Bryan Fuller’s leap into feature filmmaking with the macabre fairy tale Dust Bunny shares a surprising lineage with the grim world of Thomas Harris’s Hannibal Lecter. The most conspicuous bridge is Mads Mikkelsen, who transitions from the sophisticated cannibalism of the Hannibal TV series to the role of a cryptic, soft-spoken assassin known simply as the “Intriguing Neighbor.”
However, the deeper connective tissue between this film and Harris’s psychological thrillers remains hidden until Fuller peels back the layers. Dust Bunny centers on young Aurora (Sophie Sloan), a child who recruits her professional killer neighbor to hunt down the predatory entity that devoured her parents. While the Hannibal novels are famous for their visceral brutality—featuring everything from lobotomized meals to porcine executions—Dust Bunny was conceived as a “gateway horror” for younger audiences, despite its R rating and body count.
Speaking with Polygon, Fuller explained that the two works are united by their exploration of childhood resilience and the cold reality of surviving trauma.
“I’ve always been captivated by stories where children must become their own saviors,” Fuller remarked. He pointed to classic cinematic examples like the resourceful protagonists of The Goonies or Short Round from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. “In Temple of Doom, Indy and Willie would be lost if not for a small boy taking decisive action. Even The Shining is fundamentally about a child navigating his own survival. I find that self-reliance incredibly moving.”
This philosophy led Fuller back to an unexpected source: Francis Dolarhyde, the tragic antagonist of Harris’s 1991 novel Red Dragon. Though Dolarhyde is a terrifying serial killer, Fuller finds his origin story deeply resonant. “There’s a profound line in Red Dragon about Dolarhyde learning something at a tender age that most adults don’t grasp until mid-life: ‘No one is coming to save you.’”
Dolarhyde’s path was forged in neglect and cruelty, twisting his survival instincts into violence. He became his own “hero,” albeit a monstrous one.
In contrast, Aurora in Dust Bunny represents a more hopeful iteration of that same struggle. Threatened by both a literal monster and a shadowy organization of assassins, she refuses to remain a victim. Instead of waiting for a rescue that may never come, she ventures into the concrete jungle of New York to find an ally. Her journey doesn’t just save her life; it fundamentally alters the soul of the hitman she employs.
True to Fuller’s signature style, innocence is rarely absolute. Much like Abigail Hobbs in Hannibal, Aurora possesses a latent darkness. The film suggests her relationship with her parents was far from idyllic, hinting that the “monster” might have been a manifestation of her own need for liberation. Both Fuller and Harris examine how neglect strips away childhood, forcing a premature evolution into a survivor.
“Whether we are eight or thirty-eight, many of us are still waiting for a hero,” Fuller concludes. “Reclaiming your own power and realizing that you are the hero of your own story—that is a narrative worth telling.”
Dust Bunny is currently available for rent or digital purchase on major platforms, including Prime Video, Apple TV, and YouTube.
Source: Polygon
