Continuing in the not-so-grand tradition of horror shorts adapted into feature films, Come Play attempts to breathe more life into its premise of a gangly boogeyman named Larry. Operative word being “attempts”. Jacob Chase writes and directs, stretching his five-minute viral short “Larry” into 100 minutes of humdrum haunting. Stretching and pulling to fill it with air but not necessarily more flavor, Chase works his material like taffy. And like the sugary confection, Come Play is little more than horror empty calories, another slickly-made PG-13 studio dud that fails to scare up much reaction or leave much of an impression.

The film begins with a tired scene. Oliver (Azhy Robertson) lays in bed at night. Scrolling through his phone, Oliver stumbles upon a Babadook-like children’s e-book called ‘Misunderstood Monsters’, which features a gangly skeletal creature named Larry. The content is sinister, with gothic illustrations and the story of a monster who will do anything for a friend. The lights begin to flicker and Oliver chucks his phone aside. The door creaks open. The wind whistles and the uncertainty of lolling shadows breathe fear into Oliver. Larry is here.

If it feels like you’ve seen this scene a million times, it’s because Chase doesn’t attempt to really distinguish his vision of a horror story from those that came before him. The only thing that does differentiate his story from countless others is his protagonist Oliver, who is on the autism spectrum. The elementary-aged Oliver is non-verbal and has to communicate through a smartphone using a PECS (Picture Exchange Communication System) program. Both in terms of inclusivity and potential plot devices, this is a genuinely novel idea but one that’s not taken full advantage of. Oliver’s inability to verbally communicate and emotionally teether to his family and peers should be the crux of the film but ends up being little more than window-dressing.

Oliver’s reliance on electronic forms of communication opens up the door for Larry, a creature who travels through devices to ensnare lonely children with overabundant screen time. Though this pitch might be a viable fable for parents trying to scare their iPhone-wielding youngins indulging in too much data to put their phones down, the device-hopping boogeyman strikes small amounts of fear as realized here.

While I appreciate the attempt to funnel a monster through the lens of a child on the autism spectrum, Come Play relies heavily much on genre platitudes and little on novel turns. Flickering lights, fuzzy home video, gotcha editing, tired jump scares; it’s all been there done that; a pale, tame rehash that misses the opportunity to really dig into what makes this particular story unique. When it comes to moving the plot forward, the dialogue tends towards clunky exposition dumps that even the veteran skill of performers Gillian Jacobs and John Gallagher Jr. fail to sell.

The generic title is a good indication of the generic story that unfolds, though Come Play isn’t all bad. A kind of late-stage Amblin knockoff, Come Play’s combination of childlike wonder and storybook horror gives the impression of E.T. crossed with The Babadook and features solid creature design that gives Chase’s kind-of-ridiculous creation enough of a threatening bite to unsettle younger audiences. Though most fans of the genre will likely find this a scare-free event that fails to elevate the blood pressure. The somber and satisfying ending makes the cliches that preceded that much more worthwhile, but just barely.

CONCLUSION: A Halloween scare-fest this is not, but it’s also not totally rotten. ‘Come Play’ features a solid-enough turn from Gillian Jacobs as a mom struggling to connect with her son on the autism spectrum but the total lack of scares and generic plotting makes this disposal studio horror movie junk.