Tag Archives: independent film

SHELBY OAKS horror movie review

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A cautionary tale of when YouTubers confuse content with cinema.

Chris Stuckmann’s Shelby Oaks arrives with all the makings of a breakthrough: (1) it’s one of the most successful Kickstarter-funded indie films ever, and (2) it’s directed by one of YouTube’s most popular influencer-critics. In fact, I’ve used some of his videos in my own classroom—good material: informative, engaging, and accessible for budding cinephiles. But therein lies the rub: informative and engaging does not a motion picture make. The premise, though, is undeniably intriguing—a reimagining of familiar horror tropes with contemporary urgency. Stuckmann delivers a film that has the bones of something potent—think The Blair Witch Project meets Rosemary’s Baby: paranoia, obsession, and the horror of the unseen, all wrapped in a missing-person mystery and topped with a bow of supernatural dread.

Shelby Oaks is about Mia’s search for her long-lost sister and paranormal investigator Riley becomes an obsession when she realizes an event from her past may have opened the door to something far more sinister than she could have ever imagined.

Like many contemporary filmmakers–particularly those that got their start on YouTube–Shelby Oaks excels in technical achievement and marketing. The cinematography is confident and atmospheric, drenched in moody lighting that evokes gothic horror. There is little doubt that Stuckmann clearly understands shot composition, pacing within the frame, even editing in-camera and the importance of visual tone. All the technical elements are quite impressive for a debut feature. And if all a motion picture was–was the visual elements–it’d be easy to admire. But it isn’t. Even Hitchcock knew that. Which is why Hitch never wrote his own screenplays–he generated the idea, even outlined entire scenes and sequences–but he knew that he needed to work with a screenwriter, that understood the material, in order to fully realize his movie idea for the screen. What is greatly lacking in contemporary cinema is an understanding of what makes a great story–plot structure, mechanics, and the emotional substructure.

But Shelby Oaks falters where too many YouTube-born filmmakers stumble—storytelling. Shelby Oaks has a great idea for a movie, but not a fully realized narrative. At its core, the narrative never builds sufficient momentum. Why? Simple–because there’s no real opposition. “Evil,” in the abstract, isn’t conflict. Opposition must manifest into something tangible between the character and his or her external goal, whether that’s a person, a system, or her own inner demons. For all the supernatural activity in the film, there never truly emerges a character of opposition. The result is a macabre mystery that depicts scenes and sequences wherein Mia’s pursuit unfolds, but without the benefit of a tangible sense of escalation or even revelation. Shelby Oaks is more of a proof of concept rather than a complete story.

Stuckmann, for all his film knowledge, seems more comfortable replicating tone and texture than constructing narrative architecture. His background in reviewing movies gives him an eye for what looks right—but not yet the discipline to shape what feels right. He understands what sells, what gets views, and even genre conventions. But sadly, none of the characters, including Mia, possess real dimension or agency. She and the rest of the characters are vehicles for mood rather than emotional engagement.

What works on YouTube—enthusiasm, charisma, and technical dissection—doesn’t automatically translate to cinema. His channel reveals a deep love of horror and a commendable understanding of its visual language, yet Shelby Oaks exposes the gap between appreciating a genre and authoring it. The film lacks what isn’t needed in (and can even get in the way of) YouTube content: storytelling mechanics, structure, and the discipline of narrative design. It’s one thing to analyze story beats; it’s another to build them, to shape character arcs, rhythm, and tension through the grammar of storytelling rather than the syntax of spectacle. Often, YouTube videos have great hooks, but they lack the narrative substance behind the hook.

What’s most frustrating is how close Shelby Oaks comes to working. The concept is rich, and the craftsmanship is undeniably strong. Stuckmann clearly loves cinema, and there’s passion behind every frame. But cinema isn’t content creation—it’s storytelling. And storytelling requires more than aesthetic confidence; it demands structure, development, and resolution.

