Obsession [2026]
“Just because you chose this for her doesn't make it any less real.”
With the release of 2026’s Obsession, it’s time for Cregger, Philippou, Fischbach, and [because I’m watching this after Backrooms released] Parsons to swear fealty to the king of YouTubers-turned-feature-film-directors: Curry Barker. While I don’t think that Barker is necessarily treading even remotely new ground with his take on W.W. Jacobs’ classic, The Monkey’s Paw, the steps he takes and the flowers he plants along this well-worn path are so immaculately executed that there’s not a lot of adjectives better than “perfect” to describe this piece of genre-horror. That said… It is just a spooky campfire story, no matter how masterfully its tale is woven, and it does have an incredibly difficult time eschewing its YouTube-creator beginnings. A bit too snarky at times, and a little too silly at others, Obsession is the most unsettled I’ve been inside a theater since Ari Aster’s Hereditary gobsmacked me back in 2018. Will the slight veneer of internet cringe be too much, or will you smash that like and subscribe [remembering to click the bell to get notifications] to Barker’s new film career?
Enchanted with his friend and coworker, Nikki, Bear finally works up the courage to tell her how he feels… Except he doesn’t. Ultimately too awkward and shy to pull the trigger, Bear turns to a curio-shop gimmick to make his dreams come true… But sometimes what you wish for isn’t at all what you wanted.
Obsession is an intrinsically interesting piece of art. Like a painting that’s used only a single line weight and primary colors, the execution of Obsession’s individual parts has to be so accurate and enchanting that the simplistic nature of their foundations is neither felt nor noticed when combined into a whole film. The story is incredibly basic, nearly transparent even, with almost nothing at all taking the viewer by surprise or causing their predictions to even slightly stutter… But that’s ok, good even, in this case. The music is loud [louder than it probably should be to work], jarring, and suddenly cuts at points that feel both awkward and… Somehow perfect? The main character is insufferably awkward, while the situation that unfolds around him creates moments so tense you can’t help but laugh because they’re so absurd and uncomfortable and dangerous and real. This is a movie about people you know, people that don’t exist, and people you hope don’t exist [but probably do]. It’s a film about desire masquerading as love, and the repercussions of thoughtless lust. It’s a story about a shy lil boy trying to date the girl of his dreams, while turning into a selfish incel when given unimaginable power. It’s absurd. It’s frightening. It’s funny[?]. It is all of these things, and it is none of them. You’ve seen this movie a thousand times, and you’ve never seen it quite like this. All said, Obsession isn’t bringing anything new to the table, but it is bringing refurbished concepts back with masterfully applied paints and sealers, crafting something that will only surprise you, by how much it’s surprised you.
As mentioned with the list of names to start this review, there’s a huge boom of YouTube filmmakers right now. While I’m sure there’s plenty that I’m not aware of, my knowledge of it starts a few years ago with 2022’s Talk to Me, created by the Philippou brothers of the channel “RackaRacka”. Hot on that film’s heals was Barbarian from Whitest Kids U'Know creator, Zach Cregger, who followed up the critical success of that film with 2025’s darkly strange, Weapons; a year that also saw the brothers deliver their second, Bring Her Back. Up to this point, I haven’t particularly loved any of these films, but there is something strangely coherent about them that seems to spawn from the YouTube platform — a sort of underlying need to needle laughs, a weird sharpness to their edges, an odd plasticity that just sort of hangs around the inside of your mouth, leaving an undefinable texture you aren’t sure you like. Come 2026, we get 3 more films from YouTube stars: Iron Lung from longtime creator, Markiplier [Mark Fischbach], Backrooms, led by its web-series creator, Kane Parsons, and Obsession from, of Milk & Serial internet fame, Curry Barker. While I haven’t seen Iron Lung yet, I did just leave the theater from Backrooms and… Maybe I’ll get around to writing a review about the big waste of time I found that to be. This is all to give context to my statement from the opening that Curry Barker is [as of now] the king of the YouTube filmmakers.
