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You haven’t heard of Oliver. Not yet, at least. You’d recognize the type, though. He’s a twentysomething British pop singer, blessed with a brooding handsomeness and a soulful, sad-boi sound — a little bit of the Weeknd, a whole lotta Zayn — that’s extremely Spotify-friendly. He’s famous enough to have an entourage, a huge house in a posh part of Los Angeles, and young fans trying to sneak selfies. But Oliver is right on the cusp of being the kind of artist who can move units and get away with just using his first name. He’s still one irresistible banger, one undeniable album away from official superstardom.
Still, the guy working behind the counter at the clothing boutique where Oliver (played by Saltburn breakout star Archie Madekwe) is currently browsing? He definitely knows who singer is. His name is Matthew (Théodore Pellerin). This retail grunt exudes awkwardness and a kind of skin-crawling self-consciousness that screams “red flag.” Yet Matthew is the only one playing it cool while the celebrity in the room causes a minor commotion. He cues up the Nile Rodgers’ deep-cut “My Love Song for You” on the store’s speakers.
Suddenly, Oliver perks up: Yo, you know this song, bro? It’s my jam! Matthew confesses he loves it as well. He doesn’t tell him that he saw the track being namechecked on Oliver’s Instagram a few weeks back, or that he’s fully aware of the customer’s musical influences. The gamble pays off. Matthew gets invited to see Oliver’s show that night. It’s a first step into the inner circle of rising showbiz royalty. Now the normie simply has to learn how to remain in it.
A portrait of a sycophant as a pure, unbridled sociopath, Lurker understands the relationship between fame and fandom all too well. More importantly, the feature film debut of Alex Russell gets how the pecking order within those who orbit around potential supernovas can change in a nanosecond. A producer and writer on shows like Beef, The Bear, and Dave, Russell has specialized in a sort of one-cringe-fits-all type of storytelling — the kind of narrative in which comedy, drama and horror all congeal together in a stew of humiliation anxiety. He also knows how to play with audience sympathies and the nebulous concept of “likability” in regards to protagonists. You’re clearly being set up to root for the underdog. The filmmaker ensures you don’t see the bared canine fangs until it’s too late.
The mix of flattery and feigned ignorance gets Matthew backstage, which is where he meets the rest of Oliver’s crew. Swett (Zack Fox) is the entourage’s alpha, with Bowen (Wale Onayemi) as his unofficial second-in-command. Noah (Daniel Zolghadri) is the group’s videographer. Shai (Havana Rose Liu) is Oliver’s manager, and the only person who recognizes what’s really going on in terms of the constant jockeying for position. Swett orders the new kid to drop trou, then mocks him for doing whatever he’s told to. Matthew eventually one-ups the request by losing his boxers as well and going full Winnie the Pooh, which earns him the respect of his fellow suck-ups. He’ll debase himself more if it means he gets to stay. Later, when they all end up at Oliver’s place after hours, Matthew glimpses some hanger-on he hasn’t met being summarily exiled from the house. A pattern is now coming into a focus.
This is the game that Lurker employs in the name of sustaining tension: How far will someone go to remain in the king’s favor? And at what point does that irrevocably turn into too far? “Make yourself useful,” Shai advises. While Matthew is initially sidelined — if not getting outright shafted by the other Oliver-adjacent folks, who are also trying to maintain their place in the hierarchy — he eventually pulls a few dirty tricks to establish himself within the entourage. The singer assigns him the plum role of documentarian-in-residence, in charge of capturing Oliver’s rise to fame once he finishes what’s sure to be his upcoming breakthrough. A photo shoot in London ends badly enough to make Matthew persona non grata. But much like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction, he will not be ignored. You’d be surprised the things you can capture when you’ve constantly got cameras running, the slippery situations you can engineer in the name of survival, and how easily you can blackmail your way back into the good life.
Russell has cleverly fooled you into thinking you’re in the presence of a be-careful-what-you-wish-for parable, with Matthew being just another fanboy marionette frantically dancing on a string; in case the metaphor isn’t clear, the movie drops James and Bobby Purify’s “I’m Your Puppet” on the soundtrack early on. But by the time that 1967 R&B classic is reprised, the power dynamic has completely shifted. Lurker understands the master-servant interplay between a famous figure and his retinue well enough to turn the tables on it, and reveal that you’re actually watching the most fucked-up self-actualization story imaginable. “We all want the same thing,” Matthew says, in regards to his competition for Oliver’s attention and affection. “I just want it more.” In the end, everyone gets what they’re after — for a price. And what you get is the sort of irony-rich indie film that leaves you in a state that’s equal parts nausea and bliss.
