Social media has 100% changed the way that we view and interact with the world, but surprisingly, film has been a bit slow in regard to reflecting these changes. Right around 2010, however, The Social Network came out, and once we received our brief history of how the most important social media tool came to be, the floodgates opened with the release of films like You, Unfriended, Ingrid Goes West, Searching, Guns Akimbo, Nerve and more. With sociopathy and mental health finding a renewed interest within the public sphere, the inevitable mixture of the two was bound to happen, and while Spree isn’t necessarily the first of that batch, it’s one that has been on my watch queue for longer than I intended.
Spree hits a specific tone and presentation that instantly brings to mind a handful of films about the disjointed that step outside the standard film format, specifically the likes of Searching, Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, Man Bites Dog and more. Most of us take in our media via formats like YouTube, Instagram, Facebook and so on, and Spree finds a harmonic resonance that provides an experience somewhere between the aforementioned Searching and Nerve, with a much more layered experience provided to those who revisit the film and read the comments flowing on the livestreams. We are given a set of expectations that do pay off in their own way, but in the immediate hangover of these actions, we get a coda that forces us to sit in the uncomfortable wake of these actions, with a nice little button on the end that not only puts a neat bow on the filmmaker’s intentions, but leaves us as viewers fulfilled.
The film really hums by letting the handful of characters interact in a Royal Rumble of deplorable personality aspects. If there were ever such a thing as an anti-protagonist, Kurt Kunkle would make the shortlist based solely on his self-centered point of view, his complete lack of regard and awareness for others, and the fact that he is a legit menace to society. With such a dark character as our main focus, you’d think those that surround him would have redeeming qualities, but in an unexpected twist, we are given a parade of social media tropes that get under all of our collective skins : Bobby Basecamp is only honest when it is to his advantage, Kris is an absent and unfocused father, Frederick is racist, Mario is an alpha male to a dangerously aggressive degree, Jessie Adams uses those around her as fodder for fame, and uNo uses her fame to bully others, not to mention the pure vapidness of Richard, Kendra and London. What makes the entire experience really weigh the viewer down is how everyone involved is fueled by the validation they receive from social media, which ultimately stands out as the thread that connects everyone we see.
Using mostly in-world cameras to present our story dials the levels of immersion up to dizzying heights, and the way that the editing splits screen time between multiple feeds puts the immersion into overdrive. As mentioned before, the attention to detail in the social media presentations really drives things home, with the nonstop comment threads giving a plethora of real-time commentary not often seen in film. Juxtaposing the traditional fame of a comedian or musician against the information age fame that comes with being a social media influencer works surprisingly well as dramatic and suspense fodder, especially when the fixation that comes with the drive for both can be turned into a manic journey into the depths and horrors of sociopathy and psychopathy. One factor that is easy to overlook is the score, which is plated and presented as music created by Kurt, which not only gives the uneasy subtext of a self-aggrandizing God complex, but further wraps us up in the already deeply immersive world, to the point it feels like we’re drowning in the same sorrows that Kurt is.
Joe Keery taps into some uncomfortable energy similar to that of a Jake Paul or Elliot Rodgers as he plays wholly to the camera with a dedication that is scary in its lack of basic human empathy searching to be replaced and filled by online validation. Sasheer Zamata steps into her role as unaware and unwilling foil with a sly, revealing and unconventional version of a hero’s journey, going from reluctant social media darling to final girl in the blink of an eye. Josh Ovalle locks in as a cold and emotionless influencer with a severe lack of empathy as he firmly stands his ground of being totally unwilling to lend even the slightest of a helping hand to a young man literally screaming for someone to listen to him. David Arquette stands as a warning sign for those unwilling to put away their personal needs for the sake of their family, with his disability to provide proper guidance to his son spiraling wholly out of control. Appearances by Kyle Mooney, Mischa Barton, Frankie Grande, Lala Kent, Sunny Kim, John DeLuca and more fill out the crazy world of Spree.
Spree feels to the Elliot Rodgers situation what Elephant does to Columbine… while not a one to one retelling of events, it captures the energy and tragedy of these sadly all too familiar situations. Focus is not only given on the perpetrators of the horrible acts within the narratives, but on the immediate victims as well as those on the fringes of the perpetrator’s life. If you find yourself fascinated by dark minds, fixated on how the information age is reshaping our world, or possibly even both things, then Spree is more than worth your time.
