'Lurker': An Uneasy, Extremely Compelling Exploration of Obsession and Fame

PHOTO: MUBI

Anyone who has spent a few minutes on the internet can tell you that modern fandoms are extremely toxic. From gatekeepers to parasocial relationships to stans rushing to defend their idols when faced with the mildest of criticism, the digital landscape is full of unusual behaviors from people who are blindly devoted to various icons. This is especially true in the world of music, as many worship at the altar of their favorite artists and view them as gods and goddesses. Writer/director Alex Russell takes on this phenomenon in his debut feature Lurker, which centers on the increasingly blurred boundaries between a fan and a rising artist. It is a rather relevant topic, and one that Russell explores with a great deal of realism. As we see our protagonist, Matthew, spiral further into obsession, there is a mounting anxiety that is present. This builds and builds, creating tension and an uneasy quality that effectively underlines the darker side of fandom. Lurker is a descent into one person’s obsession with a pop star that both shocks and gives insight into the toxicity that comes with stan culture. 

Matthew Morning (Théodore Pellerin) lives an average life and spends much of his time working a retail job at a trendy clothing store. This all changes when up-and-coming pop star Oliver (Archie Madekwe) comes to the store one day. After hitting it off due to their shared music tastes, Oliver invites Matthew to one of his shows. Here it is discovered that Matthew has an interest in photography and filmmaking, and he is brought into Oliver’s entourage as his documentarian. As Matthew begins to infiltrate his inner circle, his obsession for Oliver grows and lines get crossed. As things begin to escalate, the two find themselves in dangerous situations that could have deadly consequences. 

Alex Russell has worked exclusively in television, writing for shows like Dave, Beef, and most notably, The Bear. This film shares some of the sensibilities of these shows, but it finds its own rhythm and tone that gives us a clear idea of who Russell is as a filmmaker. With many filmmakers shying away from films set in the present day, Russell embraces it with this film, as iPhones, Instagram, and online presence all play a big role in Lurker. It is all used in a way that feels natural, mainly because these things are all intrinsically linked to modern-day fame and life in general. Most impressively, Russell makes texting feel cinematic during a scene when Matthew is angrily texting one of his friends. This is shown through a blurred, shaky camera, quick editing, and the film’s thrumming score. It is one of the more intense moments of the film, one of many that puts us in the headspace of its characters and gives off high anxiety. Russell knows how to cultivate mood and unsettle viewers, but he does so in a way that isn’t showy and feels more unnerving due to how realistic everything feels. 

The commentary the film makes on parasocial relationships is extremely compelling, as we see what happens when the boundaries between fan and star get blurred once friendship becomes part of the equation. The growing obsession that Matthew harbors for Oliver becomes worrisome as the film goes on, and the lengths he goes to in order to be as close to him as possible are alarming to say the least. The film also has a homoerotic subtext that suggests more than just friendship may be on Matthew’s mind, and this comes to the surface at least a couple of times throughout. We see how Matthew is completely transfixed by Oliver, and how he is jealous once others steal attention away from him. This makes Lurker a tale of social climbing and how obsession can bring out the worst in people, and it examines these themes sharply and with a hefty helping of discomfort. 

The film also has this lo-fi feel, giving off a grittier vibe that comes through in its cinematography. The use of handheld camera work makes the film feel more intimate, and helps everything feel more authentic. There is a graininess that is consistent across the whole film, which fits the film very well. There is also a fair amount of footage shot via camcorder, representing the footage that Matthew is gathering for his documentary, that is well-deployed. It all gives the film an almost voyeuristic feeling, as if we’re watching everything unfold the same way Matthew watches everyone through his camera. Pat Scola’s cinematography contributes heavily to the uneasiness of the whole film, and is arguably its secret weapon. 

I wasn’t too familiar with Théodore Pellerin going into the film, but after seeing his work here, I am all-in on whatever he does next. As Matthew, he feels like a real person, which makes his actions throughout the film all the more disturbing. It often feels like we’re watching a regular guy spiral further and further as his obsession grows, and it helps make everything hit a bit harder. Pellerin portrays Matthew with an awkwardness that makes you cringe, but he is also very unsettling and made me want to crawl out of my skin many times. Even the smallest things that he does, like a little smile or an ill-timed laugh made me so uncomfortable, and the moment that the power dynamics of the film begin to shift makes him kind of frightening. It is a grounded, yet highly effective performance, and is the centerpiece of the whole film. 

Archie Madekwe is also very good as Oliver, especially in the back half of the film. Much like Matthew is pulled in by his charismatic energy, I was also drawn in by his performance. He is charming and radiant for much of the first half of the film, but we see past the mask he wears as the film goes on. The way that Matthew’s actions begin to affect Oliver make you feel for the character, and Madekwe plays the unraveling of the character very well. For both Pellerin and Madekwe, it would be tempting to telegraph a little more of what they are thinking and feeling in the film, but both of them bring a fair dose of subtlety to their roles which makes both performances even more powerful. Madekwe has an almost numb quality to him in the film’s later sections that is hard to pull off, but he does it almost expertly. And I must mention that Pellerin and Madekwe are excellent together, especially when it comes to the push-pull dynamic they have in the back half. They are both so compelling, and the way their performances complement each other adds to the film’s discomforting atmosphere very well.

While this film is a remarkable debut, it does have a few first film issues. Russell is able to make some insightful points on obsession and how it intersects with fame, but it feels like he could have gone a bit deeper with this. He also spells things out a little near the end, which didn’t feel entirely necessary and kind of felt off given how the film had expressed everything up to that point. Russell is clearly a great writer, but it feels like his confidence flags a little near the end of the film. Thankfully, he is able to pick it back up and end the film on a very strong note. I just wish there was just a touch more consistency in the third act. All that said, Alex Russell has so much promise as a filmmaker, as his direction is so assured and full-bodied. If whatever he does next is as good as his work here, we have an incredible new filmmaker on our hands.

Near the end of Lurker, we hear one of Oliver’s songs, in which he sings “What’s the difference between love and obsession?” This question is central to the whole film, and it explores that divide between love and obsession in a thoughtful, often stressful manner. By using the relationship between fan and star, the film comments on toxic fandom in a surprisingly human way, allowing it to make a more sizable impact. Alex Russell is certainly a filmmaker to watch, as this film is so realized and effective that it is hard to believe it is only his debut. Lurker is one of the year’s biggest surprises, as it wasn’t even on my radar until just recently. It is definitely not one to miss, and affected me way more than I was anticipating. It is uneasy, bold, has plenty to say, and feels highly relevant given the current state of stan culture.

Rating: 4/5