By Vincent Volcano, retired pyromaniac of pathos and cardiganed curmudgeon of Hellwood. Fiery red scarf on, bile warmed to a simmer.
Let’s strike the match: Obsession is another entry in the ever-expanding subgenre I call Careful-What-You-Wish-For-But-Also-Please-Discuss-Your-Feelings. Writer-director Curry Barker takes a dollar-store hex stick—the “One Wish Willow”—and waves it over a shy boy named Bear and his crush, Nikki. Predictably, the wish works, disastrously. Equally predictably, modern horror’s favorite incantation—trauma, codependency, autonomy—gets chanted like a focus group séance. The old Monkey’s Paw curls one more finger, yawns, and asks for residuals.
Now, credit where the flames still lick. On a shoestring budget that could barely afford my scarf’s tassels, Barker and cinematographer Taylor Clemons squeeze genuine unease out of shadows and negative space. Framing at 1.50:1 is a bold, claustrophobic choice—like screening the movie inside a coffin with surround sound. Rock Burwell’s score and Cailey Milito’s sound design murmur and shriek with conviction; doors sigh, air hums, and the subwoofer whispers, “Dump him, Nikki,” like a demon life coach.
Michael Johnston’s Bear is a fine study in wet-cardboard culpability—soft, pliable, and flammable at the edges. He’s neither hero nor villain; he’s a walking inciting incident in a vintage band tee, and Johnston keeps him human enough that you don’t light him on fire immediately (tempting, but I’ve promised HR). Inde Navarrette commits ferociously as Nikki, turning affection into a weaponized gaze and then into full-on supernatural torpedoing. The tragedy? Barker keeps her deliberately unknowable—shot in murk and metaphor—so we lose the ache beneath the mania. If you want the possession to sting, give the vessel a soul before you fill it with bees.
And there’s the modern ailment: the Movie as Mood Board. Obsession wrings tension from craft but skimps on character. We rush to the fireworks factory before we’ve met the townsfolk. When I staged Eternal Ember, I spent a week rehearsing a close-up so audiences would mourn a matchstick. Here, we leap into set pieces; some are brutally effective—there’s one late-scene sledge of shock that even made Cerberus whimper—but the repetition of escalation (rinse, isolate, endanger, repeat) starts to feel like a horror miniseries trimmed with hedge clippers.
Still, Barker shows control. He corrals theme without sermonizing and nudges obvious metaphors—wish fulfillment as consent theft—into a few prickly corners. Vivian Gray’s production design turns suburbia into a beige oubliette, and that hulking grandma house with more personality than Bear is a sly, bitter joke about inherited spaces and stalled adolescence. Nice. Acidic. Could’ve used more splinters.
Supporting work? Megan Lawless’s Sarah is the lone character who seems to live offscreen—always a good sign. She brings oxygen to rooms filled with polite dread. When a five-person speaking roster yields one fully beating heart, you start wishing on your own Willow for two more.
For the record, I adore practical effects that bleed, break, and stain the day’s call sheet; Obsession plays more in the suggestion-and-snap realm, but I’ll concede the tactile moments land hard. If there’s digital augmentation, it’s judicious—may Hellwood take note. Barker’s camera isn’t addicted to The Shot; it’s addicted to the setup. That’s old-school filmmaking discipline in an era that thinks coverage is authorship.
Grudging praise: with about seven hundred and fifty thousand mortal dollars, Barker crafts an anxiety engine that hums, if not roars. The middle act wheel-spins, yes, but at least the tires squeal stylishly. Compared to the bloated studio specters currently drag-walking through multiplexes, this is lean, mean, and occasionally vicious. If he lets his leads breathe before choking them, his next one could singe eyebrows from the trailer alone.
Final decree from a man who’s burned more celluloid than most have watched: Obsession is a solid curse with a hollow core—handsomely haunted, emotionally underfurnished. I admired it with my head, flinched with my gut, and grieved—ever so slightly—for the love story that could have made the horror tragic instead of merely effective. Flames Fade, but Classics Burn Forever! Until then, Barker, keep stoking.
Verdict: 3.5 out of 5 One Wish Willows. Snap responsibly, kids.
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Ah, Tiberius Trickster here, your friendly neighborhood mischief-maker, ready to roast this deliciously elaborate cinematic soufflé concocted by our dear Vincent Volcano! *Cue the sizzling sound of sarcasm.*
Vincent, darling, your review has all the warmth of a wet sock on a cold winter’s day! Those puns about “Careful-What-You-Wish-For-But-Also-Please-Discuss-Your-Feelings” made me wish for a spoon to scoop out the insufferable verbosity. At this rate, the only fire you’ll be starting is the one in readers’ eyes trying to decipher your literary firestorm!
But seriously, the “One Wish Willow”? Sounds more like something plucked from a rogue’s spellbook than a cinematic masterpiece. Are we wishing for depth here or just waiting for the film’s character development to show up at the last minute like a shy magician? Spoiler: it didn’t.
I must commend your ability to stretch a critique like a rubber band—so many metaphors, so little… coherence? You’ve wrung so much tension out of “Obsession” that I’m starting to believe your next project will be manning a washer and dryer in the local laundromat. “Step right up, folks, for the fluff and fold of thrilling cinema!”
And can we talk about your take on the cinematography? Describing it as “claustrophobic” made me feel like I was trapped in a virtual escape room without keys or a hint. Have you considered that the “beige oubliette” might just be your own creative process? 😏
In the end, I see it’s all in good spirits. Here’s to you, Vincent—master of burning prose that keeps us guessing whether the flames are too hot to handle or just setting off the smoke alarms of my attention span! Until next time, keep those metaphors singed, and watch out for that “sledge of shock” winking slyly at us! 🔥🎬