I’m still replaying certain scenes in my head because this movie is one of those psychological thrillers that unsettles you, makes you question your own boundaries, your own choices.
What caught me right away was how ordinary it all seemed at first. Michael, the straight-laced, somewhat timid guy—you know the type, hardworking, polite, predictable. He’s the kind of character you might overlook in real life, the quiet one at the office who always follows the rules. And then, in comes Alex. Charismatic, daring, magnetic in that dangerous way that makes you lean in even when you know you should lean back. The dynamic between them pulled me in because it felt so real: that tension between who you are and who you secretly wish you could be.
It was both exciting and scary to observe Michael gradually becoming a slave to Alex. I was not sure whom to blame, and was tempted to feel complicit, since on the one hand I wished Michael to come out of his shell, to experience freedom, to say yes to the darker urges that we all suppress. And then the kick in the gut--that there was no freedom under Alex. It was murder camouflaged as freedom. And it struck me not as hard as I had imagined, because isn’t it in all of us that we have had instances that we confused recklessness with freedom, that we have been influenced by another person and pulled into making decisions that we hardly saw as our own?
It had an amusing place or two--not in the ha-ha sense, but in the uneasy, embarrassed sense when you are viewing someone in a situation of error which you have just barely escaped yourself. The events, the promiscuous evenings, the smug contentment with which Michael peeled off his old skin, it was intoxicating to observe. I thought that cooling of recognition, that voice, that says, What, just once? That is what made the movie stick in my head: it brings out a mirror to those dangerous fantasies.
However, there were some times when I was literally gutted. It was not only appalling when Alex took off his mask and you knew who you were dealing with, it was choking. The understanding that Michael was locked up, that what began as fun now was life-destroying, broke my heart. It was a reminder of the fact that there is a thin line between choice and coercion and how power can so easily be taken away when you are too generous with yourself.
That discomfort was supplemented by the cinematography, the slick night scenes against the sterile and rather ordinary life that Michael used to have. It was as though you were witnessing two worlds bleeding into one each other till you could not distinguish between them. The visual feeling of being lost was a reflection of how Michael was also unzipping and I was feeling it in my chest.
By the point where the movie hit its peak, I was not merely watching a thriller, I was struggling with my own questions. Who are my people who I allow to influence me? At what point do I border the desire to change and be lost? That is what keeps Bad Influence in your head, it is not only about Michael and Alex, but it is about everyone, the frailty of self when confronted with temptation and charm.
At the end of the credits, I did not experience relief. It bothered me, as though I had been reminded about something that I would rather not have known: that sometimes the worst villains are not monsters or strangers, but those very people who smile and smile when they are uninviting us, smiling when they are unzipping us.
It felt like watching, then, how? It was the sensation of seduction and betrayal at the same time. It was like trying something that is dangerous and then discovering that it is poison. And that is why Bad Influence is not any other thriller, it is a silent alert disguised as entertainment.
Thumbnail is designed by me on pixelLab and other images are screenshot from the movie