“Obsession” Movie Review
If you have any kind of social media at all, you have likely been spammed with memes and hot takes on Curry Barker’s new horror film, Obsession. Likely, you’ve seen one of Inde Navarrette’s now iconic expressions, from her blood-smeared scream to her comically extreme frown.
Obsession is the first theatrical outing for 26-year-old Curry Barker, known previously as co-creator (the other half of the creative duo, Cooper Tomlinson, is also featured in a supporting role in Obsession) of an online sketch comedy series called that’s a bad idea. He joins other comedy specialists like Jordan Peel and Zach Cregger in successfully making the switch to horror.
The premise is pretty simple: Bear (Michael Johnston) is a soft-spoken, regular schmuck who’s deeply in love (or, perhaps, obsessed) with a co-worker Nikki (Inde Navarratte). His friend group offers advice, but like all the best lovestruck losers, Bear does nothing with it and keeps his feelings to himself. That is, until he uses a gimmicky toy called a One Wish Willow to wish that Nikki “loved him more than anyone else in the world”. If you assume this wish probably goes swimmingly and they live a long and healthy life together until they both die peacefully together in their senior years, then congratulations. You’ve never seen a movie before, and I can’t possibly help you.
A lot of the discourse around this film revolves around Bear’s status as the film’s real villain. He takes away Nikki’s autonomy and throws a fit when her sudden change of heart is questioned. He has what he wants; why can’t everyone just be happy for him? As Nikki’s behavior becomes more disturbing and unhinged, he also displays a selfish streak that is truly deplorable.
Personally, I think labelling Bear the villain is too simple. He’s an idiot, to be sure. A coward, certainly. Selfish, weak and foolish. All of the above. But calling him a villain tends to simplify the film’s complex themes about consent, relationships and the way we treat each other. Diminishing the film to a “bad man, poor woman” morality play ignores its commentary on dishonesty among friends, unresolved feelings, the downright anxiety of modern friendships and relationships. Taking away someone’s right to choose is vile, of course—although Bear obviously does not assume the toy will work when he uses it—but he is less a straight up bad guy than a misguided fool who cannot process his feelings or his grief.
Ah yes, grief. The favorite tool in the horror toolbox these last few years. The film opens with Bear coming home to find his beloved pet can Sandy dead, killed when she got into Bear’s deceased grandmother’s old medicine. I think Bear’s entire character is spelled out before he makes his wish. He has yet to get rid of his grandmother’s meds, indicating he has yet to deal with her loss. Now his little cat is gone, and it’s his fault. Does he deal with that? No, he goes off to chase the ideal “girl of his dreams” in Nikki. He wants to skip the process in grieving, in love and even in life (his dream job is food critic, something he admits he has no clue how to become). And when the supernatural stuff comes along, he is immediately in over his head.
Speaking of the girl of his dreams, Inde Navarrette delivers what should be a star-making performance as Nikki. She is far and away the highlight of the film, playing Nikki as a flirty, fun and somewhat aloof presence up until the fateful wish, then whirling through every emotion under the sun. Some of her more extreme moments are downright hilarious in a dark, vicious sort of way. Others are unnerving. But through it all, Navarrette never lets you forget that Nikki isn’t a movie monster (though sometimes she sure acts like it); she’s a woman pulled into a nightmare she didn’t ask for and cannot escape, possessed by some other entity born only to worship Bear.
The film isn’t perfect. There are pacing issues that took me out of the film here and there. Namely, Nikki has a violent outburst at a party that sets off the film’s third act. Moments later, everyone is shockingly calm and behaving as if one of their best friends didn’t just commit a few acts of self-harm during a game of Jenga. I don’t know if a Director’s Cut would fix these issues, but either way they aren’t enough to hurt the movie significantly.
Inde Navarrette has been embracing the love and accolades she’s been receiving (her reaction to Shaun of the Dead director Edgard Wright’s praise was sweet, and very funny), and Curry Barker has lined himself up as the director of the next Texas Chainsaw Massacre film, something I think his brand of pitch black humor will lend itself to. It’s on pace to make something like ten times its budget. In other words, it’s a success. What’s even more impressive is that it deserves its success.
**** out of *****
