Producers: Alex Orlovsky, Duncan Montomery, Galen Core, Francesco Melzi D’Eril, Jack Selby, Marc Marrie, Charlie McDowell, Archie Madekwe and Olmo Schnabel   Director: Alex Russell   Screenplay: Alex Russell   Cast: Théodore Pellerin, Archie Madekwe, Zack Fox, Havana Rose Liu, Wale Onayemi, Daniel Zolghadri, Sunny Suljic, Myra Turley and Cam Hicks Distributor: Mubi

Grade: B+

There’s a bit of “All About Eve” in this directorial feature debut from writer Alex Russell (episodes of “Beef” and “The Bear”), but “Lurker” is no clone of the Bette Davis classic.  Its Eve counterpart isn’t looking to supplant the object of his obsession; he simply wants to bask in the reflected light of celebrity.  But when the opportunity to seize the spotlight presents itself, he embraces it with cruel cunning.

He’s Matthew Morning (Théodore Pellerin), a geeky clerk at a boutique L.A. clothing store that caters to style-minded celebrities.  When up-and-coming singer Oliver (Archie Madekwe) drops in with his entourage, Matt’s co-worker Jamie (Sunny Suljic) goes all fan-tastic over him, but it’s Matt who impresses the guy by putting Nile Rogers’ “My Love Song for You” on the store music system, knowing somehow that it’s a favorite of his.  Oliver invites him to his concert that night, although Matt admits that he doesn’t know his music and likes the Rogers song because he dances to it with his grandmother (Myra Turley), with whom he lives.

Nonetheless he goes to the show, and after proving himself in a sort of backstage test conducted by Oliver’s chief followers Swett (Zack Fox) and Bowen (Wale Onayemi), is accepted into the singer’s “family” though Oliver’s manager Shai (Havana Rose Liu), the practical one, seems a bit uncertain about him.  Even more standoffish is Noah (Daniel Zolghadri), Oliver’s videographer and design guru, who’s concerned when Matt brings an old video camera to Oliver’s frat-like house and begins shooting fly-on-the-wall footage (“Spike Jonze stuff!” as Oliver calls it) that might be incorporated into Noah’s slicker material.

Matt perceives a greater danger to his permanent place in the entourage, though, when his old pal Jamie comes to a party at Oliver’s and the kid’s talent at designing clothes wins over the singer and his crew.  He tries to derail Jamie’s ascent a couple of times when both accompany Oliver on a trip to England for a recording session and Jamie’s ideas are embraced rather than his, but the scheme goes awry, and Matt finds himself pretty much exiled.  That’s when things turn sinister as Matt uses underhanded means to secure not only his return to the “family” but substantial power over Oliver.  That will provoke a response from Oliver and his crew, but the finale redoubles Russell’s cynical take on the shifting nature of celebrity in today’s media-crazy world.

Madekwe is utterly convincing as an ambitious young guy who’s cultivated an image of smooth imperturbability; the mask slips only when he’s answering Matt’s unscripted questions in interviews for the planned documentary, and later when he feels his carefully prepared public persona threatened; the various members of his “family” all feel like familiar follower types, nicely sketched. 

But even Oliver plays second fiddle to Matt, whom Pellerin initially portrays as the sort of dweeb who appears submissively devoted to doing others’ bidding while actually sneakily involved in quiet self-promotion, and who sees trouble when Jamie, played as an open, guileless soul by Suljic, shows up, innocently beating him at his own game.  Then, when the place he’s won appears in danger, Pellerin captures Matt’s steely determination to trap Oliver and use his newfound clout to advance his own career.  There’s also an unmistakable hint of homoeroticism in the way the character reacts to Oliver’s stealing into his room one night.  All told, Pellerin’s is a nuanced turn that keeps you guessing about the guy’s motives from moment to moment. 

Russell is as canny as Matt; he keeps “Lurker” feeling edgy and surprising, helped not only by the performances but by the almost oppressive sense of intimacy created by Miranda Lorenz’s cramped production design, Pat Scola feverish cinematography and David Kashevaroff’s frenetic editing. Madekwe effectively sings the numbers written by himself and composer Kenneth Blume (the erstwhile Kenny Beats).

“Lurker” puts an intriguing new spin on an old formula about ambition and fame, a tweak that reflects the celebrity culture of our social-media driven age.