During World War II, a German platoon is trapped in a tunnel-ridden complex on the Belgian border, stalked by a force which might be American troops, medieval plague or the manifestation of their guilt.
Evoking the Nazis-vs.-monsters feel of The Keep and the Hun's-eye-view of Cross Of Iron, The Bunker largely gets away with casting Brits as Krauts, although it takes a while to get accustomed to the use of equivalent accents that have a stormtrooper played as a cockney skinhead. One prominently-billed star takes a surprise early bath to make room for less predictable players, as the platoon is riven with conflicts between Nazi thugs, guilt-ridden humanitarians and fed-up time-servers who just want to go home.
The film refuses to go down the expected monster or body-count route - although most of the cast don't survive the night - and it delivers chills more along the lines of a '40s Val Lewton horror than a present-day slasher.
Rob Green's direction depends on smoke and whispers, setting up the shock effects with suspenseful wandering about in the dark.
An unusually persuasive, creepy movie. Perhaps a little too ambiguous for the video gore crowd, it nonetheless delivers more than its share of nasty shocks.