I have always believed the internet brings out the absolute worst in people. Not even in the dramatic “someone is yelling in all caps about politics again” way. I mean the subtle stuff. The exaggerated selfie angles. The curated vacations. The “effortlessly candid” shots that took 14 tries and a small emotional collapse. Half the time I scroll through social media, I wonder if we are all extras in a movie nobody asked to be cast in.

A horror movie, probably.

So, when Influencers showed up promising exactly that, a glossy horror satire about social media’s toxic circus, I settled in expecting to cringe, laugh and wince at how aggressively accurate it might get. And honestly, it delivers all of that. It just does not always deliver it at the same time.

The film picks back up after the first film, Influencer, with CW (played by Cassandra Naud), everyone’s favorite charming menace. She is trying to enjoy a romantic trip to southern France with her girlfriend, Diane (Lisa Delamar). It is supposed to be a peaceful anniversary getaway filled with sun, wine and relaxation. It is not supposed to involve any of the murder-oriented extracurriculars CW has a history of embracing. Of course, peace lasts approximately three minutes.

A British influencer named Charlotte (Georgina Campbell) swoops into their hotel like the human embodiment of a brand partnership and hijacks their suite.

From that moment on, the movie plays like a beautifully shot anxiety-filled dream. Every scene is drenched in warm Mediterranean light. Every backdrop looks like it belongs in a travel magazine. Every influencer on screen feels one minor inconvenience away from eating each other alive. In its strongest early moments, writer-director Kurtis David Harder clearly understands the assignment: The world of curated perfection is already horrifying.

All he has to do is tilt it a little.

CW is still the engine that makes this story purr, scream and eventually combust. She is both the character you want to root for and the one you want to lock in a room made entirely of bubble wrap and emotional boundaries. Watching her unravel, or maybe re-ravel since she was never woven correctly to begin with, is entertaining in that “I should not be enjoying this as much as I am” kind of way.

Her blend of charm, simmering rage and unsettling calm feels like a millennial Patrick Bateman trapped inside a never-ending carousel of reposts and algorithmic validation. And in a twisted way, you understand why she snaps. The world she is navigating is fake, brittle and aggressively self-focused. It practically begs to be torn down.

For about two thirds of the runtime, Influencers walks a surprisingly steady tightrope between satire and slasher energy. The jabs at curated online personas land. The commentary on parasocial friendships hits harder than expected. The paranoia creeping around the edges of CW’s perception feels uncomfortably real. Tell me an algorithm-shaped existence does not feel like it is sometimes stalking you.

But then the third act arrives, and the movie stops flirting with chaos. Instead, it charges face first into a mirror made of its own good intentions. The satire becomes muddy. The horror becomes louder without becoming more effective. Supporting characters flatten into basic influencer stereotypes. That choice might be intentional, but it also makes it difficult to care when those characters start dropping like flies. A few of the twists feel less like sharp commentary and more like the film tossing glitter into the air and calling it meaning.

The biggest problem is that Influencers cannot decide whether it wants to condemn influencer culture or participate in it. There are sections of the movie where it seems genuinely enamored with the very world it claims to criticize. It is like a slasher film that cannot stop admiring its own knife. The glossy shots, the pristine hotel rooms, the parade of beautiful people behaving terribly all feel a little too seductive for a story that is supposed to be repulsed by that seduction. And the ending, chaotic and fun in the moment, ends up weakening the more thoughtful ideas the movie explored earlier.

Still, even when Influencers stumbles, it is never dull. It is stylish, self-aware and has a wicked bite whenever it remembers its true purpose. And CW, chaotic force of nature that she is, remains one of horror’s more compelling modern villains. She is terrifying, she is hilarious, and she embodies every unhinged intrusive thought a person has ever had while doomscrolling through a feed full of rich strangers pretending everything is perfect.

I am giving Influencers three out of five stars. It is not top-tier horror. It is not reinventing anything. It is not even as sharp as it clearly thinks it is. But it is a fun and slightly deranged trip into the glitzy world of performative living, much like the first film.

I had fun.
I rolled my eyes.
I laughed at moments I am not proud of.
I checked my phone to make sure I was not accidentally documenting my own descent into madness on Instagram.

That is a win in my book.