Alex Russell’s Lurker is the kind of movie that makes you want to set your phone on fire and move to a cabin in the woods, yet you can’t look away from it for a single second. Premiering at Sundance before hitting theaters via Mubi in late 2025, it’s a psychological thriller that feels less like a fictional story and more like a biological study of the modern fame machine. It’s a film about the jagged, blurry line where fandom ends and stalking begins, and how easily the people we admire can become the people we own.
At the center of this spiral is Matthew Morning, played by Théodore Pellerin with a jittery, desperate energy that is deeply uncomfortable to watch. Matthew is a retail worker in Los Angeles, the kind of guy who feels like he’s constantly auditioning for a life he hasn't been invited to yet. His break comes when a rising pop star named Oliver, played by Archie Madekwe, walks into his store. Matthew doesn't just ring him up; he performs for him, playing a deep cut from Oliver’s discography over the store speakers. It’s a calculated move that works. Oliver, perhaps flattered or perhaps just lonely in the way only the famous can be, brings Matthew into his inner circle as a documentarian.
This is where the film begins to tighten its grip. As Matthew trades his retail vest for a camera, he becomes the shadow in the room. He is the guy filming the parties, the private conversations, and the quiet moments of a burgeoning superstar. Initially, Oliver’s entourage, played with pitch perfect skepticism by Zack Fox, Havana Rose Liu, and others, looks at Matthew like a stray dog that followed the boss home. But as Matthew begins to shape Oliver’s visual identity for a new album cycle, he becomes indispensable. He stops being a fan and starts being an architect of Oliver's image.
The tension shifts from social awkwardness to genuine dread with the arrival of Jamie, played by Sunny Suljic. Jamie is a former co-worker of Matthew’s, another fan who wants a piece of the light. When Matthew reluctantly helps him get close to Oliver, the jealousy that has been simmering under Matthew’s skin starts to boil over. It’s a fascinating look at the gatekeeping of celebrity. Matthew doesn't just want to be near Oliver; he wants to be the only one near him. He views his proximity to fame as a hard earned trophy, and any threat to that status is met with a cold, calculated ruthlessness.
What makes Lurker so effective is how it handles the power dynamic between the star and the fan. Archie Madekwe plays Oliver with a mix of charisma and vulnerability that makes you understand why someone would lose their mind trying to please him. He’s not a monster, which makes the situation even more tragic. He’s a young man trying to navigate a world where everyone wants something from him, and he mistakenly thinks he’s found a true friend in Matthew because Matthew isn't a yes man.
The film suggests that the most dangerous person in the room isn't the one who hates you, but the one who claims to be pushing you to be a better artist. Matthew uses his camera as a weapon, documenting every mistake and every lapse in judgment. When things go south and the entourage tries to push him out, the movie takes a dark turn into blackmail and psychological warfare. It asks a blistering question: what happens when the person filming your life decides they own the narrative?
Alex Russell’s direction is sharp and claustrophobic. The cinematography often mimics the handheld, intrusive feel of a documentary, making the audience feel like they are also lurking in the corner of the room. The score by Kenny Beats is a masterclass in modern tension, using rhythmic pulses and distorted electronic tones that feel like the heartbeat of a panic attack. It doesn't sound like a traditional film score; it sounds like the inside of a nightclub where the music is just a little too loud and the exits are blocked.
As the group travels to London and eventually embarks on a tour, the film explores the idea of the entourage as a volatile ecosystem. It’s a world built on loyalty, but also on utility. Matthew knows that as long as he is useful, he is safe. When he stops being useful, he becomes a parasite. The way he clings to his position, using footage as leverage and psychological manipulation as a shield, is genuinely harrowing. He argues that the pressure he puts on Oliver is necessary for great art, a terrifying justification for what is essentially a hostage situation.
There is a deeply political and social undertone to the film regarding the way pop culture has turned us all into content creators and consumers of each other's lives. We are living in an era where the famous and their fans are constantly chasing each other’s tails, as critic Owen Gleiberman noted. The film captures that frantic, circular energy perfectly. It’s a critique of a society that rewards the hustle and the grind regardless of the moral cost. Matthew isn't just a stalker; he’s an extremist of the attention economy.
The film's final act is a haunting meditation on the cycle of ambition. Without giving away the specifics of how the tour ends or how the documentary is received, the movie concludes on a note that suggests the problem isn't just Matthew. It’s the entire culture that produced him. When a young fan approaches Matthew at a film festival and asks, "What do I have to do?" to be like him, it’s a chilling reminder that there is always another Matthew Morning waiting in the wings, ready to pick up a camera and start lurking.
Théodore Pellerin’s performance is nothing short of incredible. He manages to make Matthew pitiable, terrifying, and deeply human all at once. You see the hurt in his eyes when he’s excluded, and the cold calculation when he finds his opening. It’s a transformative turn that carries the weight of the entire film. Sunny Suljic also shines as the catalyst for Matthew’s spiral, bringing a youthful innocence that makes the eventual fallout feel even more brutal.
Lurker is a movie that understands the specific sickness of Los Angeles and the broader sickness of our digital age. It’s a psychological thriller that doesn't need a high body count to be terrifying. The horror is in the realization that in our quest to be seen, we might let the wrong person behind the curtain. It’s a visceral, human story that feels like it was written in the comments section of a viral video and filmed in the back of a tour bus.
Ultimately, Alex Russell has created a film that is as stylish as it is substantial. It is a grim, beautiful look at the price of entry into the world of the elite. It’s about the mistakes made by people who think they are in control, and the victims who pay for those decisions simply by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. If you want a thriller that reflects the world we actually live in, a world of cameras, clout, and the desperate need for connection, Lurker is the most important film of the year. It’s a funeral for privacy and a celebration of the obsession that has replaced it. Just be prepared to feel like someone is watching you long after the credits roll.
Lurker is now available to own on Blu-ray
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