Providing a useful variation on Patricia Highsmith’s globe-trotting sociopath Tom Ripley for the social media era, “Influencer” was a hit for Shudder in 2023. So now director Kurtis David Harder and star Cassandra Naud are back with “Influencers,” a worthy sequel that maintains the original’s upscale gloss and narrative twistiness while adding a sufficient number of new wrinkles.
The indictment of narcissistic online culture is still little more then an excuse for glam intrigue, and our not-infrequently-lethal anti-heroine’s motivations remain just as cloudy as they were last time. But a good time in enviable vacation spots is guaranteed, with ghoulish demises for many principal figures here served up like caviar on sashimi. This tasty if not particularly healthy repast will be served on Shudder later this year.
A prologue finds one young woman slitting her own throat on the patio of a luxe Southeast Asian manse, then crawling toward a ringing cellphone whose call might have saved her … or not. We don’t get the backstory behind that episode for quite a while, as the screenplay (this time written solely by Harder, without the first film’s co-author Tesh Guttikonda) deploys a complicated structure that makes big leaps in location and time. The first real chapter takes place in the south of France, where Parisienne Diane (Lisa Delamar) is celebrating her first anniversary as a couple with Catherine (Naud), whom we know is the deadly CW, serial befriender and killer of entitled young tourists.
But these two really do seem in love, their weekend idyll at a splendid rural inn spoilt just a bit when it turns out the special room they’d booked has been usurped by overbearing British travel vlogger Charlotte (Georgina Campbell from “Barbarian” and “Bird Box: Barcelona”). CW — or whatever her name currently is — will of course be disinclined to let that slight go unpunished. Still, Diane remains blissfully unaware of her lover’s violent past or present deeds … until she stumbles upon unpleasant evidence, triggering a confrontation that ends this romance in abrupt fashion.
Meanwhile, the prior film’s surviving victim Madison (Emily Tennant) is trying to quietly rebuild her life in North America. She got acquitted of that story’s several murders for lack of evidence. But as elusive perp CW was never found, the internet continues to hound her, with conspiracy theorists’ assumption of guilt only getting refreshed when a couple podcasters lure Madison into an interview that dredges up all the old Amanda Knox-like accusations. This new exposure puts her back on CW’s radar, and vice versa. Madison’s sleuthing first takes her to France, then to Bali, where Diane’s worried family believes she has absconded with “Catherine.”
Already living the high life there while promoting themselves as online celebrities are a noxious couple, manosphere blowhard Jacob (Jonathan Whitesell) and conservative scold Ariana (Veronica Long). He sells misogynist rhetoric he only half-believes while in fact thoroughly dominated by his girlfriend, who herself parrots propaganda like “the gender ideology cult is coming for your children!!” Someone who’s really living the Andrew Tate-like lifestyle Jacob only feigns is his bestie Cameron (Dylan Playfair). Needless to say, all these vain, privileged, self-promoting jerks are soon going to make CW’s acquaintance, then regret it — even as vengeful Madison zeroes in on that lady’s whereabouts.
Hopscotching from one narrative panel to another (there’s a lengthy flashback about two-thirds in), Harder can sometimes seem to be hobbling his own suspense mechanics. It also requires considerable suspension of disbelief to buy CW’s endless, malicious mastery of all things online, whether she’s ruining someone else’s life or assuming yet another new identity for herself. Not to mention the improbability of her going undetected for so long despite so much broad-daylight haunting of tourist hotspots — as a woman with a very prominent birthmark on one side of her face. Is that physical imperfection the source of her seething resentment toward those who “poison the water” of culture and discourse worldwide? As before, we can only guess. Presumably at some point the filmmakers will unlock CW’s mystery with some origin-story explication. But that time is not “Influencers.”
This movie does, however, simmer along nicely until it boils right over. The climactic mayhem gives due respect to both CW and Madison — even if their girlfight set-piece is arguably too slapstick — while delivering bloody grave misfortune to several others. The vicarious “Well, these people probably deserve it” thrill gets underlined by a pervasive atmosphere of taken-for-granted moneyed excess. Everyone looks like a model or at least dresses like one (Naud actually doubles as costume designer). The locations are fabulous, such that after a while you begin to wonder why one would even bother with a resort that doesn’t have an infinity pool.
So much eye-candy value is maximized by David Schuurman’s widescreen photography, which frequently indulges us further with sweeping drone’s-eye views of spectacular landscapes. Abetting Avery Kentis’ original score are a cool playlist of multinational various-artist tracks reinforcing the notion that these characters exist on a permanent vacation most viewers couldn’t afford — and suggesting maybe they merit what’s coming to them as a result.
