Obsession a brilliant metaphor for addiction
I’m going to assume Bear, the protagonist in Curry Barker’s brilliant horror film Obsession was absent the day The Monkey’s Paw was read in his language arts class. W.W. Jacobs’ seminal cautionary tale drives home again and again that if you happen to have a wish-granting talisman, you must be very specific when stating your heart’s desire. Word choice counts and those that ignore this, do so at their own peril.
Alas, it is a lesson that comes too late for Bear in this disturbing tale of relationship claustrophobia. Barker’s second feature serves as a horrific metaphor for addiction and mental illness, the director tightening his grip on the audience as he forces them to witness one poor woman’s descent into madness. Anchored by an exceptional performance from newcomer Inde Navarrette, the movie utilizes the limitations dictated by its modest budget to wonderful effect. Its narrow narrative and visual scope underscore the physical and emotional confines Bear is forced to contend with as well as the story’s intimate nature.
Like so many young men in love, Bear (Michael Johnston) is uncertain as to how to express his feelings toward Nikki (Navarette). Co-workers and confidants, he finds himself in an age-old dilemma. Relegated to the “friend zone,” Bear’s afraid that were he to tell Nikki he loves her, their friendship would suffer and she would rebuff him. Getting no help from his goofball buddy Ian (Cooper Tomlinson) and oblivious to the interest his other co-worker Sarah (Megan Lawless) is showing him, Bear is twisting himself into knots, his uncertainty keeping him up nights.
However, while in a New Age wellness shop, he comes across what he assumes to be a novelty item. Called “One Wish Willow,” the harmonica-sized box contains a piece of braided wood that, when broken, grants whatever wish is stated as it’s snapped in two. Purchased on a whim and intended to be a gag gift for Nikki, Bear in jest wishes that she will love him more than anyone in the world. It soon becomes apparent there’s more to this item than meets the eye, as Nikki’s behavior undergoes an immediate and rapid change that quickly proves disturbing.
As Nikki becomes more clingy, Barker exacerbates his already cramped aesthetic. Using a narrow 1:78:1 aspect ratio, the director establishes a sense of confinement for Bear that becomes tighter as the film progresses. Nearly every scene takes place in an interior setting while Taylor Clemmons’ cinematography seems to be composed of varying levels of gloom. Shadows and low-key lighting suffuse each scene, with Barker employing tighter and tighter shots on his doomed protagonist as Nikki’s sanity slips away and her actions become more violent. Johnston drives this home effectively, his posture becoming progressively withdrawn. You’ll be anxious to get into the sunlight as soon as the credits begin to roll.
Barker uses humor effectively throughout, keeping the audience off guard as his frequently macabrely funny scenes are followed immediately by a shocking moment. Nikki’s outlandish behavior is met with reactions of disbelief from her friends and co-workers that mirror our own sense of astonishment. A party she crashes goes from funny, to cringy, to horrific in a moment’s notice, while her efforts throughout to keep Bear close to her are equally amusing and disturbing. The capper though is Bear’s phone call to the “One Wish Willow” customer service line, which results in an increasingly comedic scene revolving around Gen Z indifference.
It’s a shame that like Toni Collette’s performance in Hereditary and Florence Pugh’s in Midsommer, Navarette’s work here will likely be overlooked come awards season. Fully committed to her role, like watching the above-mentioned actresses, you can’t help but become concerned with the performer’s well-being. Navarette gives a full-throttle effort, transforming before our eyes from a pleasant young woman to a monster of need, compelled by a mania she doesn’t understand. That she’s able to convey the initial humor of Nikki’s situation as well as a degree of sympathy for her throughout is impressive.
In a film year with an already seemingly inordinate number of horror films, Obsession rises to the top. Though shot on a $1 million budget, this is an expertly crafted film, one that takes a common party conversation topic and turns it into a relatable nightmare. Clever and compelling from beginning to end, Barker immediately serves notice he’s a director to watch, Obsession earning the oft over and misused phrase of praise “instant classic.” In Theaters.
Dynamic Jude Law can’t save dull Kremlin
I’m quite sure those interested in the history of late 20th-century Russia will be taken by Olivier Assayas’ The Wizard of the Kremlin. Based on the historical fiction novel by Giuliano Da Empoli, viewers with the knowledge of how Vladimir Putin came to power will likely be fascinated by the behind-the-scenes look provided here as well as be incensed by any liberties taken with the truth.
To be sure, here in America only a very slim slice of the movie-going public will flock to this European production. Frankly, I’m surprised its being released in theaters here at all, yet Vertical Entertainment is taking a chance on it. I suppose they need losses to write off like any other major corporation.
The question for those of us who don’t know the difference between a Bolshevik and a Stalinist, is whether there is anything else of interest in Wizard that might grab our attention? Other than a dynamic performance from Jude Law, not much, as the film suffers no fools where its subject matter is concerned. Hitting the ground running, Assayas and his co-writer, Emmanuel Carrere, aren’t interested in providing a primer on Russian politics from 1950 to 2000, which is understandable. Unfortunately, they fail to give us a protagonist we care about which may have caused the ignorant viewer to lean in and become engaged on a humanistic, emotional level.
