When the Apocalypse Goes Online
Antisocial (2013) is one of those movies that tries to be clever about technology but ends up feeling like your grandma’s Facebook post about “the dangers of TikTok.” It’s a Canadian horror flick directed by Cody Calahan, who clearly watched The Ring, 28 Days Later, and one too many TED Talks on social media addiction before deciding to mash them together with the budget of a college film project and the personality of a dead router.
The result? A film that wants to warn us about how social media is turning us into monsters — but accidentally proves the opposite, because no one in this movie is interesting enough to justify following online or offline.
The Setup: Party Like It’s the End of the Internet
Our story begins with Sam (Michelle Mylett), a college student whose boyfriend dumps her via video chat — which is pretty relatable if you’ve ever been ghosted mid-Zoom meeting. Heartbroken and desperate to prove she’s still a fun person, Sam accepts an invite from her friend Mark to ring in the new year at a small house party full of people who look like the rejected extras from Skins.
Everything’s painfully ordinary until their friend Jed turns on the TV, which starts broadcasting footage of random acts of violence. Turns out there’s a new disease spreading faster than a Kardashian rumor — and unlike COVID, this one comes with hallucinations, seizures, and the overwhelming desire to murder everyone in the room.
Naturally, the group reacts with calm, rational decision-making. Just kidding — they barricade themselves inside the house, shout at each other for an hour, and scroll social media for updates as the apocalypse unfolds. Because apparently, if you don’t livestream your descent into madness, it doesn’t count.
Social Media Kills (and So Does Bad Screenwriting)
The film’s central gimmick is that the virus spreads through the internet — specifically, through a social media platform called “Social Redroom.” (Yes, that’s the real name, and yes, it sounds like something you’d find on the dark web sandwiched between illegal Bitcoin exchanges and fanfiction about Jeff Bezos.)
The idea is that overexposure to the network triggers the infection, turning users into violent, self-mutilating lunatics. Basically, Facebook meets The Exorcist. It’s a clever concept — or it would be, if the movie didn’t treat it with the subtlety of a YouTube conspiracy theorist shouting about 5G towers.
Rather than exploring any actual commentary about online addiction or paranoia, Antisocial opts for jump scares, nosebleeds, and characters screaming “WHAT’S HAPPENING?!” every five minutes. It’s like watching a group of panicked influencers realize they’ve lost Wi-Fi.
The Cast: Zombies Would Have More Personality
Michelle Mylett (who’s since gone on to much better work in Letterkenny) does her best as Sam, but she’s fighting a losing battle against a script that gives her the emotional depth of a Snapchat filter. Her defining traits are “sad,” “confused,” and “constantly holding a smartphone.”
Her party companions — Mark, Jed, Kaitlin, Steve, and Chad — all blend together in a blur of bad decisions and worse dialogue. You can tell them apart only by how quickly they die or how loudly they complain. There’s also Brian, who’s stuck in his dorm livestreaming the end of the world, which makes him the film’s most relatable character. At least he has the sense to stay home during a viral outbreak.
Still, every conversation sounds like it was written by someone who’s never heard actual human speech. When the group discovers the virus might spread through online videos, one of them asks, “So… we shouldn’t go online?” as if that’s a profound revelation and not basic survival instinct.
The Pacing: Buffering… Still Buffering
If Antisocial were a web video, it’d be one of those cursed clips that loads halfway and freezes forever. The first act sets up some promise — creepy reports, eerie phone footage, the growing sense that something’s wrong. But once everyone’s trapped inside, the movie slows to a crawl, circling the same few ideas over and over.
There’s no sense of escalation, no creativity in how the infection manifests, and no fun to be had watching a bunch of people argue in dim lighting. You could literally replace every scene of shouting with a “404 Error” screen and it would have the same emotional impact.
By the time the first infected person attacks, you’re too numbed by tedium to care. It’s like waiting for your antivirus software to finish scanning — you’re just staring at the progress bar, praying for it to end.
The Horror: Blood, Brains, and Boredom
Credit where it’s due — when the movie does finally embrace its body-horror elements, it delivers a few decently nasty moments. There’s blood, there’s screaming, and there’s a climactic sequence involving a lobotomy that’s genuinely uncomfortable to watch (though not for the reasons intended).
But the scares are inconsistent. One minute you’re watching someone go full 28 Days Later and bash their head into a wall; the next, the movie cuts to a painfully awkward conversation about whether anyone’s seen the latest viral video. It’s hard to be terrified when you’re half-expecting someone to check how many likes their infection post got.
The makeup effects are serviceable in that sticky, low-budget way — lots of fake blood and pulsing veins. But the cinematography is so dark that you can’t tell what’s happening half the time. It’s like the movie’s been infected with its own visual virus: blurry, grainy, and glitching between “creepy atmosphere” and “someone forgot to pay the lighting bill.”
The Message: Get Off the Internet (But Not Before Rating This Film)
At its core, Antisocial wants to be a cautionary tale — a Black Mirror-style critique of how social media isolates us, turning connection into contagion. But instead of thoughtful commentary, it gives us a group of hipsters screaming “SOCIAL REDROOM DID THIS TO US!” like an after-school special produced by Reddit.
It’s the cinematic equivalent of your uncle forwarding you a chain email about how screens are “rewiring our brains.” Sure, he’s technically not wrong, but after the fourth all-caps warning about the dangers of selfies, you start rooting for the virus.
The Ending: Unfriended, Forever
By the time the credits roll, most of the characters are dead, the world’s gone offline, and Sam’s left to fend for herself. She’s infected, possibly cured, possibly hallucinating — it’s all very ambiguous, in that lazy, “we ran out of budget” kind of way.
There’s a sequel (Antisocial 2), which proves the film’s title is misleading — because apparently, it does want to stay connected. The follow-up promises to expand on the lore, but really, once you’ve seen one Canadian college student bash their head in after checking notifications, you’ve seen them all.
Final Diagnosis: Unfriended, Unfun, Unnecessary
Antisocial isn’t terrible enough to be a so-bad-it’s-good classic, but it’s too bland to be memorable. It’s the horror equivalent of doomscrolling: repetitive, exhausting, and vaguely depressing. Every time you think it’s about to say something smart about online culture, it just devolves into another poorly lit chase scene and a nosebleed.
There’s a good idea buried somewhere — a viral outbreak transmitted through our digital obsessions — but like most online content, it’s buried under a pile of noise, clickbait, and fake outrage.
Verdict: ★★☆☆☆
Antisocial is like your worst night on social media: full of bad takes, fake news, and people you wish you’d never friended. It’s not scary enough to be horror, not smart enough to be satire, and not short enough to be forgiven.
The message is clear: the internet might rot your brain — but at least it won’t make you sit through this movie.
