User reviews

This was truly a terrible movie. I didn't enjoy one single solitary bit or moment of this. FF is my jam, but this is barely watchable. This isn't edgy or unique. It's a ripoff of Maniac and inferior to say the least. I was so bored within the first seven minutes, that I just ended up fast-forwarding through most of the movie. I stopped when it looked like there would be something other than this dude just walking. There was not. It was an attempt to make one feel uneasy and think about how you would feel if you had someone in your home. I don't have high standards for movies, especially FF. But I have nothing nice to say about this one. Nothing redeeming. I seriously recommend staying away.

What happens when your private life becomes someone else's obsession?

Have you ever paused before leaving your house and wondered-what if someone's watching? Or worse, what if you're not truly alone inside your own home?

That creeping sense of unease, the kind you can't quite shake-the one rooted in real-world fears like stalkers, break-ins, and the erosion of personal privacy-is at the heart of "Looky-loo," a deeply unsettling indie gem from 2024.

Written by Nolan Mihail and directed by Jason Zink, this slow-burn, first-person found footage thriller unfolds like a chilling case study in obsession.

It follows an aspiring filmmaker who compulsively documents everything around him-until his camera lens narrows in on unsuspecting women. What begins as passive observation spirals into something far more invasive, and far more disturbing.

Yes, the narrative may seem predictable-but that's exactly what makes it so horrifying. "Looky-loo" doesn't rely on sensational twists. Instead, it taps into one of our most primal fears: that quiet, familiar terror of knowing exactly where this is going... and being powerless to stop it.

There's no dramatic score, no flashy scares-just raw, ambient sounds and haunting silences that wrap the film in an eerie realism.

It's an experience that leaves you feeling complicit, like a voyeur watching through the same lens as the disturbed mind behind the camera. You don't just observe the horror-you inhabit it.

By the end, "Looky-loo" lingers uncomfortably under your skin.

You'll find yourself questioning the sanctity of your own space-and wondering, next time something goes missing, whether it was ever misplaced... or if someone quietly took it while you weren't looking.