Chris Stuckmann Explores The Horror of the Early Internet in His Debut Feature Shelby Oaks

Camille Sullivan in Shelby Oaks. Photo courtesy of Elevation Pictures.

There’s something evil in the town of Shelby Oaks. Decaying homes are lined thick with mould, a once bustling theme park now turns to rust, and an all but forgotten missing persons case festers at the heart of the story.

Chris Stuckmann’s directorial debut follows Mia (Camille Sullivan) on her obsessive search for her sister who vanished while shooting on location in Shelby Oaks for her YouTube channel, Paranormal Paranoids. As her sister’s case grows cold, Mia begins to spiral into obsession, and through her fervent research, she begins to believe the once-imaginary demon from their childhood, may be real.

Shelby Oaks theatrical poster.

When REVERIE spoke with Stuckmann ahead of the film’s release, he traced his fascination with the found footage and mockumentary format to one of his biggest influences, the 2008 Australian horror film Lake Mungo. “There's this unfiltered quality to it that I think can only really be achieved through that mockumentary lens where you do feel like you're watching something real.”

His usage of the found footage format brings to mind memories of scrolling through grainy clips on long-forgotten YouTube channels. “My headspace was in the mid to late aughts and what the YouTube space looked like at that time,” he said. “People weren't really interested in money and people weren't very concerned about building an audience. I think a lot of folks were just uploading stuff because they had fun doing it… I think in those early years it was almost kind of quaint, and very charming.”

His nostalgia for the early internet shapes the atmosphere of Shelby Oaks. The film’s marketing brings to mind early-internet creepypasta mythologies and Marble Hornets-era unease. Though his mix of found footage, mockumentary stylings, and traditional narrative is inventive, these twists in the film’s format feel jarring. When Stuckmann leans into his familiarity with handheld cameras and early YouTube aesthetics, the story is its most authentic and haunting.

The scares in Shelby Oaks are effective when they are able to stoke the feeling that the story could exist just beyond the frame. When the camera lingers in the corners of empty rooms and on the flicker of VHS static, Stuckmann is able to conjure the sickly feelings the film is chasing. When Shelby Oaks lays its horrors bare however, the tension begins to slip away. The unease of finding mysterious silhouettes hiding in the background proves to be far more frightening than the creature who eventually appears. Still, there’s an emotional sincerity keeping the film from feeling hollow. Beneath the grim decay of the film, Shelby Oaks aches with grief, and a captivating performance from Sullivan sets the film’s heart firmly in the right place.

Before Shelby Oaks became a reality, Stuckmann faced the same uphill battle as many first-time filmmakers, a grand vision and a distinct lack of funding. But, his early YouTube days were able to fuel the success of the film, with his crowdfunding campaign for Shelby Oaks marking it the highest-funded horror film in Kickstarter’s history. The campaign raised nearly $1.4 million and launched the years-long production, making his lifelong dream a reality.

“In my head I've I've always been a filmmaker, I started making movies as a kid with my friends in the backyard, and I started a YouTube channel just because I wanted to reach out to people who hopefully liked movies as much as I did,” he said. Since wrapping the film, Stuckmann has travelled across the United States for special screenings with early supporters of the film and meeting the fans who helped fund his debut. “If even one person sees this movie who is an aspiring filmmaker and thinks, ‘I think I can crack open that script I've been waiting to write,’ or ‘I think I can maybe make something now.’ that's the ultimate goal,” Stuckmann said.

Though Shelby Oaks falters at times, its earnest performances and affection for the online horror communities that shaped it make for a promising debut. Now that Stuckmann has crossed over from the DIY spirit of his early internet days, to a widescreen release, hopefully Shelby Oaks can inspire others that their projects can do the same.

Shelby Oaks is in theatres now.