I rarely go to the cinema these days, but I made an exception for Obsession as its reception has been nothing short of sensational among audiences and critics. From its title, I expected a serious drama or psychological thriller. Instead, Obsession, written and directed by Curry Barker, is a supernatural horror film – a genuinely frightening one – making it suitable only for mature audiences.
Without giving away too much, the story follows Bear, a young man whose wish for the love of his friend Nikki unleashes a terrifying curse that quickly spirals beyond his control. I believe what has resonated so strongly with audiences has less to do with its cleverly-wrought conventions of the genre, and more to do with its haunting insights into the fallen reality of romance after the Fall.
The film first explores obsession through Bear’s relationship with Nikki. They are friends and coworkers, but the sheer intensity of the feelings and thoughts Bear entertains about Nikki convinces him that he loves her more than anything else in the world. In other words, he idolises her.
After foolishly missing the perfect opportunity to be more transparent with her, he turns to what is known in the story as the ‘One Wish Willow’ and makes a radical wish: that Nikki too would “love” him more than anything else in the world. This allows the horrifying logic of obsessive love to play itself out.
Among other things, two strange developments follow. The first is that Nikki begins to behave in an inauthentic manner, as though overcome by a spirit at odds with her true self. The second is that Bear remains oblivious to the manipulative power he now holds over her.
One of the film’s most compelling scenes takes place in a restaurant. Bear discovers that Nikki has been willing to lie in order to manufacture mutual dependency. But when he confronts her, Nikki erupts into hysteria, expressing abhorrence and repugnance towards the truth while demanding to know why truth matters when they can still enjoy a “nice date.” Bear immediately backs down for two reasons.
First, he is genuinely terrified of what obsessive love, once turned to wrath, might unleash. Secondly, deep down, he cannot help but agree with her. After all, why should truth matter if he too has been lying to himself about the very foundation of their romance?
The rest of the movie depicts the downward spiral of a relationship built on falsehood and obsession – two sides of the same coin. Falsehood fuels obsession in order to hide from truth, while obsession makes detection of falsehood and reconciliation with truth difficult. Bear’s wish proves to be a short-term gain but a long-term (extreme) pain. He thought he could control Nikki, but now finds himself controlled by every jolting movement of her chaotic soul. He cannot even maintain healthy relationships with others, let alone with Nikki.
When he finally begins to acknowledge the deadly seriousness of the situation, he remains too afraid and too selfish to accept responsibility or truly seek Nikki’s good. In doing so, he betrays the fact that what he once imagined to be love was, in reality, something much closer to lust. As St Pope John Paul II observed, the opposite of love is not hatred but use. What is obsession with another human being but a desperate desire to be loved supremely, to be idolised, to use another person in an attempt to satisfy one’s own insatiable need for love?
Too many people, especially the young, have yet to encounter this profound insight of St Pope John Paul II. Yet the consequences of rejecting it – knowingly or unknowingly – are felt almost universally, particularly by those searching impatiently for what is commonly called romance.
To give another person the adoration that belongs to God alone is to play with fire. It consumes the ground beneath our feet and eventually suffocates us with contempt and resentment, all the while failing to deliver what it promised. Jesus Christ’s words shed light on the heart of the problem: “Anyone who prefers father or mother to me is not worthy of me. Anyone who prefers son or daughter to me is not worthy of me.” (Matthew 10:37)
In the fictional world of Obsession, the only way to end the curse of Nikki’s obsession with Bear is through a death. In the real world too, the ultimate solution to the toxicity of human relationships is death – above all, the saving death of Christ, whose preference for love over use was absolute.
As St Paul wrote: “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptised into Christ Jesus were baptised into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.” (Romans 6:3-4)
Humbly admitting the inadequacy of our own love and surrendering wholeheartedly to the primacy of God’s infinite love – that is, the Holy Spirit – is how we come to be plunged into the baptismal dynamic of dying to the old self and rising to the new, including in the way we love one another.
Looking for love without first allowing Christ to renew our hearts is a recipe for obsession and self-deception. By contrast, taking the risk of letting go of everything to make room for the Heavenly Bridegroom sets us free for the adventure of a new romance – one in which love is true and self-giving, and freedom remains sacrosanct.
