Often when the word of mouth begins to spread and hype the newest “best movie ever”, the viewer has to take these opinions with a mound of salt. But as the week two financial gate for Obsession jumped over twice as high as its debut, people started paying attention. With a Youtuber at the helm and the critics lauding this romantic horror film as the second coming, it was time for this particular reviewer to see what the hype was all about.

Obsession is written and directed by Curry Barker (Milk & Serial 2024). It stars Inde Navarrette (Superman & Lois TV Series 2021) as Nikki and Michael Johnston (9-1-1 TV Series 2026) as Bear. Bear is in love with Nikki, but he lacks the gumption to ask her out. On a whim, the bashful Bear buys a “One Wish Willow”, a magical totem that, when broken, allows the bearer one granted wish. Bear wishes for Nikki to love him, but this love comes at the ultimate cost.

The acting is the first thing that the audience will become obsessed with in Obsession. Navarrette is poised for a breakout year and would fit very well as a new-age “final girl” in the horror genre. Johnston is no slouch either, as he brings a lot of layers to Bear, but Navarrette is the one that’ll haunt your dreams for weeks. The actors told the stories on their faces, and Navarrette’s sudden screams make for the most natural jump-scares in ages.

Obsession also thrives in its technical prowess. The quiet sound design and still characters make the movie a genuinely unsettling experience. The usage of rewinding shots gives Nikki a chilling economy of movement, while speeding up shots creates sudden peril and makes scenes instantly uncomfortable. The viewer never gets a chance to truly catch their breath, but the stakes continue to grow with every scene.

It’s very easy to see why Obsession has audiences buzzing. It’s the kind of movie that’s going to hold a spot at the top of lists at year’s end, but if the chance arises to see it in a large theater, the experience will be even more rewarding.

“Hell’s Kitchen,” the Alicia Keys musical that has landed at the Hollywood Pantages Theatre in a blaze of rousing sound, deploys the R&B star’s glorious treasure trove of work in the service of a semi-autobiographical version of her coming-of-age story in the Manhattan neighborhood that gives the show its title.

The Hell’s Kitchen of Alicia Keys’ story, set in the 1990s, isn’t the gang-ridden Hell’s Kitchen of West Side Story, set in the 1950s. Keys grew up in Manhattan Plaza, a federally subsidized residential complex that provides affordable housing for artists. But for a teenager in rebellion from her watchful mother, the vibrant, music-filled street life comes with its share of dangers.

Ali (Maya Drake, who’s making her professional debut in this North American tour production) is a 17-year-old ready to break out of the cage her mother, Jersey (Kennedy Caughell), has placed her in. Jersey, a single mom, isn’t a tyrant. She just doesn’t want to see her daughter make the same mistakes that she did, namely get pregnant at a young age before she’s had a chance to realize her own dreams.

The book by playwright Kristoffer Diaz (“The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity”) is structured around a loving but combustible mother-daughter relationship amid the creative ferment of New York. This artistic neverland is crystallized in the apartment building that has music pouring out of every floor when Ali rides the elevator.

Maya Drake as Ali and the company of the North American Tour of Alicia Keys’ “Hell’s Kitchen” at the Hollywood Pantages Theatre.

(Marc J. Franklin)

The story isn’t the strong suit of “Hell’s Kitchen,” which is powered by Alicia Keys’ versatile catalog, which has been supplemented with original material. The hits — “You Don’t Know My Name,” “Girl on Fire,” “Fallin’,” “If I Ain’t Got You,” “Like You’ll Never See Me Again,” “No One” and “Empire State of Mind,” among them — reverberate inside the Pantages with a thrilling exuberance.

What’s most impressive, however, is the way these tracks have been arranged both musically and dramatically. Jukebox musicals are notorious for shoe-horning in beloved songs without regard for storytelling integrity. “Mamma Mia!,” which crammed in as many ABBA hits as possible, hardly even bothered to find pretext for their inclusion. The lucrative example paved the way for more than two decades of musical theater shamelessness.

The company of the North American Tour of Alicia Keys’ “Hell’s Kitchen” at the Hollywood Pantages Theatre.

(Marc J. Franklin)

“Hell’s Kitchen,” directed by Michael Greif, takes a more dignified approach, raiding Keys’ greatest hits in a way that doesn’t cause dramatic offense and better yet, adds a layer of surprise to music that is so well known.

