obsession

Imagine a movie shot on a shoestring budget of under a million dollars. Now, picture that same film shattering expectations by raking in a staggering $400 million globally and breathing fresh life into modern cinema. Well, the wait is finally over because the digital release has officially dropped.

Obsession. It’s all about pure fixation.

What’s up, everyone? In this Video, We’re talking about a psychological horror thriller directed by a young, new-generation YouTuber. Honestly, this kid’s track record is incredibly impressive, and the film has been taking the global box office by storm.

The hype grew purely through word-of-mouth. Literally every single person who watched it couldn’t stop raving about it to their friends. That organic buzz drove massive crowds straight to the theaters—so much so that the studio actually pushed back the streaming release just to keep riding the wave of theatrical ticket sales.

Word on the street is that Hollywood heavyweights like Steven Spielberg and Christopher Nolan caught a screening, with Nolan allegedly being completely blown away by it.

According to the director, Kerry Barker, both Spielberg and Ari Aster personally reached out to him. Honestly, given the madness surrounding this film, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s 100% true.

So, who exactly is Kerry Barker? He’s a content creator running a YouTube channel called “A Bad Idea”—which, by the way, I’ll link down in the description below so you can check out his work. Looking back at his story, he spent his teenage years working at Starbucks before finding his footing on TikTok with comedy sketches. Once those went viral, he transitioned to YouTube to make longer-form comedy content. Eventually, his deep passion for filmmaking led him to write and direct a short horror project.

That’s when things really took off. He created projects like One Chair, One Lion, and a mini-series. They absolutely blew up on YouTube, generating massive internet discussion, with a lot of community circles calling it some of the finest horror fiction of recent years. The hype got so big that an investor eventually messaged him saying, “Look Kerry, I’ll fund you to adapt The Chair into a full-length theatrical feature.” Kerry essentially replied, “I appreciate the cash, but I’ve got a completely different concept instead.” That brand-new pitch became Obsession, backed by a $750,000 budget.

It’s wild to think about, but this 26-year-old creator pulled together a team of completely unknown young filmmakers and wrapped the entire shoot in just 26 days. And look at where they are now.

In this video, I’m giving you a completely spoiler-free breakdown of the film along with my raw review. If you’ve already watched it, definitely drop your own take in the comment section below to help out the rest of the community.

To give you a quick, spoiler-free premise to see if this is up your alley: we follow an awkward protagonist named Bar, who turns to a supernatural entity to force his best friend to fall in love with him. The spell works entirely too well. The girl becomes profoundly, terrifyingly infatuated with him, turning her life into a complete living nightmare as the plot spirals into genuine horror.

Going into this, I kept wondering: is the internet just overhyping this? Can a movie still deliver that raw, authentic cinematic entertainment we all miss? Let’s dive into how it actually holds up.

The very first thing that stands out is the incredibly heavy atmosphere Barker builds. The movie carries this almost intoxicating, toxic energy. It feels inherently poisoned, mirroring the female lead who seems to be paralyzed by a deep, emotional toxicity that strips away her agency. The filmmaking itself mirrors this sickness perfectly. In fact, the entire plot kicks off with the protagonist’s cat getting poisoned, which triggers a series of bizarre events. But hold on, we’ll get into that in a second.

Style-wise, the film leans heavily into discomfort, blending psychological tension with sudden, jarring scares to maintain that unsettling, diseased vibe. Visually, the director chooses a restricted, narrow aspect ratio, cropping the sides of the screen.

Whenever a filmmaker does this, I usually question whether it’s just a cheap gimmick or if it serves a purpose. For Obsession, it absolutely works. The characters are trapped in an incredibly tight spot narratively, and that claustrophobic framing reinforces that feeling of entrapment. Because of this, anything happening in the corners of the screen feels far more prominent and carries way more visual weight. To heighten the anxiety, Barker strategically utilizes quick zoom-ins and zoom-outs. He does this very intentionally—you won’t find random zooming in the quiet middle sections of the film. It’s a calculated technique used to make the imagery feel explosive, and because the frame is already narrowed, those sudden movements hit twice as hard.

And while we’re talking about the atmosphere, we have to talk about the soundtrack. The score is honestly on par with projects from legendary directors who collaborate with world-class composers. The music is incredibly good, so when you watch this, pay close attention to the sound design and the score. It does so much heavy lifting.

Now, let’s look at the core theme: the concept of your ultimate life dream warping into your absolute worst nightmare. It’s a brilliant premise. However, the actual mechanism of the plot—where you go out, purchase a mysterious object, unbox it, break something inside, make a wish, and it magically comes true—feels a bit juvenile on paper.

In fact, this entire setup is heavily pulled from a legendary classic horror short story from 1902 called The Monkey’s Paw. If you’re unfamiliar, that story revolves around a mummified paw brought to a family gathering. The family is told the paw can grant three wishes, but there’s a catch: the wishes are granted in the most bitter, tragic way imaginable. You get what you ask for, but at a devastating cost.