Both of Cregger’s films left a ton to be desired for me, and I walked out of them wishing each was significantly shorter… And smarter. The Philippou brothers have a better record, however; I gave both of their films mid-low 7’s, citing that I like their style, but that they’re missing that ménage à trois… Or whatever that French saying is. I have a… “difficult” relationship with Markiplier, so I never had an interest in his film, and I briefly shared my thoughts about Backrooms already. While Barker absolutely has not eschewed whatever cosmic coherency seems to follow these YouFilms around, he has created something I’m genuinely impressed with and that I previously lauded Philippou’s first film for being: A perfect genre-horror piece. Like Talk to Me, Obsession is a weird thing to write about, because I don’t know how to reconcile that I both think it’s a perfect creation of what it intended to be… And also just an 8/10; Not likely to make it into the top 20 of my year, but probably landing within the lower ends of the 50 mark. It’s kind of like a perfect egg-scramble, or an Iron Chef-quality bowl of oatmeal: No matter how perfect said eggs are, they’re still just scrambled eggs. Yes [Cregger], you can make those things poorly, but the gap between “satisfactory” and “great” is basically just a sprinkling of your favorite herbs and spices. So, similar to other films belonging to pretty strict genre niches — like the exsanguinating slashers in the Terrifier series, or 2020’s “escape the bad situation” movie, Alone —, Obsession belongs to what I’ll lovingly refer to as “accessible horror” — movies that don’t require anything of the audience except a willingness to be frightened and the desire to jump-scare your neighbors at inappropriate times —, and I’m not sure that anything within that box can truly ascend to the heights of more thoughtful pieces like Midsommar, Swallow, or The Others.
-She's obsessed with me!
— [sighs] Oh, that's not so bad.
I don’t want all of this qualifying and contextual talk to take away from what my experience of this film was, however. My entire theater [self included] was jumpy, tense, and panic-chuckling in ways that I rarely see horror effect audiences anymore. Part of the chortling was definitely lent us by the aforementioned YouTube sheen, but even that was clearly an intentional part of the production, and not some accidental biproduct of a past sketch-comedy career [Cregger, looking at you again]. Michael Johnston as the lead is so painfully awkward and clandestinely sinister that you at first laugh at the psychotic box he pins himself inside of, then you cringe and fret for his safety, finally wanting to jump into the screen and throttle him just to make the torment of his choices stop before anyone else has to get shattered and bloodied because of them. Inde Navarrette as our [sort of] antagonist, Nikki, is so wholly convincing in her role of “supernaturally attached girlfriend” that you’re simultaneously enthralled and repulsed by how afraid of her you are [something that leans more and more one way as the film goes on]. Even the comic-relief character that these movies seem unable to wrench themselves away from manages to be so sincere that he feels more natural than written, and you’ll find yourself relating to all of these characters in some way at some point, or thinking of people you know who they remind you of. They’re very… alive in a way that’s impressive from a story this simple and a niche this basic.
Cinematographer Taylor Clemons speaks in a language so eldritchly uncomfortable that a simple conversation between two entirely mundane characters makes the goosebumps on your arms writhe and squirm, trying anything they can to escape the dread his shots impose. Nearly every scene in this is clearly curated to give the audience too much to look at to feel safe, while also dangerously narrowing their point of view; Like you’re in a plastic shark-cage, diving mask ruining your peripherals, just waiting for the big one to realize that these feeble bars don’t offer any real protection at all. This fear of what’s lurking just outside your vision — some horrid thing that sidesteps your eyes no matter how fast you turn to see it, feeling its breath, hot and hungrily whispering at the contours of your jaw — is given the worst kind of life by Rock Burwell’s blaring and rending score. Scenes play out amid tones that make your marrow boil and your ears try their best to close while you pay as close attention as you dare to the dialogue onscreen, knowing that the more you engross yourself, the more vulnerable you are to whatever comes next…
There’s a lot to like about this film, and my only real criticism of it is that it runs a few minutes too long. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: 1-hour and 40-minutes is the golden amount of time for most things like this to run, and I feel very strongly that Obsession would benefit from just a hair of editing to get it closer to that slot. While almost all of its plot elements are compelling and important, there’s a couple that could have been trimmed to move us at a slightly better speed; One that prevents even a modicum of relaxation. Though my critique on the simplicity of its plot still stands, this is a movie I can see myself not only watching again, but recommending to both longstanding horror fans and as a valuable entry into the genre as a whole. I think films like this are important — they pave the way for audiences to get fully engrossed into things that are more complex, intense, or sinister —, and I think that this one in particular shows a filmmaking prowess that’s going to shape this devilish landscape and its many niches for a long time to come.
There’s been a lot of horror entries in the past few years that have made waves not only within their own corners, but have very clearly broken the barriers of what both audiences and critics have come to think the word means. Things like Hereditary and The Witch posses us with their darkened corners and darker magics. Disaster horrors like It Comes at Night and 28 Days Later generate a fear of what could happen to our tomorrows, and strange twisting rides like The Killing of a Sacred Deer and Raw leave us disgusted, intrigued, and clamoring for more as the credits roll. While I don’t think this has the same depth as those entries, what it does is no less important; This is a foundational piece of modern horror, and one that should not be missed. Though it may be simple, Curry Barker’s debut film is the perfect vessel to launch into your brand new Obsession.
