Shelby Oaks
Written and directed by Chris Stuckmann
Starring Camille Sullivan, Sarah Durn and Brendan Sexton III
Classification 14A; 92 minutes
Opens in theatres Oct. 24
There is a surprising and even daring shift in perspective that occurs about 20 minutes into Shelby Oaks, the feature directorial debut from Chris Stuckmann, a YouTube pioneer thanks to his early aughts film-review vlogging. (He’s up to more than two million followers now.)
Initially, it seems as if Shelby Oaks will unfold entirely as a faux-documentary, one tracing the mysterious disappearance of a group of internet-famous ghost-hunters who called themselves the Paranormal Paranoids, their online virality skyrocketing after they seem to become the victims of their own obsession.
Already, that’s a neat enough spin on the found-footage horror genre that swept up a certain generation – well, Stuckmann’s generation – starting with 1999’s The Blair Witch Project. But then Stuckmann pulls the rug out from under the film – or maybe adds another carpet on top of the meta-contextual conceit – by turning “off” the mockumentary cameras and turning Shelby Oaks into a full-fledged narrative horror flick, a movie nestled inside a fake movie that itself followed maybe-real-maybe-not ghost hunters.
Those who can’t do, review? Not so for Chris Stuckmann, YouTube reviewer turned filmmaker
Regrettably, that impressive switcheroo is the only real trick up Stuckmann’s sleeve, as the rest of Shelby Oaks proceeds to unfold in ways both expected and regretted. As Mia (Camille Sullivan), the older sister of the missing sleuth Riley (Sarah Durn), begins to mentally unravel over the mystery, Stuckmann’s film begins to feel overwhelmed by its many obvious influences (most of which the filmmaker has provided deep dives into over the years via his YouTube page). There is the abandoned-prison spookiness of Brad Anderson’s Session 9, the missing-person obsession of Joel Anderson’s Lake Mungo, the demonic possession hijinks of Ari Aster’s Hereditary, and too many Blair Witch nods to count.
The script, which has a “story by” credit from Stuckmann’s wife and fellow genre enthusiast Samantha Elizabeth, jumps all over the place in tone, from wild to solemn, with no real resting place in between.
The game cast handles the material well enough, especially Canadian actress Sullivan – whose character is pushed into pitch-dark corners – but some more familiar bit players, whom Stuckmann seems to have convinced to join the party at the last minute (Michael Beach as a cop, Keith David as a warden) have difficulty properly chewing the especially hard-bitten dialogue. Meanwhile, a few brief flourishes of intense gore cannot help but clash with a mood that mostly whispers bloody murder instead of screaming it in your ear.
Stuckmann comes by his love of the medium honestly – compared to today’s swarm of questionably credible social-media influencers, he’s practically Pauline Kael. But Shelby Oaks isn’t the watershed moment that YouTube’s film community might have been hoping for – though it’s still wise to keep your eyes on a spigot.