In Obsession, you get your wish, but the script leaves the origin of this magic entirely vague. Where does this power come from? Why does this box hold magic? It’s a bit childish. But the real magic of the film isn’t the setup—it’s the execution. It’s how the director expands on this premise. The sheer creativity, the endless stream of creepy, fascinating concepts he throws at the screen as the story progresses is brilliant.

The movie doesn’t waste a single second of its run time. Instead, the narrative acts like a snowball rolling down a hill—constantly moving, gaining momentum, and growing bigger and more intense by the minute. If you lock in and give this film your full, undivided attention, you reach a point where you stop caring about the “why.” You don’t need to know the origin of the curse or the logistics of this toxic atmosphere because the ride itself is so incredibly well-executed.

Kerry Barker actually addressed this. He mentioned in an interview that he deliberately avoided the cliché of having the characters buy this cursed box off the dark web. He wanted the object to feel incredibly mundane—something highly accessible that anyone could easily go out and buy. He felt that making it ordinary made the horror feel much closer to home. It actually makes you wonder about those decorative boxes you see in local markets. Could you have just picked one up years ago? Of course, if you buy one today, it’s definitely not granting any wishes.

At its core, the film asks a deeply haunting question: if you have to force someone to love you, can you really call that love? It shines a harsh spotlight on emotional artificiality.

Think about it. If you use power, wealth, or some supernatural force to drag someone into your life as a partner, is what they’re giving you genuine affection? What if they are only there for your money? If you look at it from the other side—being with someone solely for material gain—the affection you pretend to offer is a facade. And that is where the real horror festers.

Deep down, your authentic self is locked away, suffering in silence while you choose to ignore it. Bringing someone into your life under false pretenses like this completely corrodes your soul. It might look beautiful on the surface at first, but the film is constantly whispering that it’s all a lie.

If you look closely at the female lead, the makeup design is a genius touch. It’s intentionally exaggerated. Her skin looks completely artificial—almost like she’s had way too much Botox, leaving her eyes looking incredibly small and restricted. Past a certain point in the story, she stops feeling human. She looks like a living doll. This isn’t her true self; her physical reality has become a cage for her trapped spirit. That zombie-like, vacant expression is incredibly effective and deeply unsettling.

Underneath the horror, this movie is a deep dive into the human obsession with control. It explores the dark reality of trying to completely dominate another person, showing how both individuals eventually end up trapped in a toxic, shared prison. Yet, despite the darkness, the initial portrayal of their relationship is surprisingly sweet. The filmmakers carefully walked a fine line, keeping the girl’s humanity intact to make the entire scenario feel grounded and believable.

To pull this off, the actress playing Nikki, along with director Kerry Barker, drew heavy inspiration from films like Ari Aster’s projects and Pearl. Specifically, they looked at Mia Goth’s performance in Pearl—a character who, despite being utterly consumed by her terrifying obsessions, still has these deeply human, heartwarming moments that make you emphasize with her. They channeled that exact energy to build Nikki, making her an incredibly chilling, authentic, and convincing character. And honestly, she absolutely crushed it; she is the character.

The actress behind Nikki is Indianna Tynan, who actually had very limited acting credits before this because she was primarily a streamer. She used to spend her time gaming, live streaming, and uploading content to YouTube. Thanks to the movie’s success, her old streaming archives are completely blowing up on YouTube right now. I actually saw a hilarious comment under one of her old videos that said, “Now I finally get why Nikki’s behavior felt so unnaturally artificial.” It’s funny because looking back at her streams, there’s always been this distinct, quirky awkwardness to her mannerisms.

On the flip side, the boy playing Bar is portrayed by Michael Johnstone, who is mostly known as a singer. And for me, that’s where the scales tip. While Indianna delivers a massive, heavy-hitting performance, Michael just can’t seem to keep pace. Whether it’s a lack of formal acting experience or an inability to fully inhabit the character, he just couldn’t quite pull it off. This acting imbalance is one of the film’s noticeable flaws.

That being said, the director uses some brilliant foreshadowing tricks. If you pay close attention to the very beginning of the film when Nikki is still completely normal—just a sweet, adorable girl—there’s a brief moment where her eyes glaze over with this cold, stone-dead stare that is deeply unsettling. These are incredibly clever, subtle psychological setups planted in the audience’s mind. It prepares your subconscious so that when her mental breakdown inevitably happens later on, you fully accept it and feel genuine dread.

Thematically, the film acts as a sharp critique of the objectification of women, addressing how society often treats women like commodities to be possessed. It manages to convey this overwhelming sense of demonic possession without relying on typical Hollywood tropes. I won’t spoil anything, but there is an incredibly gripping sequence that will literally send chills down your spine. Keep an eye out for it—it’s wild how the director creates a suffocating sense of supernatural possession through just two or three lines of dialogue and pure atmosphere.

