Lurker, the psychological thriller and debut feature from Alex Russell, begins as an uneasy drama simmering with tension before spiralling into calculated chaos that will send your cortisol levels soaring. What starts as a slow burn quickly morphs into a gripping descent, pulling viewers into a world where admiration becomes obsession.
Russell’s previous work on Beef and The Bear makes the stress-inducing nature of Lurker unsurprising. His knack for crafting anxiety-driven narratives shines here. The film opens with a hauntingly subtle performance from Theodore Pellerin, whose portrayal of Matthew evolves from awkward vulnerability into something far more sinister. Opposite him, Saltburn’s Archie Madeweke dazzles as Oliver, a rising pop star whose effortless charisma becomes the object of Matthew’s fixation. Together, they craft a tense dynamic that probes the boundaries of parasocial relationships, keeping you on edge with observational direction that is voyeuristic at times. The audience lurks in the shadows of Oliver’s fame, following Matthew as he climbs a social ladder that feels all too familiar for Gen Z Instagram socialites.
Russell’s directional debut feels like his best work yet. It’s layered, timely, and worryingly believable. The film perfectly explores how adoration can spiral into obsession, and the intoxicating pursuit of being wanted and admired by a group for the first time in your life. It’s layered and quite heart-breaking at times. It’s a must-watch, and you’ll probably have Oliver’s songs stuck in your head for weeks—making it admittedly understandable how someone can become enamoured with his nonchalant, cool boy demeanour.
Adding to the film’s intensity is an exceptional score by Kenny Beats (now known as Kenneth Blume). For a debut, it’s nothing short of remarkable. With original songs performed by Madeweke himself, with Rex Orange County also writing and producing credits on the standout track Love and Obsession. It’s incredible, and anyone should snap Blume up to score their next psychological thriller.
What makes Lurker particularly unsettling is its commentary on the digital age. The film doesn’t just depict obsession; it interrogates the mechanics behind it. Social media becomes a silent antagonist. Russell cleverly uses these platforms as narrative devices, showing how likes, comments, and fleeting interactions can blur the line between reality and fantasy. This layer adds a chilling relevance, reminding viewers that parasocial relationships aren’t confined to celebrity culture; they’re woven into everyday life, making the story feel both personal and universal. The character’s obsessions with being seen with each other, the need for ‘networking’ within these industries and the desire for notoriety and fan admiration are the real lurkers beneath this film.
Russell curates an inner circle that feels both intimidating and fascinating, crafting a crescendo of paranoia and power dynamics. Career-best performances from the cast, paired with a claustrophobic score, create a spiralling sense of dread that lingers long after the credits roll. Lurker is a film that forces you to question the boundaries between admiration and obsession.
Lurker is in UK cinemas from 12 December.
