Schmear Hunter's Brainwash [92]
Unpacking the Hype, Elevating the Unknown: 'Highest 2 Lowest,' 'Lurker'
Thanks for reading The Schmear Hunter! If you like this newsletter, consider supporting it with a paid subscription: $5/month or $50 a year 🥯🎞️
Hunters,
This week on NO NOTES, conversations with Alex Russell, the brilliant director of the new drama-thriller Lurker (more on that below), as well as my chat with Splitsville director Michael Angelo Covino and the film’s other star and writer, Kyle Marvin.
I love Covino and Marvin’s earlier feature, The Climb, and was thrilled to talk to them about their new polyamory rom-com co-starring Adria Arjona and Dakota Johnson. Between this and The Roses, which I caught a preview of last night, laughter is back on the menu and I’m here for it.
The conversation with Alex went long, so if you’d like to hear his genius musings on parasocialism, celebrity, and other lurker movies, you can get that in full on The SchmearCast.
At the top of the pod, I was joined by to discuss the first 3 episodes of Noah Hawley’s Alien: Earth. Premium subscribers may have read my thoughts Sunday. I’m glad to report that after a tremendous third episode—one that slowed things down, opting for dread over action—I’m feeling better about the show.
A lot is going on, and I’ve got you covered for (most of) it.
Let’s get into today’s newsletter:
The Hype
HIGHEST TO LOWEST (Movie): Not all Spike Lee is good Spike Lee, but fortunately most of this new Denzel joint is wonderful.
The Unknown
Move over Ripley and Saltburn; here comes Alex Russell’s LURKER
Highest 2 Lowest (Theaters)
What is it: When a music mogul is targeted with a ransom plot, he is jammed up in a life-or-death moral dilemma.
Watch if you like: High and Low, Inside Man, Training Day, Your Honor
News and Notes:
Released August 15th
Schmear’s Verdict: Spike Lee’s Highest 2 Lowest stumbles early with melodrama but finds its pulse on the streets, delivering a morally thorny, actor-driven thriller that’s flawed, fiery, and unmistakably Spike.
Not all Spike Lee is good Spike Lee—but when he’s on, there’s no one better.
In the first act of Highest 2 Lowest, I was scratching my head, wondering if he’d lost a step.
This is a reimagining of Akira Kurosawa’s High and Low, the moral “what would you do” thriller hailed as a masterpiece. The last time Lee tackled the East Asian canon with Oldboy, it was rough sledding. Here, Denzel Washington plays a high-on-the-hog record exec who learns—on the eve of a major financial deal—that his son has been kidnapped and held for ransom. Except, it isn’t his son. It’s his chauffeur’s (played by Jeffrey Wright). A moral and financial quandary for our leonine lead.
The treacly score, paired with soap-operatic acting straight out of a Lifetime movie, was perturbing. The absence of usual composer Terence Blanchard’s soulful sounds was felt tremendously. Back in Cannes, my international audience was snickering—in a racially pointed way—at certain Lee-isms, to the point that even I was feeling defensive, though I knew they were half right. Lee is absurd! Close-ups on Black heroes as Denzel’s “David” howls entreaties, hoping they’ll grant him strength and wisdom!?
But around halfway through, a switch flips. Highest 2 Lowest leaves the staleness of the ivory tower and hits the streets, winking at the very terrain where Lee himself finds his juice. A Puerto Rican Day Parade, soundtracked by the late, great Eddie Palmieri, ratchets up the thrills into a French Connection–inspired sequence that tickles the brain in the best kind of way.
Denzel is as good as ever here—a fully dimensional character, prominent in strength yet equally fallible, an amalgam of his own persona and his director’s. He’s a protagonist you root for, yet remain morally wary of. Jeffrey Wright is stalwart and steadfast—so emotionally present that even his clunky dialogue is easy to forgive.
The biggest surprise is A$AP Rocky, who more than holds his own against one of the world’s greatest actors as—hardly a spoiler—the ransomer. He has a slippery, seductive menace that jolts the story with danger, shocking us gratefully out of the moribund early stretch.
