In light of Joe Keery’s recent rise to mainstream indie success with his solo project Djo having released the ever-viral “End of Beginning” which continues to dominate the TikTok music space, it feels relevant to reminisce on one of the gems of his filmography, the 2020 horror-comedy Spree. Directed by Eugene Kotlyarenko, this thriller about a rideshare driver who murders his passengers serves as a time capsule of the quarantine era, yet its message remains applicable in online discourse today.
Keery plays Kurt Kunkle, whose exposition is provided in the style of a “Draw My Life” video where he describes the common struggle of being relatively unknown despite being an aspiring influencer on his various platforms making content in hopes of achieving virality with whatever is trending, i.e., unboxing videos, vape reviews and livestreams of him living with his parents in suburban Los Angeles. All seem like the usual nonsensical content of the average clout-chaser, until he queues his “followers” into his upcoming project, vaguely titled #thelesson, which is essentially a how-to on killing his passengers as a Spree (the rideshare app within the film) driver while live streaming it for views. The film is pieced together by video footage, notably in this live stream, but also incorporates security footage and posts from his victims.
Spree walks a careful line between its satire and elements of intense cringe, and masters this with its script, co-written by Kotlyarenko and Gene McHugh. “Hey guys, what’s up, It’s Kurt here from KurtsWorld!” becomes the mantra that leads the film’s dissection of superficiality in social media, in this case being followed by the psychotic ramblings of a young serial killer. Dialogue is heavily inspired by popular influencers, who often exploit the shortcomings of others for clickbait, or conduct staged social experiments in attempts to receive praise from the masses, a la the success of YouTubers like MrBeast and David Dobrik.
The second-hand embarrassment works in a script like Spree’s, because its intention is to satirize the pathetic nature of begging for attention online, no matter how successful the attempts. The writers revealed that the inspiration for Kurt came from “the psychological similarity of the wannabe influencer…and the mass murderer,” which allows the intersection of cringe and horror to flourish. Small details from the score – which makes probably the best use of “The Gummy Bear Song” – and title cards featuring the infamous Comic Sans font add to the film’s parody of internet culture and shows a genuine understanding of internet literacy.
Among the victims of the rideshare murders is Bobby Bud Lee (Joshua Ovalle), aka Bobby Basecamp as known by his followers. Besides Kurt being Bobby’s former babysitter, he also makes many desperate attempts to ride the coattails of his status as a viral creator. The casting choice for Ovalle also reiterates the film’s internet literacy as he emerged as a creator during the Vine era, which makes his role as a popular streamer feel like a natural reflection of the modern Twitch streamer. David Arquette also appears as Kurt’s dad, who despite his effort to rekindle a relationship with his son, is considered useless in his quest for internet stardom. As #thelesson progresses and more passengers perish, Kurt grows more frustrated at the lack of payoff he receives from his followers. “I got seven rideshare kills, why isn’t this trending?” he whines. The view count hardly reaches double digits until he takes over Bobby’s live and makes his way to his final target, a comedian named Jessie Adams (Sasheer Zamata).
Kurt is eventually left at the mercy of Jessie, whose comedy set from the same night focuses heavily on the burden of white men, along with her distaste for “follow for follow” culture. Parallel to Kurt’s livestream is her live show where she announces she will be doing a social media cleanse effective immediately, smashing her phone to the ground as her closing bit. She ends up in a Spree ride with Kurt, and in his final failed attempt at going viral, he takes her to his home where she runs him over with his car before taking a selfie with him. While Jessie emerges as the final girl to end his psychotic online rampage, Spree leaves us with more to ponder as a Kurt Kunkle fandom grows in the wake of the rideshare murders. Why are psychopaths immortalized in pop culture just as much, if not more, than the survivors are? Eerily, perhaps Kotlyarenko and McHugh aren’t far off with their hypothesis on the similarities between mass murderers and influencers after all.
The post Rediscover: Spree appeared first on Spectrum Culture.