Inspired by David Cronenberg’s Videodrome, David Ward’s Lenore puts an Australian spin on cyber-horror. His debut film explores the inherent damage of parasocialism, particularly male obsession; Max Wren (Nicholas Jaquinot) is—to put it kindly—an unemployed basement dweller who spends his time fanatically consuming and cataloguing the life of Veronica Brand (Ruby Duncan). Better known as her persona Lenore, Brand is an online performer—stretching from Youtube to music, acting and camwork. She’s also Max’s entire life.

Confined to a singular room, Max utilises his space scrappily, the film showcasing the extent of the basement’s decay and its main character’s lacklustre interior design sensibilities. There are boxes stacked everywhere, a mouldy bed pushed to the side and red, rusted liquid dripping down the walls. Amongst this, the central element of the room are the many screens stacked upon one another to create a monster of a home theatre. On these, Max watches Lenore’s entire life unfold. All her hopes and her controversies, everything leads up to the biggest news surrounding the online star: her disappearance. The plot of this movie takes focus on his urgent desire to find the answers, furthering his descent into obsession. 

The visuals of Lenore are quite stunning. The dull, opaque basement clashes with all the screens—when the videos of Lenore play, they glitch into a cacophony of colours and pixels, jagged faces and detached limbs. It makes you want to see more of its digital, gothic world when you’re sent back to the reality of the spoiled house. Online, Lenore is everything she wants to be and we see the full extent of that. In plain makeup inside her room, donning a bold red lip and a fiery costume as she stares into the camera and speaks in a cloying voice. Max’s perception of his life is infected by this though he constantly needs it as he begins the hunt for more content. 

An ex-colleague of his, Sam (Sam Macdonald) contacts him with the promise of having tapes from Veronica Brand’s childhood. Sam and Max are on opposite ends on the spectrum of obsession. Sam is the stereotypical Australian ‘alpha male’, rough but joking, quick to anger and dominating. He overpowers Max—who is weak, submissive, ‘a nice guy’ showering Lenore with love. 

The acting between the three characters is incredible and a personal highlight of the film. Ruby Duncan feels so real talking to her camera; she never stifles, becomes rigid in talking to a camera and everything flows naturally. It’s the same for Jaquinot and Macdonald, where all their dialogue shifts seamlessly with their behaviour. Utilising minimal actors who are great in their roles and a singular location makes the story grounded in reality. We’re suffocated in their space. Minus the cyber-horror, it’s very realistic to what obsession looks like in our world. 

In terms of actual horror, Lenore falls flat; the tension lacked the depth for it to make an impact. While the cinematography is entrancing, it falls separate to the scariness—worthwhile to see but not adding to it. More could have been done to Max’s character, propelling him from an already paranoid person to someone truly terrified, as well as further execution of the internet. I craved more of the cyber aspect and the eeriness from that, though the film still proves itself to be a wonderful addition to Australian horror.  

Lenore is haunting as a psychological horror, Max demonstrating the lengths that obsession can reach. The film blurs the line between the online world and the one we live in, creating an atmosphere that is inescapably raw. It’s especially through the actors’ performances that we can see this shine and we hope to see much more from them and Ward. 

Lenore screens as a part of Fantastic Film Festival Australia on May 11th and 12th.