Max Wren, the central character of an Australian film exploring modern digital alienation, lives in what is called the "ninth circle" of parasocial relationships—where people form intense emotional bonds with public figures they've never met. He isolates himself in a basement room, surrounded by screens, as he works on a documentary about Lenore, an enigmatic online influencer. The film, directed by David Ward, delves into themes like the attention economy, the objectification of women in media, and the loneliness and anger of men excluded from social norms. Ward says he feels both Max’s and Lenore’s pain, but the film, described as an uneven debut, struggles to move beyond its stage roots and fully capture the fragmented mental state of someone deeply immersed in the digital world. Lenore, whose real name is Veronica Brand, was once a beauty influencer but later shifted to more extreme forms of performance art. She once livestreamed a miscarriage, an event that was later spliced into a children's TV broadcast without her consent, forcing her into hiding. Her raw, vulnerable public displays—along with hints of a traumatic past involving an abusive father—seemed to attract a devoted following, similar to the kind of fans who support creators on platforms like OnlyFans. Max's colleague, Sam (played by Sam Macdonald), is a brash character who becomes upset when he learns he was not particularly important to Lenore. He shows up at Max's door with exclusive footage of her, disrupting Max’s carefully constructed isolation. These intrusions, along with the arrival of the police, are presented as jarring disruptions to Max’s quiet, tech-filled world. On stage, these loud, chaotic moments might have had more impact, but Ward doesn’t fully develop a cinematic style that captures the overwhelming noise of modern digital life. Instead, the film feels divided between sterile, dialogue-heavy scenes and Max’s long monologues at his array of screens, as well as preachy speeches from Lenore in a virtual world where she talks about not being owned by men. Only when Max’s mental state begins to unravel—when Lenore seems to communicate directly with him—does the film hint at a deeper, more intense emotional experience, reminiscent of the psychological horror of director David Cronenberg. This moment nearly breaks through the film’s rigid structure, but the final scene, while emotionally powerful, turns out to be anything but uplifting. Ward clearly understands the fractured, disconnected mindset of the modern digital age, but without finding the right artistic language to express it, it’s uncertain whether the average viewer, used to scrolling through content on platforms like TikTok, will have the patience to sit through the film’s final, heavy message.