Even if he hadn’t recently landed the new Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake, you’ve likely heard the name Curry Barker. He’s the latest in the recent spate of former sketch comedians/YouTubers turning to horror-directing with an online feature under his belt. Obsession—his theatrical debut—fully lives up to both his promise and the title. For whatever familiarity lies within it, there’s a strong seed just begging to flourish into something great.
Obsession is a mean, nasty riff on The Monkey’s Paw with a novel catalyst: a mysterious trinket called a One Wish Willow, available at your local New Age store, that grants whoever breaks it in half exactly one of their greatest desires. The lucky owner is Bear (Michael Johnston), a normal-enough guy haplessly in love with Nikki (Inde Navarrette), his co-worker at a music store. He just can’t seem to work up the nerve to confess his true feelings, driving his best friend and coworker Ian (Cooper Tomlinson, Barker’s partner in their comedy group “that’s a bad idea”) to conclude that he’s a lost cause. Even after Nikki tells him, in as few words as possible, to “shit or get off the pot,” he still can’t do it. If only there were a way to get her to love him more than anyone on Earth—perhaps one available at the local New Age store.
For as wild and uncomfortable as Obsession becomes, it is less a question of where the film is going than how it’s going to get there and what path it will take. To Barker’s credit, however, it never feels like he’s stalling for time; a lot of the film is spent observing Bear and his other co-workers, including Sarah (Megan Lawless), the owner’s daughter, who perhaps has a bit of a crush on Bear. Both she and Ian find Nikki’s sudden change a bit odd, concerned that Bear may be taking advantage of a mental breakdown. It’s a development that shows Barker has something on his mind, perhaps recognizing that another version of this movie could be horrific in its misogyny.
Barker instead recognizes that Bear kind of sucks, even if he otherwise seems like a nice guy. Johnston is an appealing-enough hero on the surface that it lessens the frustration one might feel at the ways Bear continuously avoids the clear situation in front of him. One way he attempts to deflect is by calling the company that makes the One Wish Willows, only to be told that—sorry—they don’t really “cancel” wishes, a scene nicely reflecting corporate indifference and irresponsibility.
Despite both Barker and the producers’ insistence that they were surprised by laughter during test screenings, Obsession frequently finds a sense of humor; one doesn’t hire Andy Richter if not at least trying for some intentional laughs. Yet this humor often comes in such a heightened, deranged way that—to quote one Bever Hopox—“Ya Gotta Laugh!!!!” Nowhere is this clearer than an already much-discussed scene that was allegedly cut down to avoid an NC-17. Judging from the screams induced on behalf of myself and the audience, it doesn’t seem they had to trim much.
As visceral as Obsession gets, Barker often wisely holds back, avoiding the senseless cruelty that can bedevil fellow YouTubers-turned-horror-filmmakers like Danny and Michael Philippou (Talk to Me, Bring Her Back). That restraint extends to how he maintains sympathy for Nikki even as she’s duct-taping the door shut (somehow the least-drastic action in this story). There’s definite skill in the crafting of shots and scares—even ones not nodding to Pulse—while some segments haven’t quite been ironed out. This is most notable in the editing, which tends to hold beats to the point of distraction. Occasionally this works, such as when the camera keeps on Nikki’s rictus-like smile growing more and more pained until it finally pans down, but elsewhere it suggests a director trying to find his sense of style.
The same cannot be said about Navarrette, who contorts her face and voice in truly unforgettable ways, like when she gives her best Cecelia Condit/Betty Gabriel impression by repeating “No no no no no” as her volume suddenly rises, or when she opens her mouth in a stiff, plasticky fashion. Sometimes she’s the funniest part of the movie, able to elicit deep, uncomfortable laughs by yelling “STAY,” alternating between a malfunctioning robot and a toxically co-dependent girlfriend. It’s an easy contender for one of the best performances of the year—an instant classic of a villain that reveals another, trapped self. It is as devastating as it is disturbing, hammering home the fact that Bear has stripped her of all agency. If the ending seems to give in to a little of the cruelty that had been so steadily avoided, it’s only because she made such an indelible impression. Familiar as it may be, Obsession provides a firm introduction to multiple budding talents while providing all the sick thrills and nasty twists on morality one could ask for.
Obsession opens in theaters on Friday, May 15.