The “culture wars” are so unpleasant that the word “fan” is used derisively. If being a “fan of The Beatles” once meant that someone enjoyed the band’s music, then today’s definition of a “Star Wars fan” is an Internet troll who has spent time harassing the Lucasfilm executives that made the franchise “too woke.” The most significant development within fan culture in the digital age is the access outsiders have to celebrities, who’ve been willing to share details about their personal lives.
The idea of an “enraged fanboy” isn’t new. Martin Scorsese’s The King of Comedy provided a blueprint, as a character like Robert De Niro’s Rupert Pupkin would’ve probably earned a few endorsement deals and podcast appearances had the film debuted four decades later. The Incredibles, which is still one of the best superhero films ever made, featured a villain who turned on Mr. Incredible after the world-saving superhero told him that he “worked alone.” Even a piece of historical speculation like The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford made a case that it was James’ larger-than-life persona that turned his biggest admirer into his dubious killer.
Lurker is different from those examples because it’s as critical of the individual characters as it’s scathing in its assessment of social media culture. While the film’s protagonist Matthew (Théodore Pellerin) has the same muted social skills of Pupkin or Robert Ford, he’s not incompetent. When given the opportunity to meet his idol, the rising hip-hop star Oliver (Archie Madekwe), Matthew’s able to leave an impression through a persona of indifference. Matthew’s identified that Oliver wants someone to treat him like a messianic figure within the London music scene.
The funniest observation in Lurker is that Matthew and Oliver aren't that different, even if one of them is a retail employee with a minimum wage, and the other is a pompous partygoer surrounded by a group of “yes men” that serve as his “friends.” Matthew does have some talent as an editor and filmmaker, but he’s been convinced that he’ll never amount to anything because he doesn’t have the same “gifts” that Oliver does. However, Oliver’s revealed as a shallow artist who just happened to connect with a TikTok crowd. He’s a fad that isn’t destined to last.
Lurker is most terrifying when it’s focused on the ease it takes to infiltrate a niche circle, and the surprising benefits that a parasocial relationship could have. Matthew has studied Oliver to the point that he has surprisingly thoughtful insights on how to improve his stage performances, brand control, and musicianship; Oliver’s too egotistical to analyze himself, but Matthew’s forceful input is enough to change his mind. The friction within their friendship has nothing to do with artistic integrity; it’s nothing more than a petty feud between infantilized young adults. Matthew isn’t “cool” enough for Oliver, who’s comfortable to abandon him.
It’s a prickly because Matthew is warranted some sympathy, even if his relationship with Oliver was built on false pretenses. Oliver’s behavior doesn’t suggest he’d be any more lenient with someone he met through organic circumstances. The assumption made by Oliver’s generation is that they can feign vulnerability for the sake of fame, and live comfortably without fear of their intentions being misjudged. Matthew’s an embodiment of these consequences, but he’s also not a pathetic wannabe-celebrity in the vein of The Incredibles’ Syndrome. Even if he’s willing to use Oliver as a crutch, Matthew would rather support another artist’s rise to prominence than develop a career of his own.
Lurker is perceptive in its depiction of the highs and lows of club culture. A danger presented by social media is that influencers are so concerned about their current status that they have little desire to leave a legacy; Oliver isn’t interested in what he’ll be doing in five years because it doesn’t affect his current number of followers. The only disruption he’d face is a potential dip in popularity, which Matthew is determined to avoid. As sharp and borderline nihilistic as Lurker is, it does raise an interesting question about longevity; would Oliver be willing to sacrifice his individuality in order to sustain a career?
Lurker is filtered through modern debates about intersectionality. The sexual tension between Oliver and Matthew isn’t more important than their broader power dynamics, but it’s too explicit to be considered “subtextual;” likewise, Matthew’s desire to “own” Oliver as a subject is uncomfortable given the latter is a person of color. There are times in which both characters are shallow, but that isn’t a detriment.