We’ve all spent late nights falling down the rabbit hole of weird internet mysteries, clicking from one creepy, low-res YouTube video to another until the sun comes up. YouTube film critic Chris Stuckmann turned that exact modern obsession into his Kickstarter-funded directorial debut, Shelby Oaks. Starting out as a viral, real-world alternate-reality game called The Paranormal Paranoids, the original videos convinced som epeople this was all real.

This starts with those Paranormal Paranoids — Riley Brennan (Sarah Durn), Laura Tucker (Caisey Cole), David Reynolds (Eric Francis Melaragni) and Peter Bailey (Anthony Baldasare) — disappearing while investigating a prison in Shelby Oaks. The bodies of all but Riley are found. One camera is recoved and it shows Riley losing her mind. Then, the film follows her sister Mia (Camille Sullivan) twelve years after her sister Riley  and her amateur ghost-hunting crew vanished from the face of the Earth in an abandoned Ohio town.

When a crazed stranger shows up on Mia’s doorstep, mutters a cryptic warning and paints the porch with his brains, he leaves behind a mini-DV tape that blows the cold case wide open. Soon, Mia is divorced from reality (and her husband, played by Brendan Sexton III), chasing down the former prison warden of Shelby Oaks (Keith David) and hiking into the decaying heart of the penitentiary to find out what happened to her sister.

The first 17 minutes of this movie play out like a slick, dread-inducing true-crime documentary mixed with found footage. Shooting at real-deal spooky midwest locations like the Ohio State Reformatory and Chippewa Lake Park gives the film a gritty, rust-belt decay that you just can’t fake on a Hollywood soundstage.

Once the movie ditches the found-footage/documentary style and shifts to a conventional narrative, it loses its footing. It’s like watching two different movies stitched together by a mad scientist. By the time we get to the basement of a dilapidated farmhouse, the movie throws everything at the wall to see what sticks. We get a violent prison inmate who didn’t want to escape, an elderly cultist mother (Robin Bartlett, a parasitic incubus named Tarion, a squad of Swedish-imported hellhounds and a demonic pregnancy plotline.

Neon bought the movie after its 2024 Fantasia premiere, ordered reshoots to amp up the gore, altered the ending, and cut 11 minutes of backstory. Is that why the result feels rushed and a bit incoherent by the time the credits roll?

Stuckmann clearly knows his horror history and shows flashes of real directorial confidence, especially when he’s letting the quiet dread build. It doesn’t quite stick the landing, but as a calling card for a new filmmaker, it’s fine. You could do a hell of a lot worse.