This isn’t Lee’s best work, but it’s clear-eyed and clever, full of feeling, with actors committed to a vision and trusting their director. I detected a message of forbearance and wisdom, of leaning on family—radically “un-radical” ideas for a director who once hurled a trash can through Sal’s pizza shop.
At 68, though, these are Lee’s chief teachings. And while much has been made about how they smack of conservatism, they undoubtedly carry weight.
Lurker (Theaters)
What is it: A retail employee infiltrates the inner circle of an artist on the verge of stardom. As he gets closer to the budding music star, access and proximity become a matter of life and death.
Watch if you like: The Talented Mr. Ripley, Saltburn, The Idol, Nightcrawler, Black Swan
News and Notes:
Released today
Schmear’s Verdict: Lurker is a seductive and unnerving debut that exposes the desperation, allure, and banality of chasing proximity to fame.
Our obsession with striver stories is never not fascinating. Whether it’s Ripley’s strategic blankness or Rupert Pupkin’s delusional confidence, we loathe and love these highly competent characters who toe the line of villain and hero with a dexterity born from their lurking and an underdoggedness from being the trounced on.
Alex Russell’s Lurker adds Matthew (Theodore Pellerin) to the mix, a retail employee who “meets” his favorite artist Oliver (Archie Madekwe) one day and ingratiates himself completely into Oliver’s life and crew. This is Russell’s feature debut, but he’s no slouch at character development (The Bear), psychology (Beef), or celebrity (Dave)—bringing all his learnings to bear on this film.
He’s lived this life—seen these crews—and so his depiction of an aspirant B-lister’s entourage is extremely accurate, made more so by a brilliant supporting performance from Zach Fox and a Kenny Beats score. Lurker shows how seductive the world of celebrity is, but also its banality—and how once you make it into the squad, the first rung of the ladder, the attention turns to keeping your position.
As in any great lurker movie—think Matt Damon and Jude Law in Ripley or Barry Keoghan and Jacob Elordi in Saltburn—your leads need to be exceptional. With Pellerin and Madekwe, they certainly are. It’s all in the eyes for Pellerin: big brown saucers constantly scanning rooms, calculating how to extract maximal resources from any moment. Those same eyes, when Matthew is scorned, reflect hurt and pain so movingly that you’re distracted by his slimy manipulation.
Madekwe, who got short shrift in Saltburn, exudes star quality—with his enormous size, way of carrying himself, and wounded softness that audiences feel privileged, and maybe a tinge embarrassed, to see.
The film looks beautiful—shot on 16mm by DP Pat Scola—giving warmth to this world at odds with the machinations on display. Scola and Russell make great use of mixed media, splicing in camcorder footage to pull you further into this alluring world—just to show how easily it can be taken away.
At moments when this movie could be cliché, it makes surprising, character-first swerves that keep you on your toes and leave you psychologically unmoored. Are you rooting for Matthew to make it in the crew? Do you feel bad for Oliver? Should Matthew—alien that he is—be blasted off on a rocket to whatever planet he comes from?
All of these are left to the audience, giving Lurker, especially in its final act, a tantalizing opacity that challenges allegiances. I felt some whiplash as it veered off-course from the well-plotted thriller being set up into something stranger, but it left me in deep consideration of the decisions made.
In the extreme centering of Matthew and Oliver, we lose some riveting supporting characters who are so effectively set up—like Havana Rose Liu’s magnetic Shai, Zach Fox’s Swett, and Mid90s’ Sunny Suljic. I would’ve liked their significance to be more consistently woven into the narrative, but I also understand this is Matthew and Oliver’s story—their perverse dance.
The film has a great ending. I won’t spoil it, but it leaves you buzzing with questions of parasocialism, co-dependency, love vs. obsession, and what it means to be a fan (and a friend) in our modern era. With Lurker, Alex Russell takes on topics we traffic in daily, yet rarely stop to think about—let alone see depicted artistically.
Thanks for reading!