While #Blue_Whale, screening at Fantasia, at times reflects the power and influence of the online world, it ultimately opts for popcorn horror over psychological terror.
On 22 November 2015, a teenage girl from south-east Russia posted one last selfie online before taking her own life. Her tragic suicide soon became the subject of comment and analysis in online blogs. In these blogs and chat rooms, many teenagers began weaving gossip, opinions, and stories into a toxic tapestry of fact and fiction, as reality was kept at bay, stories were embellished, and new realities were built. A few weeks later, a 12-year-old Russian girl would also take her life on Christmas Day, followed by another teenager living in the same city.
News media quickly sought to establish links between these tragedies, and it wasn’t long before all three girls were found to have accessed the same online forums and groups. These groups mentioned the ‘blue whale’, while parents allegedly found pictures of blue whales on the girls’ laptops. Was this blue whale a clue to the reasons for the girls’ death? And did the blue whale image harbour a deadly secret?
In May 2016, theories previously held on internet blogs were publicly exposed when investigative journalist Galina Mursalieva published an article in Novaya Gazeta. The Gazeta introduced the world to a new idea: it spoke of online killers targeting children in sadistic self-harm games. Their vicious games ensnared vulnerable kids through tasks that eventually led to self-harm and suicide. But the Gazeta went even further, reporting that these games involving the blue whale hashtag could have led to over 130 deaths among young people worldwide.
Soon after, the world started talking about the deadly ‘Blue Whale Game‘, with each conversation based on talk of paedophilia and online predators. The panic would only further increase following the suicide of a 16-year-old girl in the United States and several more tragic deaths worldwide. However, much of this panic and fear was rooted in hearsay, with adults keen to find a stereotypical online predator. But most of the message boards, chatrooms, and blogs linked to the suicides were led by kids.
READ MORE: DON’T CLICK
So did the ‘Blue Whale Game’ ever really exist? Or was it an urban legend born of flawed investigative journalism? We may never know the exact truth, but the concept of the ‘Blue Whale Game’ clearly developed a life of its own across many online communities, ultimately becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy as the game found a voice online. Here, the devastating deaths of those teenagers were linked to the ‘game’ and forever misunderstood and misrepresented as society looked for easy answers.
Given the social and psychological complexity above, here’s a question: how do you bring the blue whale story to the screen? Do you opt for a Scream-inspired popcorn horror? Or do you delve into social psychology and online adolescent mental health? Russian director Anna Zaytseva tries to balance both, but does it work?
To answer this question, let us start by exploring the popcorn horror at the heart of #Blue_Whale. Produced by Timur Bekmambetov (Searching and Unfriended), #Blue_Whale is rooted in a tried-and-tested screen time format. Like many of its predecessors, it has no denying its power as we enter a tangled web of messages, photos, texts, and social media posts with each click and conversation, further expanding the game’s horror as we dive into the darkness of modern tech. But an uncomfortable absence of social discussion also plays a role.
READ MORE: FOLLOWERS
Following the sudden suicide of her younger sister, Dana (Anna Potebnya) searches for answers on her sister’s computer. But what Dana finds shakes her to her core; her younger sister was part of a deadly online game called #Blue_Whale. Dana is determined to hunt down those responsible, joining the game despite its dangers. But as she takes on the deadly challenges, she meets a fellow player who seems to support her hunt for the truth. Together, they investigate as the line between hunter and prey threatens Dana’s family, her life, and her newfound love. As a teen slasher, #Blue_Whale excels, its nerve-shredding tension creating a rabbit hole of no escape. But #Blue_Whale also has a more profound responsibility, one held within the story it aims to reflect, and here it ultimately fails.
READ MORE: THE RIGHTEOUS
The blue whale phenomenon highlighted the hidden, secretive worlds young people access online and the power these can hold over them. These worlds are often curated and controlled by other young people who merge fantasy, fiction and reality into a toxic virtual concoction, playing with the darkest teenage emotions and feelings. For many teenagers, these hidden online worlds are no more than a passing interest, an act of curiosity as they explore the tech world around them; however, for others, these worlds become dangerous support structures.
#Blue_Whale explores this as the game is uncovered. It also tries to unravel the social media world young people now live in, with their friendships, relationships, likes, and dislikes at risk of broader public consumption. While #Blue_Whale at times reflects the power and influence of the online world, it ultimately opts for popcorn horror over psychology. As a result, #Blue_Whale leaves a somewhat sour taste, with a narrative that offers limited social commentary.
Follow Us