The songs are allocated in unexpected ways. Numbers that you might think belong to Ali are divided among the company. Jersey is first in line, and Caughell makes the most of her opportunities. But sharing in the bounty are Davis (Desmond Sean Ellington), Ali’s mostly absent and chronically unreliable father; Knuck (Jonavery Worrell), Ali’s forbidden love interest; or Miss Liza Jane (Roz White), a pianist who lives in the building and becomes Ali’s formidable mentor.

There are other characters who offer luminous assistance, but these are the principals in a musical tale built around Ali’s central relationships. Keys’ origin story is more dynamic on an atmospheric than dramatic level. A mother having difficulty with her boy-crazy teenage daughter isn’t exactly breaking any ground, and Diaz avoids venturing into more turbulent territory. Ali’s divided identity, stemming in part from an all-too-present white mother and all-too-missing Black father, sets up issues that are touched on but never deeply engaged.

Desmond Sean Ellington as Davis and Kennedy Caughell as Jersey and the company of the North American Tour of Alicia Keys’ “Hell’s Kitchen” at the Hollywood Pantages Theatre.

(Marc J. Franklin)

Miss Liza Jane spots Ali’s musical gift right away and fills her with a sense of pride and responsibility in her Black heritage. But her character’s role is somewhat earnestly compartmentalized. Knuck recognizes that Ali’s fascination with him stems in part from the way she sees him, much as her mother does, as a “thug.” But their tentative affair is secondary to the complex bond between Ali and Jersey, whose troubled connection with Davis helps Ali understand why her mother is so paranoid about her romantic choices.

But these concerns fall away when the performers start singing. Drake has a beautiful voice, but her Ali is slighter than that of Maleah Joi Moon, who won a Tony for her Broadway debut performance. I didn’t mind that Davis sings “Fallin’,” as Ellington has a voice of luscious thunder. Worrell’s Knuck more than holds his own with his duets with Ali. (In fact, I was more taken by his velvety interpretation of “Like You’ll Never See Me Again” than Ali’s more straightforwardly pretty version.) White’s Miss Liza Jane takes the Pantages audience to church in her numbers. And when Caughell magnificently directs “No One” to Ali, I can’t imagine there’s a dry eye in the house.

Desmond Sean Ellington as Davis and Maya Drake as Ali in the North American Tour of Alicia Keys’ “Hell’s Kitchen” at the Hollywood Pantages Theatre.

(Marc J. Franklin)

This tour production isn’t crisp in all areas. The dancing isn’t always smooth, the costumes struck me as a road show idea of New York cool, and the acting didn’t do much to compensate for some of the book’s less subtle moments.

But the energy of the production is infectious. “Hell’s Kitchen,” a New York story of a wunderkind discovering her gift, helped me get over my allergy to the jukebox genre. The soaring quality of the orchestra and the delectable company of voices pay exhilarating homage to a singular artist, who seems right at home at the Pantages.

Starring: Marshall Williams, Richard Harmon and Alex Essoe
Directed by: James Kondelik
Rated: NR
Running Time: 108 minutes

Our Score: 1.5 out of 5 Stars

Survival horror is the ultimate guilty pleasure because you can amplify any life-or-death situation into the paranormal, horrific, thrilling, or cruelly dramatic extremes it finds itself in. So why doesn’t “Pitfall” come close to tickling “The Ritual,” “The Blair Witch Project,” or “Wolf Creek” vibes?

Woods and grief feel like a ritualistic trope at this point as “Pitfall” opens on Scott (Marshall Williams) and Ashley (Alex Essoe) mourning the death of their parents. For reasons that may or may not be revealed later, they join three friends on an ominous trip that quickly introduces the titular pitfall, a massive trap designed to kill prey.

The movie constantly battles convention with unpredictability. The problem is that at more than 100 minutes long, there’s plenty of time to sit around and wonder where the story is heading. If “Pitfall” moved with the frantic pace of a Tuesday afternoon soap opera on meth, maybe I’d be swept up in the chaos. Instead, I found myself waiting for reveals that felt more eye-rolling than shocking.

I really wanted to like “Pitfall” because of how invested it is in physical violence, emotional trauma, and psychological brutality. Unfortunately, the movie never convinced me it knew what to do with those ideas. By the time it arrives at its revelations and ultimate purpose, “Pitfall” feels less like a title and more like a review.