Introduction
Apophenia – the erroneous perception of patterns or correlations in random or unconnected phenomena, events, and data. When it comes to horror, the most unsettling stories are often the ones that feel like they could actually happen. That’s exactly what makes Appofeniacs – the debut feature from Chris Marrs Piliero – so deeply disturbing. It’s not because of ghosts or monsters, but because of how chillingly plausible it is.
Appopeniacs, however, is not a horror film in the traditional sense. Appofeniacs is horrifying in its implications. It taps into a modern fear: the ease with which digital tools can be weaponized, especially when power lands in the wrong hands.

Synopsis
One of those hands belongs to Duke (Aaron Holliday), a volatile, angry man who looks like he’s been yanked out of the 1990s and styled as Kurt Cobain for Halloween. Duke is the thread that connects the film’s stories. He’s a petty and vengeful person who lashes out over the smallest of provocations, using deep fake-like videos as tools of destruction.
In the first vignette, we meet Texas Tim, an Uber driver who sticks around after a ride to hang out with his final passenger of the night, Poppy (Simran Jehani). Their interactions are shallow, self-serving, and emotionally stunted, offering a scathing commentary on generational narcissism. When a fake video surfaces, their reactions are less about truth or justice and more about optics and self-preservation.
The second vignette centers on Jazzy, who draws Duke’s ire after defending baristas at a coffee shop. Another fake video is created, and her life quickly begins to unravel. The police offer little help, emphasizing how ill-equipped institutions are to handle this kind of tech-fueled threat.
Appofeniacs poses a terrifying “what if” scenario. What if an app could take your photo, sample your voice, and then prompt and generate a hyper-realistic video of you doing or saying things you never did? Then post it online. In the wrong hands, this kind of technology isn’t just creepy, it’s downright dangerous.
Parallel to her story is Cinto Binto (Sean Gunn), a creator of hyper-realistic cosplay equipment who finds himself caught in Duke’s destructive orbit. Gunn, often relegated to smaller comic-book roles, shines here with a more substantial part, lending a quirky, grounded presence to a film full of chaotic energy.
Discussion
Piliero crafts this cautionary tale in a stylized, Tarantino-esque format, using a non-linear structure and interconnected vignettes. I caught the film at Fantastic Fest 2025, where its bold tone and structure reminded me of Too Late, another memorable entry from a previous year.
Piliero’s direction is sharp, especially for a debut. The dialogue is snappy, and the performances are strong. The camera work, while primarily focused on dialogue scenes, stays engaging. A standout moment comes in the second vignette’s action sequence, which creatively uses cosplay gear in a way that’s both unexpected and thrilling.

What truly stands out is how Appofeniacs treats its technology. This isn’t science fiction; it’s practically present-day. The visceral, immediate reactions characters have to fabricated videos speak to how fragile the distinction between reputation and reality has become in the digital age.
Conclusion
In the end, Appofeniacs feels like a modern-day Grimm fairy tale, a dark fable warning us about the consequences of our own inventions. It’s not just a film about technology gone wrong; it’s a reflection of how easily we can be manipulated when we prioritize appearances over truth and vengeance over empathy. It was one of my favorite films at Fantastic Fest: original, unsettling, and uncomfortably relevant.
