Obsession

Given the talk of horror's reliability at the box office in an era that has seen the industry in constant panic mode, it's no wonder that's been the route to YouTubers finally directing on the big screen. While not the first, the Philippou brothers' debut Talk to Me was the beginning of a small surge that has continued to build, from Skinamarink to House on Eden to Iron Lung to their own sophomore effort, Bring Her Back, not to mention the anticipation for Backrooms from twenty-year-old Kane Parsons at the end of the month. That list makes clear that apart from genre, they have little else in common regarding tone or filmmaking style or quality. But most of them are different from mainstream horror in some way, from Kyle Edward Ball's minimalist experimental nightmare to Chris Stuckmann's faux-documentary/narrative hybrid. Curry Barker is the latest to be called up, and as has been the case with everyone named above, I went in with no idea who he was, for better or for worse.

Perhaps it was helpful, as I wasn't thrown by this horror film opening on Bear (Michael Johnston) delivering an uncertain, awkward speech confessing his feelings to his close friend and longtime crush Nikki (Inde Navarrette), only for his best friend Ian (Cooper Tomlinson) to break the tension by hilariously proclaiming it an awful train wreck, and we see the receiver was actually a waitress who agreed to help out. It's an early signal of Barker's skill at weaving through various genres and tropes, as it truly feels like a beat from the end of a romcom until his friend dowses his dreams in cold water. Which is continued by their conversation afterwards, as we learn more about the mundane circumstances in which these twenty-somethings find themselves, their lives seemingly stalled. All three work with their friend Sarah (Megan Lawless) at her father's music shop, and the only thing they have to look forward to is bar trivia once a week. And while I'm not one to look down on trivia, if that's the highlight of your week, things haven't exactly worked out for you.

Given the opening, and the other times Ian foils Bear's attempts to talk to Nikki ("You will NOT ruin trivia night. Do it literally any other time!"), he's absolutely the kind of guy who would attempt to take the easy route by using a magical item to wish for her to love him. Not that he expects it to work: he picked up the One Wish Willow from a woo-woo shop for $6.99, unceremoniously surrounded by crystals and the like. But the moment he cracks it, a change comes over Nikki. She begins to insist that she can't spend the night alone because her dad's dying. Which is weird, because not only has this not come up before, but they haven't spoken in years, and he lives across the country. As if emphasizing that point, she stops for a moment to wonder out loud what she's doing and apologize for being weird, before proceeding to get into his car. Once at his apartment, she becomes super clingy and even starts to make out with him, which is only interrupted when she jerks backwards, scared and exclaiming "What the fuck?!". The moment afterward tells us a lot about Bear, as his exasperated and defensive response is to remind her "You starting kissing me!"

This is a Monkey's Paw story, although amusingly, Barker has admitted his first exposure to the story was through a Simpsons Treehouse of Horror episode. And it's not like stories of some dude wishing for his crush to like him are rare. But there are two key decisions Barker made that set his iteration apart. For one, the terror begins immediately. There's none of this "honeymoon period", where everything is seemingly going well before problems slowly start to reveal themselves. He's no sooner made the wish than we get an unsettling shot of Nikki standing on her porch, staring at Bear's car, the bright lights behind her obscuring her face in shadow. She immediately becomes overbearing and erratic, and Navarrette imbues even her moments of calm with the threat of a freak-out. Yes, they started "dating" the very next day, communicating with absolute clarity that from the beginning, Bear is only able to accept (and defend) their "relationship" through an intensely selfish denial of reality.

Which is the other brilliant but subtle alteration to the template. With Bear a villain from the start, the focus shifts to his willful ruining of her life for his own gratification. He's the protagonist, so we see the events of the film through his eyes, and experience first hand how much they mess him up, right before he goes back to insisting everything is fine. Her whole life has come to revolve around him, literally ceasing when he's out of sight. Any hint he may want a moment away from her triggers an outburst, often culminating in truly gruesome self-harm, made even more unsettling by her warmly smiling while blood still stains her face. There are a handful of indications throughout that the real Nikki is trapped inside her own body, ceaselessly screaming in horrible torment, along for the ride as this sycophantic parasite pilots. In a film that frequently got under my skin like few before it, it's this runner reminding us of her complete lack of agency that leads to one of the scariest and most upsetting scenes, despite lasting only a minute or so.

None of this would land without the gobsmacking performance from Navarrette. Johnson is a great self-absorbed sad sack Nice Guy™, Tomlinson nails the delivery of comedic beats to get you to laugh out loud without undermining the drama/horror, and Lawless is a serviceable alt-girl friend (to be fair, the script doesn't give her a ton to do). But the level of commitment demonstrated by Navarrette's physical performance is enough to make Demi Moore blush. A handful of sudden, precise movements will make your skin crawl, and you'll laugh at each over-the-top reaction to the smallest slight or lightest touch. The level of control she has over her voice is impressive, granting her the ability to whipsaw from quietly pleasant to shrill and unhinged and back again in an instant, sometimes further cementing the feeling of a demonic presence, and others good to make you guffaw. For as good as the screenplay and score and directing are (and they are all great!), Navarette's delivery of what is destined to be an iconic horror performance elevates the experience, no question.

The film is nasty in a way uncommon for mainstream horror (save for something where the depravity is the whole point, like Terrifier), but which seems to be common for YouTubers. They follow their idea through to its logical conclusion, no matter how much of a turn-off it may be, secure in their faith that the audience wants to go on this ride with them. As with its forebears, Obsession's violence is grisly and visceral and unexpected. Most of all, it's sparse, ensuring we feel it that much more when it happens. The deep deconstruction of a well-worn trope indicates someone who's considering all their work very carefully while not losing sight of the primary goal of horror: making people jump out of their seats, and earning every single reaction. That Barker has achieved so much in his first feature, and that audiences and critics alike seem to be responding to it so well, start off his career on an ecstatic foot. Which is good, because he's going to need as much good will as he can gather for the project A24 just tapped him for: a remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.