The YouTube garden is flourishing with emerging directors, cinematographers, and editors—talented creators who’ve mastered the language of cameras, lighting, and cutting for attention. But what it’s not producing are writers. The art—and science—of writing seems to be withering in the age of influencer cinema. Many creators know how to make something look good but not why it should matter. Storytelling requires patience, discipline, and a willingness to think beyond the thumbnail and algorithm. In a culture where speed and spectacle drive engagement, screenwriting—the slow, deliberate architecture of character, conflict, and change—feels almost antiquated. And yet, it remains the soul of cinema. Without writers, we get films that resemble content: sleek, competent, and hollow.

Shelby Oaks stands as a cautionary tale of when YouTubers confuse content with cinema. Furthermore, this movie is an example of the hollowness of contemporary cinema, how cinema is feeling more and more disposable as the months and years pass the silver screen. The tools are there, the ambition is there, but without mastery of story, all that remains are haunting images in search of a heartbeat.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk “where you can join the cinematic conversations frame by frame each week.” Additionally, he is the author of the upcoming film studies book titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. After teaching film studies for over eight years at the University of Tampa, he transitioned from the classroom to public media. He is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

“The Big Sick” movie review

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Organic and relatable. From Amazon Studios and Lionsgate comes Judd Apatow’s The Big Sick directed by Michael Showalter. Despite being billed as a romantic comedy (romcom), it is more like a family drama with comedic moments. What makes the plot of The Big Sick so incredibly relatable is its central focus on two star-cross’d lovers caught between two seemingly incompatible worlds. Beyond featuring two people who fall in love quickly, then realize how there is little chance of a future in which they are together, this story has little in common with Romeo & Juliet. No feuding families or riots here, just two 20-somethings who are trying to make it in this world, and by sheer happenstance fall for each other. However, much like the families from which Romeo and Juliet came, there are two opposing forces at work in this love story. It is clear from the screenplay and cast that all the elements are at work to generate a response from the audiences that would make this an endearing classic in the vein of Terms of Endearment. The relatability and organicness of this film comes from the fact that the entire cast–not just the lead characters–are every-day 21st century Americans who are facing the real mountains and pitfalls of romance, acceptance, honesty, and devotion.

The Big Sick tells the true-life story of the courtship between Pakistani-American Kumail (Kumail Nanjiani) and Chicago native Emily (Zoe Kazan). Kumail is a stand-up comic–or rather–he is desperately trying to be. He’s good enough for a small venue but he dreams of performing at the Montreal Comedy Festival. Emily is a graduate student at the University of Chicago studying psychology. Between family backgrounds and professional interests, the two of them could not be more different. When Kumail and Emily fall in love with each other, everything seems to be going so incredibly well over the next few months; but when Emily learns that Kumail cannot take the next step from dating to engagement because of his Pakistani family’s traditions regarding arranged marriage to a Pakistani girl, their relationship falls apart. As circumstance would have it, Emily must be placed under a medically-induced coma in order to stabilize after her health takes an acute turn downward. With Emily’s parents (Holly Hunter and Ray Romano) in town, Kumail must deal with his ex-girlfriend’s health condition and the fact that her her parents despise Kumail after he led their daughter on. Realizing that he cannot allow his family to determine his fate, Kumail is determined to win over Emilys parents and show Emily that he can be who she needs him to be.

What sets The Big Sick apart from a typical par-for-the-course romcom is the dimension and depth of the plot and characters. Ordinarily, a romcom contains a lighthearted story that requires little critical thinking and analysis because it is meant to be simply entertaining with a little heart along the way. Great for date nights and girls nights. Often times, in a traditionally structures romcom, the female character is the most interesting with the rest of the cast playing a lesser role. However, in this film, the most interesting character is the male love interest. Furthermore, the character chemistry and plot are greatly helped by Kumail and Emily being interesting respectively. The underdog trope is often applied to romcoms, and it certainly played a role in this film. In addition to the character and plot development on screen, the audience also goes through some soul-searching. Incidentally, the movie opens the door of discussion regarding the predisposition to how Pakistani and Americans view marriage and dating. Just like past films that commentated on marriage or dating between the black and white communities–which is what was needed in the not so distant past–this film raises awareness regarding marriage and dating as it relates to middle-eastern and American relationships. A timeless plot told through a contemporary setting.