Social media culture gets savaged by The Butler Brothers in this exquisitely catty, satirical splatter comedy.

Influencers Sasha (Manon Ens-Lapointe) and Chuck (Jacob Stickles) are in a contractual marriage because celebrities don’t date; they merge their careers after first “shagging in a yurt during rehab”.

She sells her sobs online, marketed as “Tears for Fears,” and communicates almost exclusively through inspirational-poster quotes and Pop-Psychology sound bites. He is a faded action movie star known for films like “White Ninja, Black Heart”, “The Zookeeper 2: Uncaged” and “Deviant Hypnotist”, who enjoys causing “clitorises to explode with his eyeballs” during tantric stare sex and prattling on about his delusional rivalry with Leo DiCaprio.

 They are a pair of deeply intolerable braggarts who had a baby together for online platform purposes but are now so inconvenienced by it they don’t even bother to give it a name. Not even a stupid pretentious one.

Together they hatch a totally preposterous plan to alleviate the draining responsibility of “Baby” and kick start the next viral phase of their sham relationship. The odious egomaniacs hold video auditions of their followers in order to select a suitable couple to invite on a weekend retreat of brainwashing and narcissistic supply.

Enter superfans Eileen and Bjorg, a new age couple who’s partnership is mired in the victimhood of two tragic miscarriages. She religiously drips Sasha’s teardrops into her eyes to assimilate her grief and says her favourite song is “Come On Eileen,” delivered with a sexy wink. He is a chronic approval seeking “simp”, unsure about his wife’s obsession with “levelling up,” and possesses an encyclopaedic knowledge of Chuck’s risible back catalogue.

Once they are inside Sasha and Chuck’s influencer cocoon, all hell breaks loose, and the struggle for scrolling world wins and digital dominance truly begins. The couples juxtaposed parental positions is the least of their differences as sexual and psychological carnage erupts in full contact entitlement warfare.

I’m not sure who pissed on their content cornflakes, but The Butler Brothers must really despise online creators. Starsuckers is a veritable landslide of vitriol against the slew of needy and narcissistic slop that carpet bombs timelines and infest every feed. You have to admire its single minded derision as it spits hate-balls like an overcooked gatling gun.

The film pretty much ignores the fourth wall and suspends all narrative logic as it achieves a cringe per frame ratio of extraordinary magnitude. Every single character is an insufferable twat, played to perfection by an impressive cast who must of read the script and poured a stiff drink.

Not least Manon Ens-Lapointe (Reacher),who at one stage masturbates frantically to a brutal dismemberment then wipes her fiddle fingers over the face and lips of her female co-star proudly declaring it to be “the scent of Sasha”.

Fans of outrageous screenplays will be in raptures over the tasteless one-liners and graphic cartoon violence. I seriously can’t remember a film more obsessed with shoving severed penises into their owners mouths. It’s all very trouser Pythonesque, but while that softens the slapstick slaughter some what, the verbal cruelty and callous chicanery still pinches a nerve of vulgarity that shocks the system.

As the movie sashays its way to its clever conclusion it pulls the reality rip cord and becomes entirely absurdist. Its brave and hilarious, but suggests no consequences for exploitation, rather a closed loop of depressing bottom feeding and self serving sustainability.

Those looking for a biting satire that goes bone deep will find much to revolt and revile in this filter free damnation of how our culture has been bastardised into a viral commodity.

★★★★

World Premiere at Tubi London Frightfest on the 28th of August 2026 / James Alex, Manon Ens-Lapointe, Jersey Anderson, Jacob Stickles. / Dir’s: Jason Butler, Brett Butler / Tiny Cabin Pictures

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