All across Alex Russell’s Lurker, characters keep opining on the inspiring importance of ‘being yourself’. It’s classic advice, yet not to be followed if you yourself are one of those same characters. A treatise on modern fame and parasocial relationships, Lurker is led by a young pair of pure narcissists – albeit *very* different kinds of narcissist – who should probably really try on some new personalities before their current ones trap them in a social hell of their own making.
Though the obvious villain of the piece is our protagonist Matthew (Theodore Pellerin), a weirdo superfan of up-and-coming Brit-in-LA popstar Oliver (Archie Madekwe) who manages to luck, lie, and debase himself into Oliver’s entourage, Russell shows little mercy to the object of Matthew’s obsession either. Like countless celebrities, Oliver has no regard for the feelings or time of those around him, flighty and impulsive and prone to forgetting promises seconds after he’s made them, and he loves to play divide and rule with his cronies, off whose attention he vampirically feeds. Russell has fun pitting these two voids of neediness against each other, especially as their early ‘friendship’ later turns into a bitter unspoken rivalry when Matthew’s obsession starts to dangerously escalate.
It’s an escalation that, while intense overall, does play out in a rather samey manner scene by scene. Oliver will burst into a scene, and then Matthew will get weird and jealous in a way that he tries to hide from Oliver but is obvious to others and then do something he can’t take back, whether that’s lie to a mutual friend about how Oliver only politely pretends to like them or knock a rival entourage member off a ladder and fail to play it off as a joke. Some moments are undeniably heart-in-mouth effective, particularly when the far more innocent fan-turned-assistant Jamie (God of War’s Sunny Suljic) is involved, but I also found Lurker’s structure overly repetitive.
It is, thankfully, populated by a compelling cast. Pellerin does a fine line in manic jealousy and chameleonic ass-kissing, always absorbing traits from whoever he’s talking to, while Madekwe shows the vulnerability of being a modern celebrity, where you’re both on top of the world and one algorithm shift away from mediocre obscurity. In support, Zack Fox is the absolute highlight as the funniest member of the crew who never seems to do anything but nonetheless has one of the most secure positions in Oliver’s heart.
Throughout Lurker, Russell asks us if love and obsession are the same thing – hell, it’s even the core lyric of one of Oliver’s songs, which are all solid simulations of real 2010s/2020s sad pop – and the answer, for these people at least, is a grimly resounding ‘yes’. If you want the spotlight, genuine, non-transactional relationships have to go. It’s a point made a few too many times here, while the whole ‘lonely freak psychologically invades a more charming guy’s life’ story has been done considerably better this year in Twinless, but Russell keeps it compelling through corrosive doses of pure cynicism.
Jack Blackwell – Film Reviews 