Before we sink into the many layers of Obsession, let me get my superlatives out of the way first: WHAT A FILM! What an ingenious premise. What a climax. What incredible performances from the lead actors. Inde Navarrette is tremendous as Nikki, of course, but how good is Michael Johnston as Bear? Also, did I say, what a film?! All right, now that I’ve got the superlatives off my chest…
First up, Obsession, not unlike Nikki herself, isn’t what it seems to be at all. On the surface, you appear to be getting a film about a woman’s obsession with a man. But that’s obviously not the point at all. All you really need to consider is this: Nikki has been robbed of free will. She is a woman under a spell. (Interestingly, aren’t all people in love, to some degree?) To me, Nikki is a cracked mirror. And the disturbing face staring back through its pieces? Bear.
The film patiently peels away Bear’s layers, revealing not a villain, but a man like any of us, with desires and insecurities. Nikki’s obsession is merely a grotesque result of Bear’s wish: wanting this strange woman to love him more than anyone else she has ever loved (think about how unreasonable this wish is, and how romanticised it is in our head). What’s chilling isn’t Nikki’s obsession for him; it’s that Bear seems to accept her plastic version; it’s how long and to what extent he continues to want her.
The more I think about the film, the more I think about Bear. His seemingly harmless wish. His inability to accept refusal much earlier. In a film filled with frightening moments where Nikki appears to be the aggressor, perhaps the most terrifying scene of all arrives when Nikki is at her most vulnerable: The real Nikki begs for release, and Bear responds with a defensive line that lands so powerfully: “Why? What’s so wrong about being with me?” You realise this isn’t supernatural horror; it’s realistic, relatable.
I also thought of the many opportunities Bear has to put an end to all this, or at least show he cares beyond himself. Like when he calls customer service, hears Nikki’s horrifying screams on the other end, and… quickly hangs up. The real Nikki goes to great, disturbing lengths to make herself undesirable, but Bear cannot be repelled. The film presents him with exits, but choosing them would require that he look away from himself. Disturbingly, understandably, he cannot.
All great horror films are examinations of the human psyche. With Obsession, there is so much to think about once you step out of the theatre. I found myself thinking about romantic relationships, about the tragedy of losing yourself to another person, about the dangers of allowing love to become identity. Nikki is an exaggerated portrait of what happens when a person becomes entirely consumed by a partner. Bear, meanwhile, is an exaggerated portrait of what happens when self-worth becomes dependent on being desired by another.
Structurally too, the film is a masterclass in how it builds and releases tension. That car scene between Bear and Sarah is such a fantastic example of allowing some relief, some hope, before violently ending it (it sucks that the violence is censored). There is also a strange current of humour under all the horror. If you find yourself laughing at certain moments (I certainly did), it is partly because of the unbearable tension. But it is also because Bear’s suffering, on account of his wish, does feel absurd and almost deserved.
Perhaps the most enduring image from the film is that smile on Nikki’s face as she looks at her beloved Bear. At first, it seems genuinely sweet. But then, the smile continues to linger for another second. And then, for another. And before we realise it, affection has turned into fixation. Caring has become creepy. The film returns to this idea again and again, and I think it serves as a beautiful visual metaphor for love itself: how love, without limits and boundaries, can become something sinister.
I particularly enjoyed how beautifully, tragically, the film ends. Even after witnessing innocent people die, Bear’s selfishness remains. For a moment, the film even appears to offer him a twisted happy ending. But just as that possibility settles in, Obsession adds one final, devastating layer. The closing image, fittingly, is of Nikki.
And in that moment, the film reveals the subject of its thesis. It isn’t about a frightening woman who loves ‘too much’. It is, in fact, about a lonely, insecure man who seeks to be loved ‘too much’. And it’s frightening because Bear isn’t a monster lurking in the shadows. He isn’t inhuman. He’s, in fact, very much human… a sad human pining for love. Obsession isn’t about freaky Nikki; it’s about the man whose wish turned Nikki into one.