Cam (2018)

Cam is the rare modern horror film that feels genuinely of-the-moment, turning the everyday mechanics of online performance into a sleek, skin-crawling mystery about who gets to own your identity. Daniel Goldhaber directs with a neon-lit precision, building suspense not through cheap jolts but through the steady, unbearable feeling of watching your life become content for someone else. Madeline Brewer is terrific—smart, vulnerable, and ferociously watchable—as the story tightens its grip, balancing empathy with a thriller’s forward momentum. It’s frank about sex work and features explicit material, so it won’t be for everyone, but if you want a stylish, unsettling ride that leaves you thinking long after the screen goes dark, this one’s worth logging in for.

Cam is clearly trying to turn a modern online fear—your identity being hijacked—into a sleek, anxiety-soaked mystery, and it deserves credit for treating the camgirl world with more curiosity than cheap judgment. The problem is that the screen-heavy style can start to feel like you’re watching the same panic loop repeat, and the pacing leans more “spiral” than “escalation,” which may test your patience. If you need a clean set of answers or a big, satisfying payoff, the film’s more open-ended approach can feel like it’s withholding rather than intriguing. Still, Madeline Brewer sells the paranoia and desperation, and if you like tech-era horror that’s more unsettling concept than conventional scares, you’ll probably get more out of it than someone looking for a tidy thriller.