Film critics have it easy. Without undergoing the physical, financial, and years-long struggle of producing a feature film themselves, they’re blessed with the privilege of witnessing a finished product and critiquing it, occasionally from the comfort of their own homes, facing no real repercussions. One party devotes a considerable fraction of their lives, nurturing a crew of hundreds if not thousands along the way in the name of art, while the other spends a few meager hours with a film, jots some notes, dishes some dirt, and likely won’t think much of it ever again. Obviously, the balance is skewed, but seldom will critics be pressed to take on the mantle of filmmaking themselves. After all, if they can pinpoint what’s wrong with a movie, who’s to say they can’t set out to make it right? Rising to that challenge is YouTuber Chris Stuckmann, who has been reviewing movies on his channel since 2009. Originally announced in 2021, and following a successful crowdfunding campaign in 2022, Stuckmann’s project has only picked up steam since, having also picked up an executive producer in contemporary horror powerhouse Mike Flanagan, while NEON acquired the rights to distribute Shelby Oaks, the resulting fruits of Stuckmann’s labor, in 2024. Following a few festival plays, the film now sees a wide release, teeing up Stuckmann for the big leagues. One question remains: does the film have the power to leave audiences truly Stuckmannized?
It does not. It’s evident from the outset that Stuckmann has seen a lot of films — the clearest influences here seemingly being The Blair Witch Project, Hereditary, and Rosemary’s Baby — but he lacks vision and clarity as a filmmaker. While he can be applauded for setting out to write, direct, and finish a feature film, no amount of participation trophies can change the fact that Shelby Oaks is an incredibly dull sit, lacking much in the way of imagination or terror, and ultimately being too derivative of far superior horror pictures. Consider the plot: in the very fictional town of Shelby Oaks, located in the very real Darke County, Ohio (Stuckmann’s home state), a group of four ghost-hunting YouTubers goes missing in 2008, with three of them turning up dead. The only one unaccounted for is Riley Brennan (Sarah Durn), causing panic and speculation that a supernatural event has occurred. 12 years later, Riley’s sister Mia (Camille Sullivan) holds out hope for Riley’s return, even participating in a documentary about her sister’s disappearance. One day, a dangerous escaped convict named Wilson Miles (Charlie Talbert) shows up on Mia’s doorstep, mutters a cryptic message about his freedom, and promptly shoots himself in the head, leaving behind a miniDV tape labeled “Shelby Oaks.” Hiding this from the authorities, Mia watches the tape, finding that it contains more footage of Riley, including potential clues to her whereabouts. This causes Mia to reopen her own desperate investigation, soon discovering that the secrets of Shelby Oaks just might have a haunting connection to her own past.
The first reel of Shelby Oaks is designed like a found footage film, a la Blair Witch or Lake Mungo, following an unseen camera crew as they delve deep into the mystery of the “Paranormal Paranoids” and their shockingly sudden disappearance. It’s this early stretch that feels like it’s located within Stuckmann’s wheelhouse, and the director is clearly having fun playing with YouTube and older technology to lay out the groundwork for Shelby Oaks’ narrative. Bizarrely, however, once Wilson appears, Stuckmann abandons the found footage conceit entirely, playing out the rest of the feature as a more traditional narrative film, and a horribly glacial one at that. The central hour of Shelby Oaks is devoted to Mia and her investigation, where she contends with a lack of sympathy from her husband (Brendan Sexton III), interviews many involved in Riley’s case no matter how tangential (including Keith David, in what amounts to a cameo), and explores the old haunts of Shelby Oaks, particularly the abandoned prison that once housed Wilson. Pacing is clearly not Stuckmann’s strong suit, and there’s only so much one can endure of Mia slowly walking around darkened buildings and forests with a flashlight, as if her investigation was somehow more profound when reduced to a miserable crawl. In reality, it just feels like Stuckmann is padding the runtime (listing all the Kickstarter donors in the end credits also helps in this regard).
Even as secrets are revealed and revelations are made, there really isn’t much to Shelby Oaks, which largely crumbles due to its aesthetic and thematic proximity to better films. Even the name of the town, and its oft-repeated tagline — “Who Took Riley Brennan?” — invokes a particular town in Washington, where the cherry pie is hot and the coffee is damn good. One of the better horror films of 2025 is Bring Her Back, the second theatrical film by the Philippou Brothers, another pair of YouTubers who made their debut with Talk To Me in 2023. A terrifically nasty film, Bring Her Back was brilliantly made and boasts a strong vision, proving that these filmmakers mean business and the YouTube-to-Theatrical pipeline is genuinely possible. Which isn’t to say that any hope for Stuckmann is lost, but if Shelby Oaks is the best he has to offer, he will need to seek out more inspiration before trying his hand at the movie game again anytime soon.
DIRECTOR: Chris Stuckmann; CAST: Michael Beach, Keith David, Brendan Sexton III, Camille Sullivan; DISTRIBUTOR: NEON; IN THEATERS: October 24; RUNTIME: 1 hr. 31 min.
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