
Followers, Fame, and Fractured Minds
MOVIE REVIEW
Iconic
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Genre: Horror, Thriller
Year Released: 2025
Runtime: 1h 30m
Director(s): Matthew Freiheit
Writer(s): Matthew Freiheit
Cast: Emma Jade, Alyssa Anthony, Noor Dabash, Roxette Arisa, Dylan Bonansinga, Cherish Waters, Blake Eiermann, Davi Stefond, Frankie Tanimal, Tom DeSanto, Chris Boudreaux
Where to Watch: releasing July 15, 2025
RAVING REVIEW: Something is mesmerizing about ICONIC—a dark, stylish plunge into the psychosis of modern-day influencer culture that lingers longer than you’d expect (I still keep thinking about it.) Director Matthew Freiheit’s debut feature walks the line between satire and psychological horror. The film thrives on the boldness of its vision and the sheer commitment of its lead, Emma Jade, who plays the truly iconic Rose.
Jade plays the kind of influencer whose brand is so perfectly curated it teeters on caricature. Yet, she imbues the role with such sincerity and emotional authenticity that her fall feels less like a cautionary tale and more like a genuine tragedy. Her performance anchors the film with an unpredictable magnetism—she’s vulnerable, volatile, and impossible to look away from. The chaos swirling around her never overshadows the fact that we’re watching a woman lose her grip on reality in real time. It’s not just “good for an indie”—it’s a genuinely memorable turn, one that might very well launch her as a name to remember.
The film’s real hook lies in its fusion of tone and setting. Freiheit’s vision of downtown Los Angeles is more than just a backdrop—it’s an ecosystem. The grime, the contradictions, and the proximity between luxury and suffering—all of this informs the protagonist’s unraveling. The movie doesn’t just show a fall from grace; it digs into why the fall was inevitable in a world where online validation is currency and reality is filtered through layers of branding, trauma, and self-delusion.
What starts as a caustic look at internet celebrity quickly mutates into something more unhinged. Stalkers, scandals, and self-sabotage converge, not in a glossy thriller format, but through the distorted lens of mental collapse. ICONIC weaponizes aesthetic—every frame feels like it’s posing for social media until it all starts rotting at the edges. From glitter to grunge, the descent is as visually striking as it is emotionally charged.
There’s a specific kind of tension this film captures that many “influencer horror” stories miss (I’m not going to name names, but in comparison, this film is everything you could hope for.) It’s not just the fear of being canceled or the anxiety of public scrutiny—it’s the quiet, gnawing question of whether the character ever had anything real to begin with. ICONIC flirts with that idea repeatedly, and while it never fully hands you the answer, the ambiguity is part of the allure.
Freiheit's multifaceted role in the production, as writer, director, co-editor, and cinematographer, is impressive, especially considering the scale and ambition of the story. The film’s indie bones are visible but never distracting. The resourcefulness becomes part of its charm—this is a story about excess made on a shoestring, and that tension creates its energy. Unlike many films that merely poke fun at social media absurdity, ICONIC has something meaningful to say about it. It’s not simply mocking a shallow lifestyle—it’s exploring how hollow the entire system is, and how quickly someone can be devoured by it.
The supporting cast—particularly Alyssa Anthony’s Lily and Noor Dabash as another influencer—adds texture to this ultra-competitive lived-in world, portraying both enablers and victims of the industry machine. Some of the ensemble fall into archetypes, but the story isn’t really about them. It’s about the downward spiral of a woman who thought fame was freedom, only to find herself trapped in an algorithm she can’t control.
If there’s one critique that deserves a spotlight, it’s that the third act leans a little too hard into shock for shock’s sake. The violence, while narratively motivated, threatens to overwhelm the emotional weight the film had been building. There’s a difference between disturbing and artistic, and ICONIC occasionally blurs that line; it doesn’t seem to know exactly what it wants to be. That said, the finale leaves a mark—and not just because of its brutality, but because it refuses to give the audience the neat closure they might expect, although that final scene will leave your jaw on the floor.
ICONIC blends social commentary, psychological descent, and chaos into something that feels risky, sometimes messy, but never dull. In a digital age overflowing with content that’s disposable by design, this one lingers. It’s rare for a film about surface-level fame to have this much depth. ICONIC proves that there’s still room for indie cinema to say something about the world we live in—and to look damn good while doing it.
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[photo courtesy of JINGA FILMS, GOOD TRIP | BAD TRIP, RESPECT THE FUNK]
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