Shelby Oaks Just Scratches The Surface Of Horror Greatness

There’s an uncomfortable symbiosis between film critic and filmmaker, a contentious push and pull that’s existed from the dawn of the art form. They need each other to survive, but they’re destined to be at odds: one ostensibly for the people, and the other infamously above it all. Critics are oft-painted as implacable snobs, punching down on the populace and those brave enough to put themselves out there creatively. It makes the idea of crossing from one medium to another one of the rarest career pivots in the industry. So what happens when the critic decides to get up and try their hand at making a movie?

The answer — for Chris Stuckmann, at least — is something of a Cinderella story. Stuckmann carved out a niche as a reputable, beloved vlogger in the early days of YouTube, and he’s spent the past decade cementing his status as one of the most popular film critics on the platform. His feature debut, Shelby Oaks, came to life partially thanks to that platform: with over $1 million in backing from fans and supporters, and the support of horror vets like Mike Flanagan and Aaron B. Koontz, Stuckmann finally had the tools to realize a long-gestating dream.

For the fans who’d followed him from the beginning, Stuckmann’s ascension feels like a form of vicarious wish fulfillment. Doubters, meanwhile, are no doubt curious to see if a critic from YouTube’s first class can really give as good as they get. His debut straddles the line between indie and elevated horror; it’ll likely please his supporters, but bringing everyone on board with the vision is easier said than done.

Shelby Oaks, fittingly, kicks off its tale with the mystery of an ill-fated group of YouTubers. The Paranormal Paranoids, like Stuckmann, rode the wave of early YouTube fame, attracting followers with their off-the-cuff investigations of local ghost stories haunting the nearby town of Shelby Oaks. As we learn in the film’s opening moments, packaged in documentary style, Riley (Sarah Durn) was the unspoken star of the Paranoids. She was always special, her older sister Mia (Camille Sullivan) affirms to the crew investigating her appearance. She was always attuned to the paranormal, whether that manifested in a connection to a ghost or spirit or the night terrors — and the ominous spirit with glowing eyes — that once plagued her as a child.

That same spirit can be seen in the background of Riley’s last recorded footage. It was lurking outside the window of a haunted cabin that she and her friends were investigating, and likely had something to do with Riley’s disappearance and the murder of the other Paranoids. At least, that’s what the true believers (whose morbid curiosity turned the group of vloggers into bona fide legends) seem to think. Mia’s not so sure, though she’s spent the last 12 years trying to uncover the truth either way. Riley’s trail has long gone cold by the time Mia sits down to recount her side of the story — but no sooner does she start dredging up the past that she uncovers a key piece in the puzzle.

Discussing the details of this clue, and how it falls into Mia’s lap, would risk traipsing into spoiler territory — and the mystery of Shelby Oaks is best left preserved. Crucially, though, Mia’s discovery yanks us out of the fuzzy, haunting world of camcorders and talking heads and into the crisp, bracing reality of a traditional narrative. Yes, Shelby Oaks is not really a found footage horror: the format is only briefly used to bring us into the world of this mystery. Stuckmann orchestrates the transition with assured finesse, but at times it feels like a loss. Those early scenes following the Paranormal Paranoids are orchestrated with skin-tingling dread; they balance exposition with terrifying scares brilliantly. But once Mia sets off to retrace Riley’s steps and (ideally) bring her home, this story loses most of the momentum it accrued.

It doesn’t help that Shelby Oaks feels like such a hodgepodge of horror tropes, especially the closer Mia gets to the truth of her sister’s disappearance. There are shades of Blair Witch, Hereditary, The Omen, and even games like Resident Evil and Silent Hill in the fabric of this film, and Stuckmann wears each of those influences loudly on his sleeve. Each chapter of this story is capable of inducing as much terror as the last, but the effort of marrying all these disparate stories into one cohesive narrative robs the film of all its intrigue. Shelby Oaks winds up feeling like a chain of stitched-together vignettes; more a proof-of-concept for what Stuckmann is capable of as a storyteller than a compelling story on its own.

The writer-director clearly knows what works, and he makes it work well — but without his personal stamp, Shelby Oaks comes just short of horror greatness.

Shelby Oaks premiered at Beyond Fest at American Cinematheque on September 29. It opens in theaters on October 24.