Sean Parker
After Fixed Frequency, I thought the trajectory for Tales from the Void showed signs that the series would steadily rise as we approached the finale. But in episode three, Starlight, showrunners John Thomas Kelley and Francesco Loschiavo may have missed the mark and played their sardonic hand a little too sharply. Based on João André Narigueta Ribeiro’s r/NoSleep story “The Million Dollar Question,” Starlight asks how far one wannabe influencer will go to get the attention he’s tried so hard to attain.
Spoilers ahead for Tales from the Void: Starlight.
Let’s call Whit Barnett (Sean Meldrum) exactly what he is: obsessive… also, douchebag. He can be two things. He can’t stay off his phone long enough for his friend Nicholas (Scott Farley) to engage in a conversation, nor does it seem like he wants one. Knowing the party they’re going to will have influencer Charlie Jeffries (Justyce Bieuz) in attendance is all that is currently pumping serotonin through Whit’s brain. So much so that he abandons another friend, Jenny (Samantha Aucoin), mid-sentence to become an obnoxious orbital mass hovering around the momentary fame Charlie possesses.
There’s also a very underrated metaphor in Whit’s value of friendships. To have a good friend, you need to be a good friend, and Whit isn’t that. He’s unable to take the hint of how absurdly rude and disruptive he was at the party as Nicholas drives him home and is forced to spell it out to a dumbfounded Whit, realizing on the way that Whit only sees him as a taxi service. Since they probably haven’t been friends in a long while, Nicholas unfriends Whit IRL by leaving him on the side of the road. But Whit doesn’t need him. He doesn’t need anybody. What good are one or two great friends for when he could achieve greatness with a couple of million instead?
Though it isn’t going good for Whit, he doesn’t seem to notice. That’s when he gets a message from a producer of The Magnificent Million Dollar Question. The show reaches out to him, saying they like his content and think he’d be a perfect contestant, and Whit’s beside himself, thinking this could be his big break, possibly thinking he’s going to show everyone. Every day for Whit is like Groundhog Day, in some matter of speaking. He gets up, checks what’s trending, and then tries to convince an algorithm that he’s worth something. But unlike real content creators who possess charisma and talent, meticulously striving to upskill and advance, Whit presents a callow display of exclusivity that no one sticks around for.
This avenue is an interesting road for Meldrum to venture down in Whit’s shoes, who aptly deciphers Whit’s everchanging headspace. The character is in clear need of some form of psychological attention, and that’s just based on how he reacts to creating a marketable catchphrase he hopes sticks. For Whit, there is no balance, but there are also no stakes. The more we find out about Whit, the less appealing he becomes. He doesn’t work, gets an allowance from his parents, abandons friends, and has no moral compass or professional inclination. So, he’ll simply continue down this path while living off the money Mom and Dad give him, and it’s no more apparent than as Whit approaches his fatal end.
I’m not typically one for Starlight’s brand of cruelty toward influencers. Don’t misunderstand me. I get the comeuppance Tales from the Void is going for, but what some genuinely great content creators put themselves through is debilitating, unjustly held at the mercy of the algorithm and the general public’s consensus. Once they’ve tasted fame, good or bad, the pressure is on them to recreate the magic. It takes a lot of effort to get into and maintain that echelon status, only to have those watching you root for a fall from grace. I don’t think you need to look hard for an example. Just last month, influencer turned MMA fighter turned boxer Jake Paul challenged Heavyweight boxing phenom Mike Tyson in the ring, and many wanted to see Paul get pulverized. I think that’s why many choose to stay faceless, for the most part.
I understand the sentiment. Some of these personalities can be annoying. But, good or bad, I know I don’t have to watch or interact. Sometimes, outrage can be just as magnetic to attention seekers as enjoyable content. In Whit’s case, it’s that same insufferable nature that people associate with Jake Paul’s brand. Whit’s not creating content so much, as he is just an in-your-face jerk. He’s the literal definition of inconsiderate. And, when that polished, inauthentic version of Whit’s character fails to generate an online presence while posing in front of the limousine to take him to the game show, he pivots to false sincerity as a second option. To his core, he’s sucking his own hubris.
