With its minimal budget and impressive box office success, Curry Barker’s hit film, “Obsession,” is a sensation that leverages the horror genre to capture the pitfalls of toxic masculinity. The film was produced and financed independently with a mere $750,000 — a budget far less than the majority of box-office successes.
Starring mostly breakout actors — including Inde Navarrette and Megan Lawless — “Obsession” offers a more natural viewing experience than other recent standout films like Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey,” which boasts a cast of well-known faces that stifle viewers’ immersion.
The film follows Bear (Michael Johnston), a young man who is desperately infatuated with his friend Nikki (Inde Navarrette). Unable to work up the courage to admit his feelings, Bear resorts to wishing upon a mystical wish-granting stick — the “One Wish Willow” — that Nikki would love him “more than anyone in the f—ing world.”
In the following days, the wish’s effect seems relatively normal — the two friends start dating and appear madly in love. But it soon becomes apparent that Nikki is no longer her old self, and that she will stop at nothing to ensure she has Bear all to herself.
The film explores themes of modern-day male entitlement through Bear in particular. Next to his best friend Ian (Cooper Tomlinson) — a more stereotypical example of selfish “machismo” — Bear seems relatively harmless. But throughout the film, it is soon revealed why Bear’s less overt misogyny makes him far more dangerous. Rather than allow Nikki to choose whether or not to enter a relationship with him, Bear’s insecurities deprive Nikki of agency.
Throughout the film, Bear plays the part of the “nice guy,” who appears the victim despite inadvertently engineering the entire situation. Nikki’s suffering worsens in favor of staying with Bear — and he is confronted with sacrificing his life or hers — begging the question, “who is truly obsessed with whom?”
The beauty of “Obsession” lies in its simplicity. While the “wish gone wrong” is not a new story, the use of this familiar narrative device draws a wide range of audiences into a thoroughly novel experience. Fans enter the theater expecting a typical horror movie but are treated to unexpected, and at times uncomfortable, depictions of gendered culture in the 21st century.
The film’s use of horror is also notably unique. While Barker does utilize the traditional jumpscare, most of the movie’s frights are far more understated but equally disturbing, such as Nikki’s rapid shifts between her original and her new, obsessed self. In an interview with film critic Juju Green, Barker describes these chilling yet subdued moments — or what he deems the “modern jumpscare” — as exploring “how close can you be to human without being human.”
That being said, “Obsession” also features scenes with intense gore that turn up its shock factor. These grotesquely realistic images work in the film’s favor, manifesting the violent nature of Bear’s wish concretely and viscerally.
While the film does not embark on a particularly complex journey and runs the risk of being interpreted at face value — some viewers walk away only with the impression that we should fear possessive women — Barker’s depiction of modern-day relationships and inequities is undeniably and horrifyingly familiar.
Millie Barter is a senior staff writer covering RISD.
