Can a fantastic horror film be constructed from a selection of legendary titles? That’s the inquiry raised after viewing *Shelby Oaks*, the ambitious yet somewhat disjointed debut feature from well-known YouTube movie critic Chris Stuckmann.

The film begins by persuading you it’s one narrative, but swiftly unearths itself as something completely different. Ranging from *The Blair Witch Project* to *Martyrs* to *Barbarian* and beyond, *Shelby Oaks* doesn’t merely showcase its genre inspirations — it displays them in abundance. It’s a patchwork of numerous horror films, crafted from both shallow and deep cuts. While some sections fit perfectly, others might require a bit more finesse.

Nonetheless, in the realm of Kickstarter-backed debuts, *Shelby Oaks* makes a significant, audacious attempt — produced by horror maestro Mike Flanagan, renowned for Netflix horror miniseries such as *The Haunting of Hill House* and *The Fall of the House of Usher*. It is intricate, features outstanding performances, and presents some quite gripping and eerie visuals. Most importantly, it signals the rise of a horror filmmaker to keep an eye on.

*Shelby Oaks* interweaves *The Blair Witch Project* with *Lake Mungo* — and that’s merely the beginning.

“Who is responsible for Riley Brennan’s disappearance?” serves as the central question of *Shelby Oaks*. The film starts with the last known footage of Riley Brennan (Sarah Durn), a YouTuber/ghost hunter, prior to her vanishing in the eponymous town. In this scene, she sits on a bed in a woodland cabin, crying and frightened, addressing the camera, “I’m so scared.”

It’s a brief leap from Riley’s sorrow to Heather Donahue’s tearful apology in *The Blair Witch Project*, asserting, “I’m scared to close my eyes, and I’m scared to open them.”

Writer-director Stuckmann anticipates that his horror-loving viewers will make this connection. However, he then does something intriguing, shifting from the found-footage approach to a true-crime documentary format. Ten years after Riley’s disappearance, her elder sister, Mia (Camille Sullivan), has dedicated years to uncovering the truth behind what transpired in Shelby Oaks. She’s now featured in a true-crime documentary to rekindle interest in her sister’s case.

For horror enthusiasts, this transition might evoke *Lake Mungo*. Presented through interviews with the family of the missing girl, the 2008 Australian horror film unveils its supernatural aspects through dialogues and phone video. *Lake Mungo* is a more profound reference than *The Blair Witch Project*, but as soon as *Shelby Oaks* settles into this faux-documentary style, Stuckmann pivots yet again to a conventional narrative film. As conventional as movies like *Hereditary* or *Barbarian* can be.

Essentially, *Shelby Oaks* retains its cast but discards the documentary framework, revealing what is “truly” occurring through artifice, compelling us to question what is genuine. The cinematography becomes stylized, employing special effects, slow motion, and close-ups; an assertive score dominates the soundscape. The film transitions from narrative segments to the documentary structure to found footage and back again, amplifying the narrative discomfort.

These structural sleights of hand, akin to clever rug-pulls, are where *Shelby Oaks* executes its enchantment. Playing into the expectations of horror aficionados, Stuckmann keeps us guessing, even bewildered. We shift from missing-person found footage to the cult horror elements of *Hereditary* with the turns of *Martyrs* and *Barbarian*, and then back to a true-crime documentary. This fosters its own disconnection within the viewing experience.

*Shelby Oaks* is an eclectic mix of horror, ranging from found footage to Satanic panic.

Despite these transitions, *Shelby Oaks* starts to feel increasingly like the pieces of its aggregate. Stuckmann hints at other films to disorient us, but these references often detract from the narrative and diminish our engagement. For example, casting Brendan Sexton III as Mia’s spouse proves distracting, even though he is excellent. An actor who has consistently impressed since *Welcome to the Dollhouse*, Sexton delivers yet another poignant, melancholic performance. However, place him in scenes set in a haunted prison, and all I can think about is *Session 9*, where Sexton portrayed an asbestos remover in a haunted prison.

What purpose does this serve? When do these Easter eggs become excessive? These references ultimately hinder *Shelby Oaks* from standing independently and achieving genuine fright. Stuckmann appears conscious of when his scares ought to land, often to the extent of self-awareness. You could time the arrival of the dreaded element, and it would hit that mark without fail. There are moments when a surprise twist would have worked better than a straightforward approach, but Stuck…