There is a certain kind of indie horror that knows better than to oversell itself. My First Year Off Campus falls squarely into that camp. It is a micro-budget film, even if it does everything it can to keep you from noticing, and that quiet confidence ends up being one of its biggest strengths.
Directed by Chad Bolling, who also co-wrote the film with Jon Beauchemin, My First Year Off Campus positions itself less as a straight horror movie and more as a sly thriller with a warped sense of humor. The film follows Sirene (Rachel Harvey) and Cayla (Kelsey Keely), two college students eager to start their first year living off campus. Their new rental comes with a landlord named Owen Block (Reid Schmidt), an eccentric Hitchcock obsessive with strict house rules, including no men staying over and absolutely no going into the garage. Naturally, that garage becomes the elephant in the room almost immediately.
Rather than leaning into gross-out moments or nonstop jump scares, Bolling opts for a slower burn. The humor is dry, sometimes strange, and often tongue-in-cheek. The film plays like a skewed parody of classic teen horror, almost as if it is channeling an early draft of The Slumber Party Massacre before things went fully exploitative. There is a subtle layer of commentary running beneath the surface about control, trust, and the uneasy power dynamics young people navigate when they are newly on their own. It never announces itself loudly, but it is there if you are paying attention.
The performances help sell that approach. Harvey and Keely are genuinely likable leads, bringing a believable mix of naivety and growing resolve as the situation spirals. Their chemistry grounds the film, making it easier to invest even when the story veers into the absurd. Reid Schmidt gives Owen an off-kilter presence that walks the line between awkward and unsettling without tipping too far into caricature. And yes, it is always good to see Lew Temple show up. As a local who fills the girls in on the house’s grim history, Temple adds just enough gravelly charm to elevate what could have been a throwaway role.
Where the film occasionally stumbles is in its technical limitations. Some scenes are lit so darkly that important details get lost, and the effects are uneven. That might be a stylistic choice meant to lean into the film’s lo-fi sensibilities, but it does not always work. There are moments where the movie wants to be funny or scary and lands somewhere in between. It is not consistently laugh-out-loud comedic, nor is it wall-to-wall terror. Instead, it exists in a strange middle space that will likely work better for some viewers than others.
That said, the film’s restraint feels intentional. Bolling seems more interested in building atmosphere and character than chasing easy scares. When the story finally reveals its hand involving Owen’s parents, Loretta and Hank, and the demonic possession angle comes into play, the movie becomes more openly ridiculous in a way that feels earned. The ending, in particular, is sharper, funnier, and more entertaining than you might expect based on the earlier stretch. It reframes much of what came before it and leaves you with the sense that the filmmakers were always in control of the tone, even when things felt understated.
My First Year Off Campus is not loud or flashy. It does not pretend to reinvent the genre, but it does find a new angle within a well-worn college slasher framework. It moves at a brisk pace, sneaks in a few genuinely creative jump scares, and shows real care for its protagonists before putting them in danger. For a Tubi find, it stands out as one of the more layered and confident indie horror offerings currently floating around.
This is not a movie for viewers looking for nonstop carnage or polished studio spectacle. It is, however, a solid hidden gem for anyone who enjoys low-budget horror that understands its limitations and uses them wisely. Quietly funny, occasionally unsettling, and smarter than it initially lets on, My First Year Off Campus proves that sometimes the real achievement is not how much money you have, but how little you let it show.
Jessie Hobson