and maternal struggles alongside her. That subtle “falling apart” feeling as the film progresses hints at both the growing tension with the intruder and the difficulties of single motherhood, especially when society refuses to validate women’s emotions, offering themes that go deeper than surface-level discomfort.
Overall, the film may feel slightly slow as it gets going, but once viewers sink their teeth into the meat of its content, they won’t be disappointed by its explorations of maternal questioning, increasing terror of the uncanny, and incredible, spooky atmosphere.
Directed by Lee Cronin.
The Hole in the Ground (2019) — Uncanny Monsters and Uncertain Motherhood - Malevolentdark
Director: Lee Cronin
Date Created: 1970-01-01 00:33