As co-writer and co-showrunner John Thomas Kelley says during James Cumming’s discussion after the episode:
“I think there is now a lot of value placed on this form of cheap fame, right? Where you’re simply famous for being accessible. So, with the episode, and again, this was something that Francesco and I spoke about, kind of at length. It would be interesting to take kind of an extreme version of that idea and play it through to its logical conclusion, right? Where we’re taking this guy, whose entire life is really, truly accessible, to the extent that he’s actually quite happy at the notion of dying on camera.”
Starlight eventually winds into what we know is coming. It feels pulled out of the Tales from the Crypt playbook, but even still, I prefer Ribeiro’s short story version of events over Kelley and Loschiavo’s, which favors a slower-paced approach to its reveal. Kelley and Loschiavo score big points for the final frames and the Giallo-esque sequence in the green room moments leading up to it. But, as the lights come up on a very circus-themed stage, the camera panning over the obvious fake crowd is enough evidence to suppress the atmosphere.
The Substance has a very similar stage set scene to Starlight’s, which references bits from King Kong and The Elephant Man, but the recently announced five-time Golden Globe nominee throws us some remarkable curveballs in revealing its own fame monster via beauty standards. While I understand Starlight is adapting a story, it manages to play out like many things we’ve seen before, and that’s rather disappointing, considering many of the other wonderful pieces of the episode. That includes the wonderful, albeit short, performance from Dan Abramovici (What We Do in the Shadows) as the ringmaster/host of The Magnificent Million Dollar Question. While he only uses a microphone, it may as well be a lion tamer’s whip the way he wakes Whit up to reality. The host’s apathy for the people watching him asserts an “I’m just here for the paycheck” vibe.
It almost feels like there’s an anti-Disney angle in Starlight’s message. The inspirational stories that once told dreamers to follow their hearts and be whatever they want never imagined someone would be disillusioned enough to strive for the middle on such little effort and providing no real contribution to society. Still, as naïve minds wander, the position creates realistic caveats, especially in the form of people trying to take advantage of them. As someone who posts all of these reviews on his Instagram and maybe only picks up one or two readers, my futile efforts find many malevolent phishers sliding into my DMs. Hell, I probably get asked to be a jewelry ambassador about once a month, even though I don’t wear any jewelry and have never posted anything featuring jewelry. But, unlike Whit, I know when something seems off and that if it’s too good to be true, it probably is.
Starlight ends with Whit getting everything he ever wants as the sham of a show reveals itself to be a snuff enterprise in disguise, a metaphor for the façade Whit puts on every time he livestreams or posts. The metaphor could have proven a little tighter with a glimpse into Whit being cruel on his channel, but we get a co-opted story about how Whit will spend the million dollars as a twisted joke. His disingenuous nature is karmically brought back to him through moral irony as the show’s true nature is revealed. But he’s not deterred even after being stabbed. To live a rich life with friends and loved ones, or to die in infamy? That is the question. As his masked slayer props him up for online viewers to see his final breath, Whit is content that he’s finally received his Norma Desmond moment: Ready for his final closeup.
There are a lot of fame-chaser films and a growing number of influencer reckoning horror releases on the market now, and rarely do I like them. Deadstream and Sissy were a few recent outliers, and Screambox subscribers can check out director Marcus Dunstan’s (whose always a fun time) film #AMFAD: All My Friends are Dead, but for the most part, this is a concept that is already tired and redundant where most follow similar patterns. As for Starlight, I think it will rank on the lower end of the season for me, but I’m looking forward to the remaining episodes of this excellently made anthology series.
Tales From the Void | Official Trailer
An episodic horror anthology series based on the most viral and haunting stories from the r/NoSleep community. Streaming on Screambox starting October 13.
