'Lurker' Creeps Under Your Skin [Fantasia 2025 Review]

At one point or another, I’d imagine all of us have dreamt of fame and fortune. When you’re a kid, innocence allows you to picture the glamor, the adoration, the fancy food and gleaming mansion with a pool. Then reality sets in. You realize that not only is there a one in a billion chance of that dream coming true…it also comes with a massive cost. To achieve that level of success, you must make certain sacrifices. And for those outside of the glitzy life? Some are willing to do anything just to be in the inner circle. Having just played at Fantasia, writer/director Alex Russell’s Lurker peeks around the corner at the toxic relationship that exists between artists and their fans.

We meet Matthew (Théodore Pellerin), a clothing store employee with a love of music. When up and coming musician Oliver (Archie Madekwe) enters the shop, the two hit it off and the rising star invites Matthew to his show that night. Before he knows it, he has become part of Oliver’s circle. Glitz. Glamour. Girls. It’s a dream come true. Until Matthew’s position is threatened, and he realizes he’ll do whatever it takes to remain in the presence of Oliver.

​Russell doesn’t take long to convince us that Matthew is the type willing to shame himself just to be around a star. In an early moment, he enters Oliver’s dressing room, where he finds the singer and his entourage all sitting with their pants down. They order Matthew to do the same, and after some palm-sweating, he does. Seemingly innocent, the action acts as an unsettling precursor for what’s to come. If he’s prepared to drop his pants just because Oliver tells him to, what else will Matthew do? The awkward embarrassment sets the tone for Lurker, representative of tense notes permeating throughout. Nearly every second of Russell’s film is designed to make the audience uncomfortable.

Pellerin enhances that discomfort in a subtle performance that shows restraint and careful calculation. As it should, because that’s the name of the game for being in Oliver’s circle. The actor portrays Matthew as a quiet observer, searching for any and every opportunity to impress his new “friend”. He might as well leave a trail of ice behind him with how cold he is. I’m not sure there’s even a single scene where Matthew raises his voice. It would be too easy to say he’s a snake. He’s more like a chameleon. He says what Oliver wants to hear. Does what Oliver wants him to do. Matthew is just a name. The man who carries it is willing to be whoever he must be to stay in the basking glow of Oliver’s fame. Russell and cinematographer Pat Scola force us into the shoes of this obsessive fan with a camera that creeps and lingers. In Lurker, we become Matthew, and that’s as unsettling as it sounds.

For as much build-up as Lurker sets down, where it ultimately goes may leave some as disappointed as a crowd that’s just learned the concert has been cancelled. That’s because the horror is less in what Matthew does, and more in what Russell’s film says about fame. See, Oliver isn’t necessarily an innocent victim here. He treats Matthew—and everyone around him—like tools. Useful until they’re not. One moment, he’s calling Matthew his best friend, the next, ditching him like he’s nothing. Russell implies a sort of necessity to Matthew for Oliver, as if to say the musician needs the pain and fear that his most obsessive fans inspire in him to create. To thrive. To feel. Perhaps that’s true of Oliver. Perhaps not. Either way, Lurker sizzles and steams for much of its run time, only to peter out in an inconsequential conclusion that carries some honestly about fame but offers little satisfaction. The outcomes of Lurker never quite match the tension that precedes them.

Questionable as Lurker’s third act is, Russell nevertheless displays an innate ability for crafting tension that plays the nerves like a violin. It’s a film that slithers under the skin like a cold worm, creeping and crawling in directions that we don’t always see coming. I can’t say I’m a fan of its shoulder shrug of an approach to the idea that fame is toxic and entails a whole lot of backstabbing. But it plays those notes effectively. Lurker drags us down into the awkward, creepy, gross nature of what some are willing to do for success, fans and artists alike. And that, my friends, is an uncomfortable place to be.

Lurker creeps into theaters on August 20th from MUBI. 

By Matt Konopka