Sweetness (2025) Movie Review: An Eerie but Highly Contrived and Cliched Exploration of Pop-Icon Obsession and Teen Blues

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Celebrities can be perceived as mythical figures who rarely expose themselves to the world. It inadvertently made them seem all the more mysterious, which made people more curious about their lives beyond the spotlight. The fans’ desire to be in the star’s presence has now turned into an unruly form of obsession. It’s hard to avoid if you have spent enough time on the internet, where such fans act almost like vultures, seeing their idols as sacrilegious entities devoid of any blemish, thus reducing even a valid criticism against these celebrities to a violent attack on their whole being.

Alex Russell analyzed a similar character through “Lurker,” and now, Emma Higgins does it through “Sweetness.” However, unlike Russell, Higgins doesn’t trade into gritty naturalism. The tone of her direction is distinctly different, where the eeriness takes centre stage in the narration instead of lurking through an undercurrent. Her protagonist, Rylee Hill (Kate Hallett), is a 16-year-old girl living in a suburban neighbourhood with her widowed father, Ron (Justin Chatwin), and his new partner, Marnie (Amanda Brugel). At first glance, Rylee seems like a loner, but not the self-pitying kind. She may not be well-liked among her peers, but that doesn’t make her meek or apologetic.

She doesn’t have the best relationship with Marnie, despite Marnie’s consistent efforts to bridge the gap between them, possibly to offer her an ear in her mother’s absence. Ron, although physically present, appears passive to a fault. That probably makes Rylee increasingly invested in Payton (Herman Tømmeraas), a Norwegian pop star, who is a dead ringer for British musician, Yungblud.

They look so similar that you might presume Yungblud himself is playing a version of himself. Anyhow, one evening, she attends Payton’s concert with her close friend, Sidney (Aya Furukawa), and doesn’t return home with her, hoping to meet him. Her desire likely stems from a cocktail of teen naivety and profound loneliness.

As the film’s logline says, Rylee realizes a dark secret about Payton. It shatters her perception of him as an unblemished idol. That realization takes her on a bizarre journey, confusing attention with something much more. Thereafter, many of the subsequent twists feel contrived, as the script does not provide sufficient development to ground the abruptness of her decisions. Of course, a similar teenage obsession can feel that intense and all-encompassing, especially if you have struggled to find your tribe in school or a comforting presence at home, but the script needs to be developed enough to make it seem convincing within the context of the film’s world.

Sweetness (2025) — A still from “Sweetness” (2025)

Unfortunately, her character motivation is not sufficiently fleshed out to make sense of all that unfolds over the course of its runtime. Everything feels rushed, and it may be attributed to the necessity of a rapid pace for such a story to leave a desired impact (and not to make any scene drag), but that is neither here nor there in this case. Moreover, Payton’s character as a dysfunctional drug addict is also underdeveloped. The performance doesn’t leave a strong impression either, and the writing for his character doesn’t expand much beyond the cliches of tortured artists resorting to substance abuse as a way to cope with the burden of fame.

It’s not like we haven’t seen some groundbreaking work done with a similar pop-sensation archetype. Take Skye Riley from “Smile 2” as an example. You get a layered understanding of her pain, frustration, and resentment, which makes her emotional outburst seem all the more visceral. That isn’t simply because we understand what it might be like to suffer from this amount of constant attention, but because the script spends enough time to present her psyche carefully, and Naomi Scott knocks it out of the park with her perfectly pitched performance.

Of course, in “Sweetness,” the story isn’t about the pop star but the fan. In that case, we have Russell’s “Lurker” and Dominique Fishback-led show, “Swarm,” as contemporary examples. “Sweetness” analyzes a desire to ‘fix’ the male pop star, at least partly stemming from a romantic infatuation. “Lurker” does this more effectively, giving its supporting characters distinct personalities and motivations so they exist as individuals rather than merely extensions of the protagonist’s experience. In contrast, Higgins’ film leaves its secondary cast underdeveloped and largely underutilized.

“Sweetness” is definitely impressive in presenting this ordeal through a teen girl’s perspective, making her descent into the darker side seem eerie as required. Hallett’s detailed performance makes those layers gradually reveal themselves, especially in the second act, where the film settles into its peculiar tone.

It’s also impressive how the script bookends Rilee’s journey and subverts it from how similar women-led stories are usually structured. Yet, the sum of its weaknesses outweighs its strengths, making it a deliriously entertaining experience that sticks the landing and becomes a moderately satisfying genre piece, but remains inferior to projects dealing with similar themes.