Social media moves so quickly that if I said, ”Do you remember that Buzzfeed ghost story from six years ago?” you’d probably nod sagely and mutter something about the ”good old days”. That or go, ”I’m sorry the world was burning as it has been for quite some time. I overlooked that particular Buzzfeed article from all the articles and ”content” in that week, month, and year.
Both viewpoints work when viewing Dear David, John McPhail’s cinematic adaptation of those events. Based on the spooky musings of Buzzfeed’s Adam Ellis in 2017, It’s entrenched in the perils of the internet both as consumer and creator, and in retrospect, it makes perfect sense to have the internet as we know it holding an actual curse.
Comic Artist Adam Ellis (here played by Augustus Prew of Kick Ass and High Rise) works for Buzzfeed, creating his relatable comics. His love life is doing well, and he’s not exactly slumming it by any means. But his Boss (another to add to the ”Justin Long being a bit of a slimy git” library) pressures him to get more reach, find a way to be more relatable, and give more of himself to the ”content mill”. They say good horror hits a little too close to home, and I’m sure many writers in this field would see that scene as a little too close for comfort. And that’s before we even get to the curse and the ghost kid stuff!
The triggering point for Adam comes as he fears losing his job and commitment to his boyfriend. One night, while drunk, alone, and sensitive to online criticism of his work, Adam indulges in a spiteful pile-on for one particular detractor on a social media platform. Among the many gleeful reactions and replies, one account asks him, ”Why are you so mean?”
And that account belongs to the titular David—a specter of a young boy with a crescent-shaped chunk missing in his skull. In the film’s opening, we get a glimpse of who David is, and how his particular curse affects internet trolls. So when that username shows up in Adam’s replies, we know he has bought himself a one-way ticket to Torment Town.
Interestingly, most of David’s vengeful haunting occurs while Adam is stricken by sleep paralysis. These scenes initially make themselves obvious with a change in color tone and an off-kilter but recognizable version of Adam’s apartment. It’s a simple but effective trick. But as things escalate, it becomes harder for both Adam and the viewer to discern where the waking hours lie.
David’s curse is a concoction made from parts of Freddy Kreuger’s dream manipulation (McPhail himself cited a scene from Nightmare on Elm Street 3 as inspiration for a puppeteering-style scene), the tragic vengeance curse of Ringu, and the nastiest side of internet harassment. A lot of what David does in a supernatural sense isn’t pulling up any trees. It pushes that whole ”they think I’m crazy cos of the ghost/entity” thing a bit too far on a couple of occasions. Still, it primarily works because there’s something tangible and relatable in the idea Adam’s personal issues and online interactions could be the root cause of his woes.
It’s not the first horror film to integrate social media, but it’s one that doesn’t use it quite as flippantly as many examples I’ve seen. The Buzzfeed connection helps, giving us an authentic glance at the creative side of the ”content” race and the pressures it brings. And the ups and downs of social media interaction get plenty of airing as we join Adam on his combustible ride to internet stardom.
I see the film as a cautionary tale about selling your personal trauma for reach and retweets. It’s an understandable and often necessary path for creators looking to make themselves heard in a space where the voices are seemingly infinite and loud. But it comes at the cost of vulnerability. The more you put out about yourself, the greater the danger of it being weaponized by those who don’t like what you say.
Beyond the social media age-induced terrors, Dear David is a choppy supernatural story. There are many familiar beats, and it arguably works best when David’s presence is limited to his unseen power and in those early sleep paralysis scenes. When David manifests, he’s a bit of a rent-a-ghost—popping up for scares here and there with a reasonably low hit rate. The backstory is interesting though. It may not delve into it too deeply, but as someone who discovered the age of the internet back in its relative infancy, I like how it showed that many of the modern issues with people on the internet were always there; there were just fewer of them you had to be subjected to.
A bit of levity to the movie comes from Adam’s two cats. They’re adorable and manage to steal every scene they’re in. Yet they don’t do all that much beyond stare at a door most of the time. Generally, this would be a background thing that only existed to further some plot point, and while they do play that role, they get to be as much a part of the film as any of the human supporting cast.
Dear David is a perfectly serviceable supernatural curse movie that gains an edge with the intelligent use of social media to channel its best horror. It struggles to make its jump scares consistently worthwhile and ends in a manner that doesn’t feel entirely certain of where it wanted to land. But between its well-shot sleep paralysis scenes and commentary on creation in the internet age, it managed to keep me invested.
Score: 6.5/10 – Decent
As ComingSoon’s review policy explains, a score of 6.5/10 is Decent. It fails to reach its full potential and is a run-of-the-mill experience.
