Lurker (2025), written and directed by Alex Russell, presents itself as a subliminal film that examines the toxicity of pop culture through an allegory of parasitism in the emergence of fame. At its core, it leans into themes of parasocial obsession, identity construction, and celebrity as a kind of social system. Rather than relying on spectacle, the film grounds itself in perception and lived experience. This comes through most clearly in its use of diegetic characterization, where elements within the film are not just stylistic choices but extensions of the story itself. One of the more interesting ways it does this is through its soundtrack. The film features a bi-layered original score by Kenny Beats, made up of both non-diegetic music and diegetic tracks performed in-character by Archie Madekwe as the pop star Oliver. At first, the songs can come off a bit corny, but they start to click as the film unfolds. “Sweet Talk” plays into charisma and appeal, “Snakes in the Garden” taps into paranoia within the entourage, “Domicile” reflects in-group dynamics, and “Love and Obsession” leans directly into parasocial tension. By the end, the songs feel less like additions and more like a story running alongside the main narrative, quietly reinforcing what the film is trying to say.
At the center of the film are Matthew (Théodore Pellerin) and Oliver, whose personalities operate in tension rather than opposition. Matthew begins as observant and socially aware, positioning himself as nonchalant when meeting Oliver for the first time. He is performative enough to impress Oliver to invite him to hang out at an upcoming show. As his connection to Oliver grows, that observational stance becomes more coercive and manipulative. He does not simply document the environment but begins to shape it, subtly directing outcomes in ways that secure his position. Oliver, by contrast, embodies a form of charisma that feels effortless yet dependent on those around him. He is magnetic and socially fluent; he is not passive in how he holds power, either. He may come off as effortless, almost whimsical, but there is intention behind who he keeps around and how he lives his life. He chooses his circle, and he is fully capable of exerting control when he wants to. When he decides to distance himself from Matthew, it is deliberate, and it shows just how he controls his life. Consequently, Oliver’s entourage feels less like a group of friends and more like a system where everyone is trying to hold their place. Oliver’s friend, Noah (Daniel Zolghadri), is one of the first places where you can see a shift in dynamics. As Matthew gets closer to Oliver, Noah starts to feel less like a friend and more like something that is being left behind. There is a quiet tension there, not because Matthew initially does anything wrong, but because he begins to see him as a replacement. He immediately views Matthew as a threat and acts with jealousy. That same tension plays out in reverse with his work friend, Jamie (Sunny Suljic), growing closer to Oliver as the movie progresses. Same as with Noah, Matthew views Jamie as a threat and does his best to manipulate their growing connection from happening. Not only were the characterizations rich in the film, but the dynamics between them were constructed in a way that landed the allegory of pop culture as a lived experience perfectly. In this way, you see an engulfment of envy and jealousy as a collective driver for behavior.
At the level of trope, this dynamic extends beyond character interaction and becomes structural. The film draws on the familiar structure of an outsider infiltrating an inner circle, but reframes it through contemporary pop culture conditions. Fame is not presented as a distant abstraction but as a social system shaped by perception and visibility. The in-group operates as a closed circuit where identity is negotiated through usefulness and alignment rather than formal hierarchy. This is what drives the plot forward. Movement within the group is incremental and often implicit, which gives the narrative its tension. Advancement is not declared. It is inferred through shifts in attention and relevance. Interestingly, the real-world dynamics are sociological in their construction. The film examines how pop culture fame produces micro-hierarchies that mirror broader social stratification. The entourage functions as an in-group that both includes and excludes, maintaining cohesion through subtle forms of gatekeeping. Status is contingent and continuously renegotiated. Matthew’s trajectory illustrates how entry into such a system requires both adaptation and performance, but also how that same performance can become unstable when it is driven by comparison rather than position.
