Obsession review: man is the real monster in Monkey Paw-style horror

At first glance, Obsession looks like a familiar horror riff on the Monkey’s Paw: a simple wish-gone-wrong tale that spirals into tragedy. But Curry Barker’s latest pushes the premise into darker, more topical territory, centering not only on supernatural consequences but on the very human rot of entitlement and coercion.

The film gives us a small cast and a tight, escalating nightmare. What begins as an eerie fantasy about desires coming true becomes a disturbing study of who we fear—and who we should fear most. The shocks and technical craftsmanship are impressive, but it’s the moral unease that lingers.

How Obsession retools the classic “wish” story

Obsession borrows from the well-worn cautionary tale where a wish brings payoff with hidden costs. In this version, Barron “Bear” Bailey (Michael Johnston) is the archetypal nice-guy-to-borderline-creep who resorts to a novelty item called a One Wish Willow to engineer his romantic fantasy. Nikki Freeman (Inde Navarrette) is the object of his desire.

Rather than simply delivering supernatural twists, Barker uses the device to reveal character. The magical prop functions as a plot engine, yes, but the movie’s real engine is the way people around the wish respond—or fail to respond—to its moral implications.

Scenes that unsettle beyond jump scares: consent on screen

At the heart of the film is a sequence that refuses to let viewers chalk the horror up to demonic forces alone. After Bear realizes the affection he’s engineered is the result of the wish rather than genuine feeling, he does not undo it. Instead the film cuts to a sexual encounter in which Nikki’s demeanor—vacant and unmoored—strongly implies she is not capable of authentic consent. That framing turns what could have been a standard horror beat into a profoundly disturbing depiction of exploitation.

This is not a fantasy about romance; it’s a depiction of non-consensual control. The scene forces the audience to confront a simple truth: coercion, even when enabled by supernatural means, reflects real-world abuses of power.

Bear’s choices: entitlement as the film’s true horror

Bear is positioned early on as lonely and misguided, but his actions peel back a darker psychology. Once he recognizes that Nikki’s behavior is a product of magic, his instinct isn’t to stop causing harm—it’s to preserve his own fantasy. He treats the situation like a problem to be managed rather than a person to be saved.

Traits the character embodies

• Selfishness: prioritizing personal desire over another person’s autonomy.
• Entitlement: believing emotional or physical intimacy can be claimed rather than earned.
• Elitism of emotion: insisting someone “should” feel a certain way because he wants it.

When the narrative demands a moral reckoning, Bear lashes out instead of listening. One of the film’s most harrowing moments comes when the unaltered Nikki breaks through and begs for release from her own suffering—and his reaction is anger, not empathy. That response reframes the movie from a supernatural thriller into a portrait of a man whose obsession is with power and ownership, not love.

Performances and technical craft that raise the stakes

Inde Navarrette’s portrayal of Nikki is one of the movie’s strongest assets. She shifts from warmth to unsettling obedience in ways that keep the audience guessing about where the spell ends and the character begins. Johnston’s Bear is equally effective as a study in bad faith: charming on the surface, clearly dangerous underneath.

The film is also technically accomplished. Barker and his team use sound design and musical cues to create tension that doesn’t rely solely on jump scares. Lighting, editing, and pacing work together to make quieter scenes feel as threatening as loud ones.

What the film says about wider cultural issues

Obsession resonates because it mirrors patterns many people—especially women—recognize in everyday life. The movie dramatizes how someone can be reduced to an object of desire, and how easily that reduction allows for harm. It’s a horror film that points a mirror at misogyny and predatory behavior rather than only at supernatural antagonists.

• Consent can’t be manufactured. A relationship built on coercion or manipulation is violent, regardless of the mechanism that produced it.
• Accountability matters. The film suggests that when individuals choose preservation of desire over responsibility, damage follows.
• Cultural spaces that normalize entitlement—online forums, pickup-culture communities, or private echo chambers—are implicated when characters like Bear go unchecked.

Why it feels uncomfortably familiar

One reason Obsession lands so forcefully is that its fears read like everyday experiences for many. The film’s monsters are not only supernatural; they are recognizable men who reduce women to bodies, who expect compliance, and who believe affection can be commanded. That recognition is what elevates the movie beyond conventional genre fun into something far more chilling.

Practical takeaways and viewing notes

If you plan to see Obsession, be prepared for material that engages with sexual violence and psychological manipulation. The horror is both cinematic and social—meaning conversations about consent, culpability, and the role of bystanders are as relevant as critiques of camera work and score.

• Trigger warning: depictions of non-consensual sexual activity and emotional abuse.
• Strengths: strong lead performance, effective soundscapes, thematic ambition.
• Expect to leave the theater thinking about who the story really blames—and why that matters.

Release info and ways to continue the conversation

Obsession is currently playing in theaters. For viewers who want to dig deeper into the film’s themes, community screenings and post-show discussions are useful ways to unpack its commentary on consent and power dynamics.

For readers interested in similar film coverage and analysis, signing up for entertainment newsletters or following critical film writers will surface more in-depth takes and conversation starters about how genre cinema reflects social anxieties.

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David Miller

David Miller is an entertainment expert with a passion for film, music, and series. With eight years in cultural criticism, he takes you behind the scenes of productions and studios. His energetic style guides you to the next big releases and trending sensations.