By MICHAEL GINGOLD
LURKER:
Starring Théodore Pellerin, Archie Madekwe and Sunny Suljic
Written and directed by Alex Russell
MUBI
SWEETNESS:
Starring Kate Hallett, Herman Tømmeraas and Aya Furukawa
Written and directed by Emma Higgins
Elevation Pictures
It’s no doubt a coincidence that two films that had their Canadian premieres at this summer’s Fantasia International Film Festival both dealt with male pop singers and the unbalanced young people who admire them. Given the wide disparity of styles and approaches showcased by the fest in general, it’s no surprise that these movies attack the similar subject in very different ways. And while SWEETNESS is the more strictly “genre” of the two, LURKER is the one that gets deeper under the skin through its psychological probing of a particular personality type.
LURKER, which sees theatrical release today, is set amidst the second-tier celebrity milieu of LA and stars Théodore Pellerin as Matthew, an employee of a small Melrose Avenue clothing store. One otherwise unremarkable day, up-and-coming Brit pop star Oliver (Archie Madekwe) wanders in; a stray line of dialogue informs that this isn’t his first visit, but this time Matthew is ready. He’s got a way to catch Oliver’s attention, and not only succeeds but gets himself invited to join Oliver and his team backstage at a concert he’s giving that night. There’s no sense that Matthew is any kind of longtime fan of Oliver’s music; Oliver just happens to be the celeb who has entered his orbit, and he’s going to make the most of the opportunity.
His entrée into this rarefied world doesn’t go smoothly; one of LURKER’s many finely pitched and played scenes is Matthew’s extremely awkward first meeting with Oliver’s entourage, which has a perfect punchline. Soon Matthew has not only been accepted into this inner circle, but Oliver has recruited him to help shoot a music video on his DSLR camera, and the whole group are impressed by the old-school-looking, handheld results (“This is some Spike Jonze shit,” one of them praises). Matthew’s becoming the Somebody he has clearly always wanted to be–and yet writer/director Alex Russell sprinkles in moments that make it clear he’s still an outsider, a hanger-on. The more he tries to keep his grip on his VIP-adjacent status, the more it starts to slip through his fingers.
There’s almost no violence in LURKER; the damage its people do to one another is emotional, but no less unnerving. Russell, who has been a writer and producer on acclaimed, psychologically dense series such as THE BEAR and BEEF, here tackles the enduring theme of the quest for fame in an acutely personal manner. Matthew doesn’t even seem to be after fame, specifically; he just wants to be accepted by and part of a world that to him is so much more meaningful than his home life with his grandmother. Yet he doesn’t realize that his desperation to remain in that rarefied environment makes him his own worst enemy, and Russell maintains a chilling sense of unease as we watch and wonder what he’ll resort to in order to stay there.
Shot by DP Pat Scola (A QUIET PLACE: DAY ONE) on a combination of 16mm film and that rough-looking video, LURKER feels authentic in both its exploration of the pop-music world and its unfolding of the souls of its people. The cast is excellent down the line, headed by Pellerin, who allowing us to fully understand Matthew even as we can share some of the other characters’ distrust of and distaste for him. Amidst its quietly intense drama, the movie is often morbidly funny too, with a number of scenes pointedly satirizing modern entertainment culture and star-worship, in an era where you can become someone’s hero just by making the right posts on your socials.
If LURKER is a THE KING OF COMEDY for the influencer age, SWEETNESS is a MISERY aged down to show how a downtrodden teenager pours all her hopes for salvation into her favorite singer. In a nice twist on that idea, writer/director Emma Higgins has the serious trouble start due to her young (anti)heroine’s desire to save him. Rylee (Kate Hallett) is a high-school outcast with a single, sometimes absent father (Justin Chatwin), one good friend, Sidney (Aya Furukawa), and a serious crush on Floor Plan frontman Payton Adler (Herman Tømmeraas), who sings the kind of impassioned ballads that girls like Rylee believe are intended just for them. Her bedroom wall is covered with photos of her idol, who has had drug problems in the past and is now on tour, promoting his new, cleaned-up self. And when he comes to Rylee’s area, she’s right up in the front of the adoring crowd.
Unfortunately, at least some of her illusions about Payton are about to be shattered. After they literally meet by accident in the parking lot after the show, he offers Rylee a ride home, and it seems to be her dream come true. He just has to make one little stop along the way, and it’s one that reveals he hasn’t gotten his addictions as under control as he claims. So Rylee makes it her mission to rescue him from his own worst impulses, taking him into her home–and not letting him leave.
SWEETNESS works for quite a while as a portrayal of two damaged souls coming together under entirely the wrong circumstances, with ramifications that can only get worse. Despite the extreme actions she takes, Rylee isn’t a calculating villain but a young, emotionally vulnerable girl who doesn’t have the life experience or mental sophistication to know that what she’s doing is wrong. Hallett, who was part of the much-lauded ensemble of WOMEN TALKING, carries the scenario with an empathetic combination of psychic wounding and misguided self-assurance. Still reeling from the death of her mother and anything but appreciative of the new woman (Amanda Brugel) in her dad’s life, Rylee finds a purpose in rehabilitating Payton by any means necessary, and Hallett fully lets us into her deeply troubled, irrational psyche.
The plotting, especially when the horror/thriller elements come to the fore in SWEETNESS’ second half, isn’t quite as convincing. The circumstances under which Rylee is able to continue keeping Payton in captivity become too convenient as the story goes on, and a few of the violent developments in the later going are predictable rather than shocking. There’s also a key setpiece that quite implausibly takes place in the middle of a daytime suburban neighborhood where nobody notices what’s going on. Higgins, making her feature debut after a number of music videos (experience that shows in her astute presentation of Payton’s sphere), is here a stronger director than a writer, and her confident handling of the material–and excellent choice of leading lady–carry SWEETNESS over the bumps in its narrative.
