AtanariaChris Stuckmann, the YouTube sensation turned filmmaker, makes a compelling foray into horror with Shelby Oaks, a film that mixes creepy, nostalgic found footage with eerie supernatural thrills. Thirteen years after her sister Riley (Sarah Durn) vanished, Mia Brennan (Camille Sullivan) stumbles upon a mysterious camcorder that could hold the key to uncovering what really happened. What follows is an unsettling dive into a world of dark secrets, paranormal mysteries, and chilling folklore.
The strength of Shelby Oaks lies in its immersive atmosphere, especially in the early stages. Stuckmann’s film kicks off with a pseudo-documentary style that instantly captures the late-2000s YouTube era, playing on the aesthetic of viral hauntings and online investigative groups like Paranormal Paranoids. The opening, with its shaky camcorder footage, jarring jump cuts, and eerie soundscapes, feels like a love letter to that period of internet culture, where amateur investigators set out to solve supernatural mysteries—only to vanish without a trace. Stuckmann nails this tone, building an intriguing sense of dread by revealing cryptic clues through the footage, which keeps you hooked even as the narrative dips into familiar found-footage tropes.
But while Shelby Oaks starts strong, it begins to lose its footing as the film moves from its documentary-style prologue to a more traditional narrative. The film’s scares remain effective, relying mostly on tension-building and the occasional jump scare. The sequences in a decaying prison and a sinister trip into the woods are some of the highlights, showing Stuckmann’s keen sense of atmosphere and pacing. The film has a real knack for the creepy details—like a sound just out of place or a brief glimpse of something lurking in the shadows—that amplify its sense of unease.
However, as the film progresses, it suffers from a few issues. Mia, the central character, feels more like a vessel for the plot than a fully fleshed-out protagonist. While Camille Sullivan delivers a solid performance, Mia’s character is often reactionary, following the same tired horror movie pattern of making questionable decisions that only lead her deeper into danger. The underdevelopment of her character is frustrating, especially when you consider the emotional weight of her sister’s disappearance, which is only explored in a surface-level way.
The real misstep comes in the film’s final act. Here, Stuckmann’s ambitions begin to outweigh the execution, and the movie collapses under the weight of its own ideas. The last 30 minutes try to cram in too many genre elements, from supernatural terror to family trauma, leaving the film feeling like a patchwork of borrowed ideas. The ending, which seems to take a cue from Hereditary, ultimately feels unsatisfying and somewhat convoluted, diminishing the film’s otherwise strong buildup.
Another disappointment is the missed opportunity to delve deeper into the film’s central mystery, particularly the concept of the “Incubus” and the lore surrounding the haunted town of Shelby Oaks. The Incubus is hinted at, but we never really get a satisfying look at what it is or how it connects to the disappearances, leaving the audience with more questions than answers. This could have been a compelling area to explore, but the film doesn’t provide enough meat on the bones for it to resonate.
That said, Shelby Oaks excels in its aesthetics and sound design. The production values here are impeccable for an indie horror film, with haunting visuals and a soundscape that consistently enhances the tension. The sound work, in particular, deserves praise for its ability to manipulate the audience’s expectations, creating an atmosphere where silence is just as unsettling as any shriek or bang.
Overall, Shelby Oaks is a solid debut from Chris Stuckmann, blending found-footage thrills with modern horror sensibilities. It stumbles in its final act and could have benefitted from a deeper exploration of its central mystery, but it remains a charming and atmospheric film that will resonate with horror fans, especially those nostalgic for the early YouTube era. With a little more refinement, Stuckmann’s next project could very well be a standout in the horror genre.
