Based on the marketing of Curry Barker’s smash horror hit Obsession, you may be led to believe that the villain is in plain view. Nikki, with her erratic mood swings, utter lack of social consciousness, extreme codependency, and brutal acts of violence, has all the makings of a “crazy girlfriend” archetype. How terrible it must be for everyone around her that she chooses to act this way, right? Except, there is no choice involved. There is no Nikki, but rather, a demented distortion of her conjured up by the film’s protagonist, Bear. For all of the terror and thrills this movie provides, I believe its true brilliance lies in how it holds up a dark mirror to the male loneliness epidemic, revealing a reality shaped not by victimhood, but an inability to self-reflect.

Bear begins the film as a relatively sympathetic character, evidently struggling with depression and low self-esteem. He also likes a girl, but can't quite figure out how to tell her, a very common and relatable situation. Even early on, however, the cracks of his psyche begin to show, as during a car conversion with Nikki, he fails to see the difference between love and romance. Whereas the former is grounded in growth, honesty, and mutual understanding, the latter (especially in the context of how Bear perceives it) is a fleeting fantasy, in which a person’s value is determined by how they fulfill the need for self-validation. As the film goes on, it becomes evident that Bear does not value Nikki as a person, but rather, needs the idea of her to work, because it is the only thing that gives his life meaning. Bear gets exactly what he wants, a romance, but in doing so, subjects her to a loss of autonomy and violated consent. It is the horror of male loneliness incarnate, where such loneliness breeds entitlement, which in turn breeds objectification and abuse.

Even when the real Nikki pleads for Bear to kill her, to end her suffering, his bruised ego can only muster self-pity: “What would be so bad about being with me?”, he asks, refusing to acknowledge his selfish desires because after all, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, right? That is, of course, until everything begins to fall apart, costing his friends their lives, and trapping Bear in a hopeless situation, the same way he trapped Nikki. By that point, he can only resort back to his greatest sin: cowardice. You see, Bear is not evil in the traditional sense, but rather, a monster because at every opportunity, he refuses to take some initiative and do the right thing. When Nikki confronts him about his feelings towards her, he shuts her out, and resorts to making the wish. When it becomes clear to Bear that Nikki isn’t acting like herself, rather than investigating further, he takes advantage of her. When presented with a potentially selfless decision, to overdose and free Nikki of her spell, he only does so to free himself, and can’t commit to his own selfishness, as he attempts to throw up the pills. In the end, it is his own obsession that destroys him, with "Possessed Nikki” making the same wish upon him before he can prevent the overdose. Even in death, as Nikki is finally freed of her curse, Bear leaves her bloody, bruised, and broken, with little hope of recovery.

The premise of making a wish that backfires is a tale as old as time, but Obsession’s depiction of the concept is so profoundly tragic because of how preventable it is. Had Bear been brave enough to look deep into the mirror, to work on himself and embrace self-love, then perhaps he could have developed, if not a romance, then a real, meaningful relationship with Nikki. Instead, he clings onto the toxic, destructive cycle of male loneliness, where self-acceptance is no substitute for what the world at large owes you for all your suffering. I only hope that men take this masterpiece in the spirit it was intended: a timely, cautionary tale about what happens when the evil of cowardice controls your life.


8/7/2026