One aspect of this hit horror film that isn’t covered enough is its humor, especially with regard to its central supernatural instrument. Our hero, terminally shy, barely-of-drinking-age Bear (Michael Johnston), has a deep crush on his co-worker Nikki (Inde Navarrette), whom he’s known since they were kids. He wants to tell her his feelings but his other co-worker, Ian (Cooper Tomlinson), cautions him about stepping over certain lines, and Bear is intimidated by the remark, making him even more frustrated. So he resorts to a commercial gimmick, a novelty toy called a One Wish Willow, which you’re supposed to break in half as you make a wish so as to make the wish come true. Bear wishes that Nikki love him “more than anyone in the world.” The joke is that this toy seems to be mass-produced, and that the eventual bad outcomes of Bear’s wish are something that could have been predicted according to the merchant who sold him the thing. (“There’s a warning on the box, man.”)

The joke resonates under the surface of the story, which posits the current romantic landscape for Gen Z as a minefield dug by too many inchoate feelings chasing unrealistic expectations. Bear’s wish comes true: Nikki, slowly but surely, starts devoting her time and attention to him, at first with genuinely felt affection that nonetheless spooks Bear but eventually with a disturbing lack of inhibition that totally freaks him out. She becomes not only possessive of Bear’s affections but resentful of anything that may distract him from offering them to her, including other friends and acquaintances—even pets. As Nikki’s behavior becomes more and more unhinged, it’s clear to both Bear and the audience that the real Nikki still exists somewhere, trapped beneath the doting single-minded facade that Bear has conjured out of the ether of hell. For sure, the most terrifying moments of the movie are when Nikki’s true spirit breaks through in moments of panicked terror, scenes that director Curry Barker intensifies by often shooting Nikki in deep shadow. And the sex is void of genuine passion, which, given the general atmosphere, is disturbing rather than merely unfortunate. Of course, the movie contains its fair share of more conventional terrors, delivered with an abundance of gore and violence, but those sequences also come off as jokes, albeit ones you hope don’t turn into running ones. 

For all its formal sophistication and subliminal effectiveness in presenting the traps implicit in navigating modern-day sexual consent, Obsession, with its very small cast and simplistic plot, still feels more like a successful experiment than a fully fleshed-out movie production, but given the fact that it’s the biggest box office hit of the year that’s a drawback only a cinematic sourpuss would tout. Truth be told, maybe getting back to simple will do everybody some good. 

Now playing in Tokyo at Toho Cinemas Nihonbashi (050-6868-5060), Toho Cinemas Hibiya (050-6868-5068), 109 Cinemas Premium Shinjuku (0570-060-109), Toho Cinemas Shinjuku (050-6868-5063), Kino Cinema Shinjuku (03-5315-0978), Shibuya Cine Quinto (03-3477-5905), Toho Cinemas Roppongi Hills (050-6868-5024).

Obsession home page in Japanese

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