‘Obsession’ Takes Gen Z’s Social Anxiety to Extremes


The following contains spoilers for the movie Stress.

The premise of the hit horror movie Stress It might sound similar: What if you loved someone but were too afraid to express your feelings to them? In the opening scenes of director Curry Barker’s feature, a 20-year-old record store employee named Bear (played by Michael Johnston) can’t seem to get the job done asking his co-worker Nikki (Inde Navarrette)—even when he wants to know, frankly, if she likes him. Instead of proving that he does and dealing with the consequences, he chooses a different path in his heart. He hits a magical tchotchke (called “One Wish Willow”) in the center and hopes that Nikki will love him more than anything in the world.

That desire becomes more than Bear has ever discussed. Nikki transforms from a free-spirited girl into a jealous woman who tapes up Bear’s front door, puts his dead cat’s meat in his sandwiches, and lurks in dark corners watching him sleep. He loves Bear more than anything, sure, but that “love” comes at the cost of his ego. From there, the line “Be careful what you wish for” is taken to a higher level, acting out a kind of anxiety spiral for Gen Z: feeling trapped by their social fears.

At 26 years old, Barker speaks directly to his generation—the Movie zoomers– by preparing a meal due to the problems that bother them a lot between people. Stress doesn’t seem to be very interested in issues like intimate partner abuse, although it could easily be interpreted as a mystery. Instead, Barker uses the story of a boy magically convincing a girl that he loves her as a way to explore social anger. Researchers have been able to to be investigated teenagers’ hatred of dating, sex, and human relationships in general; the idea tends to be that these feelings are fueled more by the virtual world of social media monitoring and the culture of instant gratification afforded by smartphones. Indeed, people of Bear’s and Nikki’s age sometimes view potential interpersonal conflicts—asking a friend why they made them up, telling their partner to stop leaving their dirty dishes in the sink—as instances of deep emotional distress; instead of engaging, they may be more attracted to the idea of ​​a quick fix, even if that fix creates a desire for a new toy.

Stress he uses the fear of confrontation to his advantage, translating that anxiety into real fear. It begins with Bear sweatily rehearsing his planned declaration of love to Nikki with another friend, acutely aware of all the trouble that could arise from being honest with her. But later, when Nikki directly asks him if he loves her, Bear freezes and says nothing. Fidgeting in his car as he drives off, he doesn’t even stop to think if Nikki might reject him—he wishes the possibility would go away. By doing so, he forces her to act against her nature and turn her life into a nightmare. But at least no one has to be vulnerable or have any difficult conversations about their feelings—whew!

In Bear’s defense, the film also doesn’t deliver on credibility. One key scene has Sarah (Megan Lawless), another of her co-workers, about to tell Bear that she loves him. The two stay together in Sarah’s car to avoid Nikki, who seems dangerously protective of her relationship with Bear. But they are not hidden enough; suddenly, Nikki appears with a brick, smashing the window and slamming Sarah’s face into the steering wheel until she dies. These and other acts of infidelity show how well Barker understands the neuroses of his own age group: He gets what’s scary about taking chances.

StressThe desire to reflect the fear of young people behind them has certainly resonated with his audience. In the three weeks since its release, the film has become a phenomenon: It has made more than $100 million (on a budget of less than $1 million), and sent viewers home arguing on social media about who the “real villain” is and the nature of Nikki’s ownership, as well as the principles of Wish Wish in the first place. The film is ripe for the kind of close-read analysis that plays well on social media: Is Bear a con man aware he’s tormenting the girl he thinks he loves? Is Nikki possessed by an evil, demonic version intent on punishing Bear for his wrongdoing? Or maybe the real demon is the fear of romantic failure.

That the 26-year-old director’s film has traveled well online is understandable. And Barker’s Gen Z sensibility shows in other ways. Stress includes more than a few IYKYK news of online culture, which appear to be imitations Navarrette special effects makeup after “uncanny valley” trend.and chose a song from a popular TikTok music video, the Little Dippers’ 1960 song “Forever” to play over the credits. Even Barker’s filmmaking history is typical of his generation: He cut his teeth on YouTube, acting in and directing comedy shorts with friends. You can see hints of this event in his first article, a moment of gentleness set in the midst of fear.

Barker’s anxious generation may continue to ponder the question of “What’s the worst that could happen?”, but Stress gives an answer in uncertain terms. Telling someone about your feelings can be one of the scariest moments in a teenager’s life: What if he doesn’t love you back? What if they really like you? Maybe acting will save you from a world of pain, the film suggests. But at the same time, maybe doing so isn’t worth the risk—it’s probably safer to keep quiet and keep moving.





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