His fall is therefore self-inflicted in a structural sense. As Matthew begins to interpret closeness as entitlement, his actions shift from integration to control. Jealousy becomes the operative force, not as an isolated emotion but as a lens through which he reads the behavior of others. The arrival of a new figure in the group triggers the same insecurity he once exploited in others. In attempting to secure his place, he accelerates his own displacement as a self-fulfilling outcome. The system attempts to push him out, so Matthew turns to a plan that anchors his position through blackmail. His inability to remain useful exposes the fragility of the place he worked to obtain, so he does what he has to do to not become another Noah. The introduction of the blackmail scheme marks a decisive shift in the film’s trajectory, though its execution is somewhat lackluster. After a prolonged buildup that carefully establishes the social dynamics and Matthew’s place within the group, the turn itself occurs with a suddenness that feels disproportionate to the narrative investment in getting there. This compression can undercut the weight of the moment, making it seem as though the narrative accelerates past what should be a pivotal development. At the same time, there is something effective in how the move functions structurally. It operates as a kind of reversal, where the mechanisms Matthew used to embed himself within the group are turned back onto the system itself. This inversion aligns with the film’s broader thematic concerns, revealing how access can be weaponized just as easily as it can be used for inclusion. While the pacing of this shift may feel abrupt, the conceptual framing of the act reinforces the instability of the very structure Matthew sought to control.
Additionally, a subtle but notable dimension of the film lies in its treatment of sexuality, which operates less as identity and more as a social instrument within the dynamics of power. Interactions between Matthew and Oliver introduce moments that blur conventional boundaries of attraction without fully resolving into overt expression. In one instance, Oliver feigns romantic/sexual interest in Matthew during an attempt to mitigate the implications of blackmail, suggesting that intimacy itself can be used as a tactic rather than an authentic impulse. This ambiguity is mirrored in Matthew’s own behavior. Particularly in a last effort to preserve his position within the group, he makes a suggestive gesture by stroking Oliver’s necklace, an act that was relationally calculated rather than emotionally grounded. The film further complicates this dynamic through scenes in which both characters engage sexually with women while maintaining eye contact with one another, creating a layered tension that displaces the act from its immediate context. These moments do not position the characters within a fixed sexual identity, but instead highlight a form of fluidity in which seduction is separated from romantic desire and re-contextualized as a mechanism of alignment, control, and social negotiation.
What would I criticize? The pacing is deliberately slow, but the payoff does not proportionally justify that investment. The central shift in control occurs in a low-key moment that lacks sufficient emphasis, making it easy to miss despite its structural importance. This creates a mismatch between buildup and execution. While the film relies on subtlety, it occasionally crosses into inertia, where the narrative stalls rather than accumulates tension. It felt like there should have been more emphasis on the locus control shift. It is also extremely melodramatic in its storytelling, leaving you wondering when something is finally going to happen. I would even surmise by saying it was a relatively boring movie, something that does not really work to gain your attention. That said, you must maintain attention in order to catch the subtle plot shift which gives the movie its object. It was relatively cinematically uninteresting, though it works conceptually with its unique multimedia integration. What can I appreciate? Despite the quick shift in plot dynamics, I liked how the film does not unfold as you might expect. I also appreciate the diegetic elements, which reinforce the lived reality of the story being told and land the allegory. It is not just some made-up story, but a relevant telling of real world issues. You can almost position it as a tale as old as time, in that it reflects human capacity within structured power dynamics–our ruthlessness, our thirst to climb social ladders, our exploitative nature.
Despite the film ending with an award ceremony, it echoes a social maxim: stepping on the toes of others in your rise to the top leaves you with no one to celebrate you in the end. Given his hesitance in the closing question, Matthew knew exactly what he did to achieve the dreams he fought for. All in all, what Lurker (2025) does well makes it worth watching. It may not be the most visually engaging film, and its pacing can test your patience, but there is something deliberate in how it unfolds. It asks you to pay attention, not just to what is happening, but to what is shifting underneath it. If you are willing to meet it halfway, there is a strong moral to take from the story, especially in how it frames ambition, identity, and the cost of belonging. For that alone, it stands out. Ultimately, this parasocial thriller will resonate most with those interested in pop culture, fame, and self-transformation.
