Spree (2020)

Spree is a nasty little lightning bolt of a movie that turns our obsession with likes, livestreams, and “content” into a high-speed, darkly funny nightmare you can’t look away from. Eugene Kotlyarenko shoots it with a frantic, screen-within-a-screen energy that feels like doomscrolling at 80 miles an hour, and Joe Keery is terrific as Kurt: equal parts creepy, needy, and weirdly pathetic in a way that makes the satire sting. The laughs are sharp, the tension is real, and the film keeps tightening its grip as the night spirals, especially once a passenger with real clout enters the car. It’s not for the squeamish or anyone tired of social-media commentary—the violence is brutal and the language is constant—but if you want a thriller that’s as entertaining as it is uncomfortably on-the-nose, this one delivers.

Spree is clearly aiming to be a nasty little satire about clout-chasing and the way violence gets packaged as content, using a livestream/ride-share gimmick to keep everything frantic and “online.” The problem is the commentary often stops at shouting the obvious, so if you’re hoping for sharp, evolving social critique, it can feel shallow, forced, and a bit try-hard. It’s also extremely violent and profanity-heavy, and the humor is the cringe-and-chaos variety—if that style irritates you, the whole ride will feel like being trapped in a car with someone desperate for attention. That said, Joe Keery commits hard, the format has a few clever moments, and if you want a mean, high-energy thriller-comedy that plays like a grimy internet spiral, you may still get what you came for.