Camera Obscura—a 2017 horror film directed by Aaron B. Koontz and written by Koontz and Cameron Burns—hopes to give you a terrifying glimpse into the world of a PTSD-ridden war photographer who has the unfortunate ability to predict death through his camera. Sounds cool, right? Sure, if you’re into watching a film that seems to have stolen the plot from a better movie, but forgot to bring any of the scares along. What we get instead is a confused mess of half-baked ideas, poorly executed suspense, and a protagonist so unlikeable that you might wish for the camera to predict his death.
The Premise: Is This “Final Destination” or “Final… No, Seriously, Please Make It End”?
The basic idea of Camera Obscura is deceptively interesting: Jack Zeller (Christopher Denham), a war photographer who’s clearly never seen a well-lit room or a therapist, starts seeing people’s deaths in his photos taken with an antique camera. These premonitions are a result of his PTSD—an affliction that, if you’ve ever seen a horror movie, seems like a convenient way to make your character act like a paranoid, twitchy mess without any real explanation. For a film that’s supposed to explore trauma, it sure has a funny way of doing it, leaning more into supernatural nonsense than addressing the psychological damage PTSD actually causes. So, Jack is trapped in a loop where he tries to stop these terrible deaths, and unsurprisingly, they just keep happening. Sounds like a potential high-stakes thriller, right? Well, it’s a lot like watching someone play Final Destination while sitting on a chair made of dull knives.
But, alas, Jack is a war photographer who acts like he’s too cool to care, even when death is literally hanging over his head. This would be fine, if the movie didn’t expect us to feel sympathy for him when he can’t put down his camera long enough to realize that he’s watching a self-fulfilling prophecy of death. The plot attempts to make Jack a tragic hero, but mostly, he’s just a guy who shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near an antique store.
The Characters: Heroes You Wouldn’t Trust to Babysit Your Pet Rock
Speaking of Jack, let’s talk about his character. Jack is meant to be the kind of tortured soul we root for—a man haunted by the things he’s seen and the lives he couldn’t save. Instead, we get a man who acts like an emotionally distant robot whose only personality trait is “angst.” Is he likable? Not in the slightest. He has no redeeming qualities, and by the time you start feeling sorry for him, you’re too busy wishing he’d stop looking at that camera like it’s a magic crystal ball to care.
Then there’s his wife, Claire (Nadja Bobyleva), who does her best to look concerned while Jack acts like the brooding protagonist of a high-school drama. Her entire purpose in this movie is to be the “long-suffering spouse” trope, showing up every now and then to tell Jack he needs help or, more accurately, to scold him for putting more stock into his camera than into their marriage. If Camera Obscura were a drinking game, you could take a shot every time Claire says, “Jack, you need help,” but by the end of the movie, you’d be dead from alcohol poisoning.
Oh, and we can’t forget Walt (Noah Segan), a friend of Jack’s who might as well be called “Plot Device #1,” whose sole job is to serve as a sounding board for Jack’s ramblings. The writers must have thought, “Hey, we need a character who will listen to Jack whine for an hour and occasionally offer up some tough love.” Unfortunately, Walt’s role is more of a plot afterthought than a useful character, which seems to be a theme with most of the film.
The Death Predictions: A Supernatural Thriller That Can’t Get Out of Its Own Way
Now, let’s talk about the film’s core idea—Jack’s ability to predict death with his camera. It’s a cool concept on paper. Unfortunately, in execution, it’s more “Hey, look at me, I’m spooky” than “Oh no, we’re all doomed!” The way the film tries to build suspense is by showing Jack flipping through photos like an Instagram influencer who’s really into death predictions. Unfortunately, the suspense doesn’t land, and the buildup feels more like a weird, awkward slideshow at a family gathering where everyone’s silently judging the photographer’s bad editing choices.
The biggest issue with the film’s supernatural elements is that they don’t feel supernatural—they just feel… stupid. The deaths that Jack predicts are as predictable as the plot twists in a daytime soap opera. There’s nothing subtle or chilling about them. Instead, we get a series of increasingly ridiculous death scenarios, most of which make you question whether the director was trolling the audience or if he simply ran out of time to make a cohesive narrative.
The Ending: So, You’re Telling Me… This Is How It Ends?
And then there’s the ending, which is about as satisfying as a soggy pizza. The “twist” is so transparent that you’ll see it coming from a mile away, even if you’ve never seen a horror movie in your life. It’s the kind of twist where the film just stops giving a damn and assumes you’ll be too tired from rolling your eyes to care. By the time the credits roll, you’ll feel like you’ve wasted your time watching a film that promised mind-bending horror but delivered an experience that was more frustrating than frightening.
In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the final cut of the film was edited while the filmmakers were taking a nap, just to ensure they didn’t have to actually try hard. The ending is so anti-climactic that I half expected Jack to pick up his camera and start taking pictures of the audience to add to his “collection” of bad decisions. It’s the cinematic equivalent of showing up to a party and finding out they’ve run out of snacks, the music is terrible, and no one wants to talk to you.
Conclusion: The Camera Should’ve Been Left in the Drawer
If you’re looking for a film that might inspire you to buy a new camera and take up a hobby like birdwatching or knitting, Camera Obscura is the movie for you. But if you’re hoping for a genuinely scary film about PTSD, death, and the supernatural, you’re better off watching a toddler’s scribblings on a wall while trying to come up with a plot.
The moral of the story? Don’t trust old cameras. Or, you know, old movies that think they can pass off terrible jump scares as actual tension. Camera Obscura isn’t scary, it’s tedious. It isn’t thrilling, it’s frustrating. It’s a horror movie that needs an exorcism of its own—preferably from the writers and directors who tried to make it something it clearly wasn’t. If you like films where the suspense is more about how long you’ll stay awake, then by all means, grab some popcorn and settle in for the most predictable “thriller” of your life.
Rating: ★★☆☆☆ – You won’t be scared, you won’t be surprised, and you may just find yourself questioning why you didn’t choose a better movie to watch. Camera Obscura is a haunted house, but the only thing that’s scary is the fact that you’re watching it.
