Obsession Review

This review is based on a screening which took place at the 2025 Fantastic Fest Film Festival.

If you’re a TikTok scroller, you probably know Curry Barker from his sketch comedy channel, That’s a Bad Idea, or maybe you’ve seen his horror videos on YouTube, like the widely acclaimed full-length feature, Milk

Michael Johnston stars as Baron, aka Bear, an employee at Cassell’s Music. Upon introductions, everything seems innocent enough; Bear has a crush on his bubbly and adorable co-worker, Nikki (Inde Navarrette), and nervously prepares to finally ask her out. He fumbles the message, the opportunity passes, and that’s when Bear turns to higher powers, opening a box labeled “One Wish Willow” which supposedly grants a single wish to the user. Bear holds the $6.99 Willow stick, says he wishes Nikki loved him more than anyone in the world, and snaps the enchanted object. Nikki reappears out of nowhere, and from then on – with no boundaries – Bear’s wish comes true.

It’s the ultimate anti-romantic comedy setup that turns into nothing short of a psychotic Hallmark special inversion. The monkey’s paw effect is in full force as Bear finally gets attention from Nikki, but the consequences snowball into a catastrophic situation he cannot control. Obsession unravels from bad to worse over and over again, all the way until a gut-punch of an ending that’s like Stephen King doing a Shakespearean tragedy. Barker’s vision knows no limitations, making me think of other recent and absolutely bonkers horror debuts like It’s What’s Inside or Barbarian.

Obsession is a more contained beast than those films, however. The film’s success rests on Johnston’s and Navarrette’s shoulders, the latter of whom delivers my favorite performance from this year’s Fantastic Fest. Johnston’s role as the soft-spoken, timid “nice boy” is the doormat he needs to be, while Navarrette is a revelation. Her role as Nikki is the girl next door who’s glitching out, like this uncanny valley take on Nicholas Sparks novels. One minute, Nikki’s a fantasy housewife, glued to Bear’s side; the other, she’s a sleep paralysis demon, watching him snooze from a shadowy bedroom corner, slinking about with unnatural movements. The way Navarrette comes in and out of consciousness, much like split personalities, is eerily seamless. She also emotes hilariously while scream-crying like a sitcom wife or unleashing violent furies to get Bear’s attention.

Obsession is also a fantastic take on toxic relationships from the outside in, thanks to Cooper Tomlinson’s Ian and Megan Lawless’ Sarah. They’re colleagues and friends of Bear and Nikki, who watch the strange shift in behavior as the two lead characters become an immediate storybook couple. Where Bear sees nothing wrong because Nikki finally worships his existence, Ian and Sarah see an unhealthy connection. They make crucial acknowledgments about Nikki’s loss of self as she becomes just an extension of Bear. Barker’s intentions may be to shock and repulse, but his erratic satire of one-sided partnerships speaks loudly about the distinction between love and lust, and how desperation can transform us into jealous, ugly monsters.

That said, Obsession isn’t only a character dissection. It may rely on conversational tension and rich performances, taking a minute to really hit its full stride, but the nastier elements flash sharp fangs. What starts with strange offerings, like Nikki creating a kitchen memorial for Bear’s dead pet, kicks into a breakneck genre climax that mounts with crushing pressure. All Bear can do is plaster a thousand-yard stare on his face and watch as his wish ruins countless lives. Threats turn to violence, snuggles turn to captivity, and Bear has to swallow the harsh reality that his selfishness is responsible for all the chaos that ensues. It’s an immeasurably grim cautionary tale, but in the most rewarding and entertaining of ways.