Obsession (United States, 2025)

Sometimes, it's all about execution. There are times when a movie can boast a compelling premise, yet translating that idea into reality defeats the filmmakers. Maybe the screenplay sucks, the actors aren’t up to snuff, or the tone is all over the place. In the case of Curry Barker's Obsession, it's all three. This Blumhouse horror movie, which merges themes of sexual obsession with supernatural elements ("Be careful what you wish for..."), runs into trouble early. Instead of finding its footing, it stumbles through an overlong midsection before totally imploding in the final act. The ending is especially problematic, with Barker unable to decide which direction to take, cycling through multiple possibilities instead of committing to a singular vision.

Chief among the film's numerous problems is the screenplay's complete inability to create believable, relatable characters; all of them feel artificial from the start. They talk like they're reading lines, evince little chemistry, and never provide a sense that they exist beneath the surface. The introductory scenes establishing their backgrounds feel forced and obligatory, relying far too much on "telling" rather than "showing." The movie also frequently forces these half-formed characters into doing things simply because the narrative requires a specific action to maintain its predetermined trajectory, not because the choices make internal sense.

Obsession follows Bear (Michael Johnston), an awkward music store employee desperate to escape the friend zone with his longtime crush and co-worker, Nikki (Inde Navarrette). After fumbling a chance to confess his feelings, Bear buys a supernatural dime-store trinket called the One Wish Willow. He uses it to wish that Nikki will love him more than anyone else in the world, and in true Monkey's Paw fashion, the literal fulfillment of his desire yields horrifying results. Nikki is transformed from an independent woman into an unhinged stalker stripped of her free will. What starts as a romantic fantasy quickly devolves into a nightmare as Nikki's unnatural devotion turns bloody.

As was once typical of Blumhouse productions, the cast is not populated with household names. As Bear, Michael Johnston is fine with surface emotions but struggles to give his character genuine depth. Inde Navarrette does well when playing "normal" Nikki, but she veers into aggressive scenery-chewing once she transitions into "Freaky Nikki" mode. Cooper Tomlinson, in the role of the male best friend, Ian, is wooden, leaving Megan Lawless, as the female best friend, Sarah, as the most credible member of the ensemble. Obsession might have benefited from a seasoned actor or two—and Andy Richter, who shows up in a minor role, doesn't count.

The narrative frequently forces the characters into hard-to-swallow situations just to drive the plot forward. For instance, even after Nikki asks Bear point-blank if he "likes" her, he completely clams up. Then there's the question of why he buys the wish willow in the first place; absent any establishing setup, the purchase comes entirely out of the blue. Later, a series of middle-of-the-night emergency texts turns out to be a cheap red herring, designed exclusively to set up a highly predictable next scene.

There are plenty of laughs in Obsession—or at least, the audience members at my screening were laughing frequently. Unfortunately, a great deal of the humor seems to be unintentional. Although writer/director Barker throws in the occasional purposeful comedic moment to lighten the mood, too many instances of campy acting and over-the-top staging create tonal whiplash, causing the film to veer into self-parody. Even the movie's most graphically violent sequence goes on for so long that it loses its shock value. It is tough to recover from that kind of downward spiral.

Conceptually, Obsession plays in territory that has been well-explored by far better films. One doesn't even have to evoke Nagisa Oshima’s 1976 masterpiece In the Realm of the Senses to find a comparison; the mainstream Fatal Attraction is equally applicable. In part because of the supernatural "wish fulfillment" aspect, the movie is able to skirt the real-world psychological issues that arise when someone goes to unacceptable lengths to claim the object of their fixation. Tossing in a magical element gives the filmmakers a convenient back door to bypass uncomfortable, grounded questions.

Ultimately, Obsession is as much a source of frustration as it is simply bad. It doesn't take an immense amount of creativity to recognize how this exact scenario could serve as the foundation for a much tighter, better story. Barker's version feels like the work of a filmmaker who knew what milestones he wanted his narrative to hit but couldn't figure out how to integrate the elements organically. The result is a film that runs far too long and rarely generates enough tension or genuine horror to justify its runtime—or, indeed, its very existence.

Obsession (United States, 2025)