The film opens in 2019 with an American professor (Jeffrey Wright) visiting Moscow to do research on a biography of writer Yevgeny Zamyatin. He’s summoned to the home of Vlad Baranov (Paul Dano), a retired Russian spin doctor who shares an interest in the author. The pair bond over this and before you know it, they are sitting down to tea and for the next two hours, Baranov reveals all he knows regarding the machinations that led to Putin’s rise.
His tale begins in the mid-1990s, the Russian people still trying to get their footing after Mikhail Gorbachev’s dismantling of the Soviet Republic. Baranov takes advantage of the new but short-lived sense of liberalism that’s emerged and begins to work in the theater. His radical productions lead him to working for a national news service. There he gets the attention of Boris Berezovsky (Will Keen), an oligarch who takes him under his wing. He has an ulterior motive as he wishes to use Baranov’s media expertise to help bring Putin (Law) to power.
Had the screenwriters focused exclusively on this, the film may have been more engaging. As it is, things get bogged down with far too many ancillary characters and incidents that prove distracting. Baranov’s love affair with Ksenia (Alicia Vikander) a vacuous opportunist, adds nothing as does a subplot involving oligarch Dmitry Sidorov (Tom Sturridge), who’s ultimately used as a scapegoat by Putin’s administration. Scenes involving Wagner group leader Yevgeny Prigozhin (Andris Keiss) and poet Edouard Liminov (Magne-Havard Brekke) lack context and beg to be developed.
However, as they all plays out, Law captures our attention whenever he appears, which isn’t often enough. The actor has been engaged in a quiet renaissance, succeeding in challenging roles in films that have been regrettably overlooked. Peter Pan and Wendy (2023), Firebrand (2023), The Order (2024) and Eden (2024) all show the actor at the top of his game, subtly pushing himself to display a range that’s oft been overlooked. The same is true here, his steely presence used to great effect as Putin, Law providing the character with an icy, snake-like demeanor that proves chilling.
Wizard falls victim to the trap so many historical films stumble into. In its effort to cram the events of two decades into a 135-minute feature, it does none of them justice and as a result, gives the viewer little of interest. It’s a movie brimming with incident but is somehow dull as dishwater. I couldn’t help but wonder if Baranov’s skills of manipulation couldn’t have made this inert production a bit more palatable. In Theaters.
Creatures a small antidote for callousness
With each passing day, the world makes less and less sense to me. There’s a callousness in the air, a sense that looking out for others has gone the way of the dinosaur and that if you’re not putting yourself first, you’re a fool. To combat this, I find myself spending more time with my dog and any others who cross my path. There’s a dignity in the unconditional acceptance they give to all they meet that should be emulated by one and all. I also go out of my way to find stories relating acts of human kindness. Big or small, any anecdote that tells of an act of generosity is needed and welcome. They serve as tiny bits of fuel that rekindle my soul, with their scarcity making them all the more valuable to me.
I guess that’s why Olivia Newman’s Remarkably Bright Creatures appealed to me. A flawed film to be sure, it’s one that has its heart in the right place as well as a cast committed to delivering its message with style and sincerity. Based on the novel by Shelby Van Pelt, the movie manages to pull off its rather outlandish story with a sense of finesse that’s surprising, the director’s subdued approach effectively muting any incredulity that might occur among viewers.
Recognizing a good role when she sees it, Sally Field serves as one of the film’s producers and stars as Tova, a lonely widow whose life has contained more than its fair share of tragedy. Though she doesn’t need the money, she works as a cleaning lady at a nearby aquarium, a job she takes very seriously. She enjoys the quiet as well as the seemingly one-sided conversations she has with another old soul, an octopus named Marcellus (voice by Alfred Molina). What she doesn’t realize is the invertebrate senses her sadness, saying he “detects a hole in her heart,” something he sets out to fix.
Just how he goes about doing this is better left unsaid and proves to be one of the movie’s great delights. If nothing else, you’ll be tempted to learn more about these amazing creatures after seeing Marcellus’ outlandish acts, none of them out of the realm of possibilities.
These are only two of the many lonely souls in Creatures. Chief among them is Cameron Cassmore (Lewis Pullman), a rather aimless musician who’s come to town to find the father he never knew, only to get stranded when his van breaks down. Needing quick cash in order to fix it, he gets a job at the aquarium, crossing paths with Tova, an event that will change their lives in ways they could never predict.
What connects them is a stretch, but the film builds up so much good will, you’ll likely excuse it. Coleman and Van Pelt employ it with the best of intentions the payoff it precipitates worthy of the conceit.
The movie is populated by a bevy of familiar faces, Kathy Baker, Joan Chen, Beth Grant and Colm Meaney among them, none given enough to do but each a welcome sight. Not the first rodeo for any of them, each knows how to deftly do their part in helping to deliver the film’s message regarding the importance of mourning and the avenues opened up through forgiveness. In the end, Creatures proves to be much like Marcellus, as it too knows what ails us as well as how to subtly cure us. Streaming on Netflix.
This article appears in May 14-20, 2026.
