Archie Madekwe and Théodore Pellerin (right) in 'Lurker.' **COURTESY OF SUNDANCE INSTITUTE**

Lurker: A Psychological Dissection

of Power, Manipulation, and the Illusions of Fame

Alex Russell’s Lurker presents itself as an All About Eve for the digital age, a trenchant deconstruction of ambition, opportunism, and the porous boundary between admiration and exploitation. Set against the atmospheric backdrop of the Los Angeles music scene—a domain teeming with aspirants, influencers, and those desperate to occupy the inner sanctum of celebrity—the film scrutinizes the social dynamics of power, desire, and performance.

Through its measured unraveling of a seemingly innocuous interloper turned master manipulator, Lurker probes the performative nature of identity in the age of Instagram, where visibility is currency and proximity to fame is often mistaken for genuine intimacy. Théodore Pellerin delivers an arresting performance as Matthew, a figure who initially appears as an unassuming sycophant but gradually asserts himself as a malevolent orchestrator of his own ascension. Opposite him, Archie Madekwe’s Oliver exudes the detached charisma of a star whose image has become more substantive than his self. The film operates as both an incisive social satire and a slow-burning psychological thriller, culminating in an ending that eschews conventional morality in favor of something far more chilling: the enduring allure of artifice.

At its core, Lurker is an exploration of how power is accumulated, wielded, and—perhaps most crucially—perceived. The narrative follows Matthew, a seemingly ordinary retail worker whose unassuming presence belies an acute understanding of social strategy. He does not fawn, he does not grovel—he simply positions himself, unobtrusively yet decisively, within the gravitational pull of Oliver, an ascendant pop star carefully curating his own mythology.

Pellerin’s Matthew is a fascinating study in calculated restraint. His approach to Oliver is neither that of an overt admirer nor an aggressive networker. Instead, he insinuates himself through the language of creative collaboration, presenting himself as an indispensable observer rather than a mere consumer of celebrity. When given the opportunity to document Oliver’s life through photography and video, Matthew carefully cultivates a dynamic wherein his presence is both tolerated and, crucially, needed. He does not merely wish to orbit Oliver; he seeks to define him.

Russell’s screenplay deftly constructs Matthew’s ascent, illustrating how access breeds entitlement. The film meticulously maps his evolution from passive observer to active architect of Oliver’s career trajectory, exploiting moments of insecurity and artistic stagnation to embed himself within the singer’s world. Oliver, for all his external poise, is ultimately fragile, susceptible to the flattery and manufactured serendipity Matthew provides. What begins as deference morphs into control, with Matthew’s influence becoming insidiously inescapable.

Visually, Lurker employs a stylistic approach that mirrors Matthew’s own methodology. The cinematography, particularly through the use of camcorder footage, underscores the constructed nature of celebrity narratives. The film is acutely aware of how digital culture reframes reality, capturing not just moments but manipulating their presentation. Matthew’s documentation of Oliver—ostensibly an exercise in capturing authenticity—functions instead as a process of ownership, wherein he dictates not just what is seen, but how it is remembered.

Cinematographer Pat Scola (Pig, Sing Sing) lends the film an atmospheric immediacy that oscillates between the polished opulence of Oliver’s world and the voyeuristic graininess of Matthew’s recordings. The distinction between lived experience and its mediated representation becomes increasingly blurred, reinforcing the film’s thematic preoccupation with self-mythologization.

Kenneth “Kenny Beats” Blume’s score, a textured blend of synth-heavy unease, further amplifies the film’s tension. The sonic landscape mirrors the gradual tightening of Matthew’s psychological grip, subtly shifting from ambient observation to something more insistent, more invasive.

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One of Lurker’s most compelling elements is its refusal to adhere to traditional narrative resolutions. There is no clear moment of catharsis, no definitive moral reckoning. Russell resists the temptation to either vilify or vindicate Matthew, instead presenting his trajectory as an inevitability in a world that rewards audacity over authenticity.

Madekwe’s Oliver is a particularly intriguing counterpoint to Matthew’s calculated ambition. He is neither wholly complicit nor wholly innocent; his desire for affirmation leaves him vulnerable to manipulation, yet his complicity in Matthew’s rise cannot be entirely discounted. His persona—a blend of effortless cool and underlying insecurity—makes him an ideal mark, yet his eventual submission to Matthew’s authority feels both tragic and strangely logical.

Supporting performances, particularly from Havana Rose Liu as the perceptive yet sidelined Shai and Zack Fox as the irreverent Swett, enrich the film’s world-building, capturing the tenuous alliances and latent hostilities that define creative ecosystems. Daniel Zolghadri, as the displaced Noah, provides a crucial counter-narrative to Matthew’s success, illustrating the precariousness of influence when built on proximity rather than talent.

Lurker is a film that lingers, not because it provides a neatly packaged conclusion, but because it refuses to do so. Its final moments, steeped in irony and calculated ambiguity, leave the audience complicit in Matthew’s triumph, forcing us to reckon with the unsettling truth that, in the ecosystem of celebrity, perception is often more powerful than reality.

Russell’s debut is a masterful dissection of fame’s parasitic undercurrents, a study of social mobility built not on merit but on manipulation. In its interrogation of power dynamics, identity, and the performative nature of connection, Lurker is both deeply unsettling and darkly exhilarating—a film that understands, perhaps too well, the lengths to which some will go to transcend the boundaries of mere fandom.