Influencers

Kurtis David Harder returns with Influencers as someone who knows exactly what made the first film successful and decides to rub salt in the wound with a smirk. The sequel wastes no time pretending that it's here to politely expand the universe; it's here to get back in the game, sunglasses on, phone in hand, and remind us that influencer culture is fundamentally a horror setting by default. The beginning works like a nasty little hook: shiny surfaces, luxurious spaces, calculated smiles, then suddenly a sharp turn toward violence that seems both inevitable and strangely... familiar, like when you scroll through a scandal you hate to have clicked on. And that's the secret of the franchise: it's not just about saying influencers are annoying, but rather showing how quickly our empathy collapses as soon as an online narrative says someone deserves it.

Influencers cleverly plays with the idea that CW is settling down, placing her in a warm, almost disarming domestic bubble, with Lisa Delamar in the role of Diane, and for a moment, we feel that the film is suggesting a dangerous thought: what if love is the only thing that can blunt the blade? The film's opening in France has a chic feel, worthy of a travel magazine: cafés, seaside resorts, old stones, golden light, all filmed with such confidence that you would forget that this is a sequel and not a prestigious thriller. Then Georgina Campbell arrives in the role of Charlotte, a pretentious meteorite who disrupts their anniversary plans, and it's as if we were watching a match floating above a gas tank. What's most interesting is how the film makes the triggering moment seem insignificant, which is almost the intended goal: this isn't some grand moral crusade, but a predator whose rituals resume because the world refuses to stop playing to the camera.

Meanwhile, Emily Tennant gets a real upgrade in the role of Madison, and the sequel finally treats her as more than just a plot device. Madison's narrative arc after her trauma is one of the film's cruelest and most relevant ideas: she survives, she tells the truth, and the internet still decides she's guilty because the story is juicier that way. There's a very specific modern cruelty in the way podcasters, commentators, and anonymous men turn her into content—an ecosystem where simply asking questions becomes a weapon, and where the absence of evidence becomes proof of a cover-up. Influencers captures that same appetite, the sense that online culture doesn't just watch tragedies, it auditions to participate in them. Madison's transformation into a reluctant cyber detective gives the film momentum, but also underscores the darkest joke here: if you want justice, you better understand algorithms.

The sequel's big thematic shift from lifestyle influencers to the manosphere is particularly satisfying. Jonathan Whitesell plays Jacob, a streamer with far-right leanings whose online persona is a display of confidence, dominance, and contempt, while the film steadily reduces him to something smaller, more cowardly, and therefore more believable. Veronica Long, as Ariana, is the sharpest blade at his side, the kind of character who treats outrage as a business plan and ideology as a brand. Their dynamic adds a sinister contemporary touch: hatred as content, values as merchandise, reactionary theater as a strategy for engagement. The film is at its peak when it shows CW turning her own tools against her (phones, streams, image control, reputation sabotage), as it presents the internet as both a weapon and a wound, and discreetly implicates CW herself: she condemns people for their inability to live without their screens, while remaining glued to her own, thriving within the same system she claims to despise.

Formally, Kurtis David Harder retains the franchise's characteristic refinement: fluid camera movements, confident geographical jumps, and a rhythm that favors long introductions before the title OK, now we're really going. The locations play an important role: the south of France seems promising, Bali looks like a trap disguised as paradise, and the whole film sometimes unfolds like an advertisement for luxury travel that has been hijacked by a serial killer. This glossy appeal is important because it ties into the film's worldview: these people live in a permanent vacation aesthetic, and the film understands how resentment and desire can coexist within that fantasy. The fact that Cassandra Naud is magnetic enough to sell CW's shifting masks with tiny changes (posture, smile, eye temperature) also helps, so that even when the narrative gets a little complicated, her presence keeps the engine running.

Where Influencers falters is mainly in the realm of how does she get away with it? and in the way it sometimes confuses the strongest with the smartest. The concept of the first film seemed ingeniously simple; this one pushes CW's luck and abilities into territory that can strain credibility, especially when the plot requires her to overcome obstacles that, logically, should leave marks all over her. And while the sequel's escalation into a kitschy, bloody spectacle will undoubtedly work for viewers who enjoy thrillers with a mischievous wink, there are moments when the tone shifts so radically that it risks undoing the threat the film had so skillfully built up at the beginning. The irony is that the film's most intelligent observations—cancel culture as performance, harassment as sport, AI-fueled paranoia, the outrage market—often arrive like sharp arrows, then pass before they have time to sink in enough to really hurt.

Influencers is clever, nasty, and often addictive. It's a high-end cat-and-mouse thriller that understands how online life turns human beings into editable narratives. Cassandra Naud and Emily Tennant form the backbone of the film: CW is a frightening, intelligent void that you can't look away from, Madison is the battered survivor forced to become competent in order to be believed. Kurtis David Harder maintains a brilliant and cruel universe, and even when the film's logic invites you to go along for the ride, the experience is tense and wickedly fun enough that you often do. This isn't the definitive film critique of influencer culture, but it's a sharp mirror held at just the right angle so you can see the worst aspects of the internet and, if you're honest, a reflection of yourself enjoying the show.

Influencers
Written and directed by Kurtis David Harder
Produced by Jack Campbell, Chris Ball, Taylor Nodrick, Rebecca Campbell, Kurtis David Harder, Micah Henry
Starring Cassandra Naud, Georgina Campbell, Jonathan Whitesell, Lisa Delamar, Veronica Long, Dylan Playfair
Director of photography: David Schuurman
Editing: Rob Grant, Kurtis David Harder
Music: Avery Kentis
Production company: Jackrabbit Media
Distribution: Shudder
Release dates: July 26, 2025 (Fantasia), December 12, 2025 (United States)
Running time: 110 minutes

Seen on December 11, 2025 at Max Linder Panorama

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