At the same time, the movie tackles the theme of cowardice. The protagonist, Bar, is fundamentally spineless. He has plenty of opportunities to confess his feelings to the girl under normal, everyday circumstances, but he lacks the courage to do it. Instead, he hides behind magic to do the heavy lifting for him, forcing her to fall in love.

This is a blistering critique of modern relationships and how cyberspace has fractured human communication. We live in an era where connecting with people online seems effortless, yet facing someone in the real world has become terrifyingly difficult. It’s a modern epidemic—this profound inability to build genuine connections outside of the digital bubble. The film captures this tragedy so well that I found myself feeling deeply sorrowful for both Bar and Nikki. For me, the true villain isn’t a person; it’s the sequence of desperate actions that forced them into this corner. The script brilliantly balances your emotions, forcing you to feel a complex mix of sympathy and fear for both leads simultaneously.

The dialogue itself is remarkably simple. The film’s true strength lies in its masterful atmospheric world-building. It doesn’t rely on groundbreaking cinematography tricks or revolutionary lighting setups to make a girl look terrifying. Instead, it relies entirely on the collective impact of its sick, dread-inducing, and toxic environment. It is pure, atmospheric evil.

Even Tom Holland shared that he watched this in a packed cinema, and the crowd was a chaotic mix of screaming, laughing, and crying all at once.

It provided that exact, collective theater experience that reminds you why going to the movies is so magical in the first place. One of my subscribers actually shot me a DM mentioning that the audience in their theater was simultaneously cracking up and terrified—it was apparently a wild vibe to experience in person.

Now, to be clear, Obsession isn’t trying to be a horror-comedy. It just executes its premise so effectively, and mirrors real-world absurdities—like the dynamic of a profoundly toxic relationship—so perfectly that you find yourself laughing through the discomfort. It’s not attempting to be something like Bodies Bodies Bodies, which is explicitly branded as a comedy-horror; rather, it just unlocks this unique, bizarre viewing experience if you watch it under the right conditions. And honestly, this is the second time in this video I’m emphasizing the importance of how you watch a movie.

Let’s dive into a crucial point for all my fellow horror fans out there. Obsession definitely has its genuine scares, but it feels like the director’s true passion leaned much closer to crafting a psychological thriller. In fact, he actually drew inspiration from his own father, who is a psychiatrist, to ensure the psychological elements grounded the script perfectly. Still, the film absolutely delivers when it comes to raw horror.

But again, your mileage will vary depending on your viewing environment. How you watch this matters. For my screening, I waited until midnight, killed every single light in the house, left only the TV screen glowing, and cranked the volume all the way up. I was completely by myself. And honestly? It legitimately freaked me out in quite a few scenes.

Look, I already know what the comment section is going to look like. Every time a horror review drops, people rush to type: “That movie wasn’t scary at all, I can’t believe you got spooked by that trash!” Well, good for you for being completely fearless! Personally, it got to me.

All jokes aside, do yourself a favor and give this film a fair shot by setting the right mood. Watch it in pitch-black darkness, with a solid sound system or headphones, and turn it up loud. If you do that, certain sequences will genuinely rattle you. I won’t claim it left me mentally scarred or completely miserable, but let’s just say sleeping alone in the dark afterward wasn’t the easiest task. At the end of the day, cinema is entirely subjective.

You might turn this on and absolutely hate it, and that’s totally fine. I personally loved it. There’s no need for us to argue over who got scared and who didn’t. Instead, let me know in the comments if you gave it a fair shot under the right viewing conditions. Did it manage to creep you out, or did it miss the mark? Break down your thoughts for me. Tell me when you watched it and whether it resonated with your taste.

To give you a better benchmark, let me compare it to a few other titles. If your horror taste aligns with films like Midsommar—which operates in a completely unique, unsettling atmosphere—or if you were captivated by The Substance recently, there is a very high chance Obsession will be right up your alley. It also shares a lot of common ground with Talk to Me, which happens to be one of my absolute favorite horror releases from the past few years. Just like Obsession, Talk to Me deeply divided audiences when it came out, but it was incredibly cool and didn’t feel forced at all.

Drop your takes below so we can see where the community stands. Let’s see which side wins the percentage game. Historically, the people who dislike a movie are always the loudest in the comment section. It’s a classic YouTube and Instagram phenomenon: the people who genuinely enjoy a film usually just watch it, smile, and move on without saying a word. I have no idea why it works that way, but it completely skews the comment section toward the negative. Then, casual viewers scroll through the comments, see the backlash, and instantly write the movie off as garbage. Honestly, it drives me a little crazy!

Think about the reality here: this is a film shot in a mere 26 days with zero marketing budget. It relied entirely on hitting a few film festivals to get noticed, to the point where distributors were practically throwing punches at the Toronto International Film Festival just to secure the rights. And what did it ultimately deliver? It kept me completely glued to the screen, gave me a genuine thrill, introduced the world to an incredibly talented young director, and officially cemented a new name onto the legendary list of iconic horror women in cinema history.