Sting is an inappropriate name for a film about a spider, up there with calling a film about space Gravity or a film about kung fu The Karate Kid (2010).

This Australian horror flick follows Charlotte (Alyla Browne), an angst-ridden, aptly named 12-year-old who adopts an alien spider and calls it Sting (after the Tolkien sword rather than the smug purveyor of white people reggae). But like its Geordie namesake, Sting outstays its welcome. Swelling to the size of a large dog, the spider commits the ultimate arachnofaux pas of eating all Charlotte’s neighbours.

The apartment building is home to a convoluted network of giant-spider-sized air vents, and an equally convoluted domestic situation that includes Charlotte’s grandmother, great aunt, mum, stepdad and half-brother. Despite being constantly surrounded by family, Charlotte is isolated by her strained relationship with her stepdad (Ryan Corr); a comic book artist and also the building’s superintendent.

This provides a lot of setup for not much story, failing to justify its contrived premise with any drama, scares or even humour. For all its references to Alien and Predator, the movie lacks its own identity, falling between the couch cushions of Spielbergian family fodder and throwback creature feature. And anyone expecting Aussie eight-legged freakery will feel stung by the conformist New York setting.

The film is plagued by dull aesthetic choices, lacking the camp of last year’s Cobweb or 2022’s Hatching, in which the bird creature was an extension of the protagonist and acted as her psychick protector. Here the spider kills indiscriminately with zero connection to its owner, who remains as oblivious as she is obnoxious. It makes for a spider movie without teeth – so maybe Sting is an appropriate title after all.