In Shelby Oaks, Mia Brennan (Camille Sullivan) obsessively searches for her sister, Riley (Sarah Durn), who went missing in the abandoned town of Shelby Oaks in 2008. Before she vanished, Riley hosted a paranormal investigation YouTube channel with three friends—all of whom have been found slain with their faces eviscerated. She remains missing.
While filming a documentary about her sister, a disheveled man comes to Mia’s door. He kills himself in front of her with a small videotape in his hand. The tape, which reveals more details about Riley’s disappearance, shows her last moments before disappearing. After clandestinely watching the eerie tape, Mia becomes more determined than ever to find and rescue her sibling.
Because of its marketing—and the fact that this flick was directed by film critic Chris Stuckmann and produced by Mike Flanagan (Midnight Mass, Doctor Sleep) and Aaron B. Koontz (Scare Package I & II)—I expected Shelby Oaks to be a gritty, under-your-skin, in-your-bones horror, with a focus on found footage, well-paced scares, and practical effects. Instead, Stuckmann’s directional debut is, at best, OK.
Stuckmann offers an eerie, entertaining watch at times (notably in the grainy VHS footage)—but it’s not enough to create a scary, impressionable feature.

Shelby Oaks’ disjointed storytelling creates a jumbled mixed media flick (part-documentary, part-feature film), making this debut feel unsure of itself and its tone. To make matters worse, Oaks utilizes CGI-heavy hellhounds and incubi that pluck you out of the narrative. More convincing demons have been shown on shows like Paranormal Witness and A Haunting.
The use of such obvious CGI in a genre in which practical effects are celebrated was extremely disappointing and surprising. It effectively extinguished any fear, fumbled the film’s jump scares and atmosphere, and significantly lowered the stakes.
Oaks’ overarching story is, unfortunately, very been-there, done-that. It feels like a mix of Rosemary’s Baby, Midsommar, and The Ritual squashed together.
The film’s final act is rushed, with Mia’s decisions feeling out of character in contrast to her initial introduction of being a grieving woman desperate to find and care for her sister, no matter what. In tandem, Brennan and Durn’s performances feel wooden at times, notably in Riley’s final plea for help in the videotape, and Mia’s final scene before the credits roll.
The whispers of an atmospheric horror film are there in Stuckmann’s found footage sequences and narrative structure, but Oaks can’t quite get there.
It feels like it’s missing something—like there’s a gaping hole in this story that wasn’t filled.
Shelby Oaks
dir. Chris Stuckmann
102 min.
Opens Friday, 10/24 @ Apple Cinemas Cambridge, Alamo Drafthouse Boston Seaport, and all local AMCs

