THE STORY – A retail employee infiltrates the inner circle of an artist on the verge of stardom. As he gets closer to the budding music star, access and proximity become a matter of life and death.
THE CAST – Théodore Pellerin, Archie Madekwe, Havana Rose Liu, Sunny Suljic, Zack Fox, Daniel Zolghadri, Mikaela Poon, Rene Leech, Hannah Christine Shetler & Willa Jane Shaw
THE TEAM – Alex Russell (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 100 Minutes
Alex Russell’s debut feature film, “Lurker,” opens with a question that gives so many of us chills: “Where do you see yourself in 5 years?” It can often be heard coming from parents, interviewers, significant others, distant relatives, you name it. And for most people, Matthew (Théodore Pellerin) included, that can be a difficult and stressful possibility to think about. But we quickly come to find out that Matthew knows his answer. At the very least, he is determined to will a single option into existence; there’s just absolutely no way he could say it out loud. Matthew can only hope that in five years, he’ll still be clinging onto the heels of Oliver (Archie Madekwe), an up-and-coming musician, and his crew of friends/employees. What might be a solid way to get an audience to relate to the central character quickly devolves into viewers wishing that weren’t the case. The reason? It’s because Matthew is somebody that no one would want to have any relation to. “Stans” are what so many celebrities of any status level have to deal with in our current “always online” society, and Matthew is a parasocial stan hellbent on being a part of Oliver’s life. And much like Oliver comes to realize, Matthew is impossible to get rid of. That’s lucky for us as an audience because “Lurker” remains a compelling game that drags us unwillingly along for the ride.
Celebrities put themselves out into the world in a way that’s much more open than the majority of the public does. And it should go without saying that they deserve their own privacy the same way any of us do. People will often say it’s “the price of fame.“ Others will openly criticize and antagonize celebrities who clash against the notion of always needing to remain “on“ for their “fans.” (Chappell Roan did nothing wrong for speaking the truth about this sort of behavior!) Stories come out so often about fans taking things way too far that it’s a miracle the environments of meet-and-greets or stage-dooring still exist. In fact, we’re beginning to see certain celebrities openly address their reasons for no longer partaking in these events. A handful of anecdotes can ruin so much for genuine fans of something, but there is a cost to behaving improperly. If people like this don’t understand shame in any capacity, then the complete removal of a situation makes sense. Interestingly, “Lurker” isn’t necessarily interested in this cost. Instead, it’s fascinated with any one of the anecdotes that could cause such a reaction in the first place. When we first meet Matthew, we don’t know anything about him. He certainly looks miserable working his retail job in Los Angeles. It’s not until Oliver steps into his store that he completely shifts. It’s as if Prince Charming has come to whisk him away from his plain life. Only Matthew has rigged this fairytale in his favor. Now, he’s able to ensure his complete control of how everything is going to play out.
So, the cautionary tale begins with Oliver seeking something genuine. He’s impressed by Matthew and invites him around, yet Matthew wants more. One of the most fascinating elements of “Lurker“ lies in Pellerin’s performance. It’s a performance that, in some ways, feels tongue-in-cheek. But the reason it works is because it’s a character whose behavior can be mocked yet still feel sinister and alarming. For example, one scene sees Matthew hanging out with Oliver’s friends, Bowen (Paris, Texas member Olawale Onayemi) and Swett (the unreal and hilarious Zack Fox). He makes these remarks that feel so genuine in their awkwardness. They’re things merely said when somebody feels uncomfortable or unsure of how to act amongst strangers. For example, comments about a video game map that can be used to fall back on during a lull in conversation. It’s totally relatable in a sense. Only then do we see how flat-out disingenuous and deceptive it actually is. Matthew sees himself as a tortured soul deserving of more, and every moment of this is telegraphed on his face, both comically and disturbingly. When he sees how the group reacts to somebody who is genuine, it practically repulses him and sends him into a spiral. This is an individual who, like much of society today, sees the people around him as purely transactional opportunities.
One gets the sense that Matthew can’t even comprehend what he genuinely wants. He seems more preoccupied with the perception of being somebody rather than actually wanting to be. By brute forcing his way into relevancy among an upper tier of social status, perhaps he can shine brighter internally. At one point, Russell shows us a genuinely sweet scene between Matthew and his grandmother. It’s set to a cheekily titled and incredibly smooth Nile Rodgers song that recurs throughout the film. But the rug is quickly pulled from under us. Matthew’s home personality is again revealed to be a facade. This dichotomy is something that feels like it could have been explored more, as the third act of the film shifts its focus onto a different idea. When compared and contrasted, it would make for an interesting lens to view the film. Instead, Russell chooses to take a different path that won’t be spoiled here. However, Matthew’s hollowness through and through makes “Lurker“ a compelling character study of how parasocial idealization can delude people to great lengths.
One of the most exciting elements of “Lurker“ is the music. Oliver’s music seems to improve throughout the film. This feels intentionally done as both we and the characters find Matthew more entrenched in the life of Oliver. This is reaffirmed by the man who is producing the music presented in the film, Kenny Beats. Doubling as the composer, where he is credited as Kenneth Blume, both the score and actual music of “Lurker“ propel its narrative. The first time Blume’s score kicks in, it feels like we’re being whisked away to another world. As Matthew is entering the stage of his life that he has scarily planned to infiltrate for so long, Blume’s score hypnotizes us. It builds a rhythm that gets louder and louder until it feels like the image may pop. It’s meant to keep us on edge, yet it’s also something that clearly entices. That Blume can capture both elements of “Lurker“ in a single composition and only continue to build on the film’s soundscape from there is impressive. While he may be a legendary beat-maker and music producer, this is his first film score and, hopefully, not his last.
With “Lurker,” Russell isn’t interested in the cost of fame or the reason for parasocial relationships, but rather, his film is interested in keeping the viewer stuck in the hollow world that behavior like this brings forth. There’s no actual joy. There’s no genuine drive. In this regard, “Lurker“ is an eerie and chilling thriller that keeps its viewer stuck in an endless feedback loop of disconcerting behavior that’s only becoming more common.
