Personal Shopper

The most terrifying sound in 2016 wasn’t a chainsaw or a creaking floorboard; it was the sharp, synthetic buzz of an iPhone vibrating on a glass table. I remember sitting in a half-empty theater in downtown Seattle, clutching a bag of lukewarm popcorn, and watching Kristen Stewart stare at a blank iMessage bubble with more intensity than most actors give a Shakespearean monologue. I actually watched this for a second time last week on my laptop while sitting in a dentist’s waiting room, and every time the receptionist’s phone chirped, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Personal Shopper is a weird, prickly, and hauntingly beautiful movie that managed to be one of the most polarizing experiences of its decade. It’s a ghost story where the ghost might be a malevolent spirit, or it might just be a very persistent stalker with a data plan. It’s also a movie that asks: what do we do with our hands when the person we love most is gone?

The Digital Séance

Kristen Stewart plays Maureen, a high-fashion personal shopper in Paris who spends her days riding a scooter between Chanel and Cartier, buying expensive things she isn't allowed to wear. She hates her job, but she stays in the city because she’s waiting. Her twin brother, Lewis, died recently of a heart malformation they both shared. They were both mediums, and they made a pact: whoever died first would send the other a sign.

Director Olivier Assayas (who also directed Stewart in the fantastic Clouds of Sils Maria) takes a massive risk here. He spends a huge chunk of the runtime just showing us Maureen’s phone screen. In the hands of a lesser director, this would be a snooze-fest. But here, the "Unknown" texter who begins messaging Maureen becomes a voyeuristic nightmare. Kristen Stewart’s thumb deserves an Oscar for its performance during the texting scenes. She conveys a frantic, desperate hope that the person on the other end is her brother, balanced against the terrifying reality that it’s probably a creep.

A Ghost in the Machine

What makes this film feel so "now" (or at least, so 2016-onward) is how it understands our relationship with technology. We live in our phones. Our memories, our secrets, and our ghosts are all stored in the cloud. Maureen is isolated in a city of lights, yet she’s constantly connected to a digital void. It’s the ultimate contemporary drama because it recognizes that the most haunted place in the world is a private chat history.

The film’s production was as lean and focused as Maureen herself. Olivier Assayas reportedly wrote the script in just two weeks specifically for Stewart. You can feel that frantic energy in the pacing. It doesn’t follow the rules of a standard thriller. Sometimes it’s a high-fashion procedural, sometimes it’s a Gothic horror with ectoplasm-spewing spirits, and sometimes it’s a quiet study of a woman who is literally and figuratively fading away. Anders Danielsen Lie (from The Worst Person in the World) and Lars Eidinger pop up in supporting roles, but this is the Stewart show through and through.

Why It Vanished (And Why You Should Care)

Despite winning the Best Director prize at Cannes, Personal Shopper was famously booed at its press screening. Critics didn't know what to make of its genre-blending. Is it a horror? A drama? A fashion satire? Because it didn't fit into a neat box, it struggled at the box office, grossing barely over $1.3 million. The marketing tried to sell it as a traditional supernatural thriller, which was a mistake. If you go in expecting The Conjuring, you’re going to be frustrated. But if you go in expecting a stylish, existential mystery about the loneliness of the internet age, you’re in for a treat.

The cinematography by Yorick Le Saux captures a Paris that feels cold and clinical, far from the "City of Love" clichés. It feels like a city where everyone is looking past each other. The ghost effects themselves are surprisingly old-school—a bit of CG, sure, but a lot of it relies on atmosphere and the sheer, vibrating tension of Maureen’s presence. It’s essentially a 100-minute panic attack about whether your dead brother has unlimited data.

This isn't just a "movie for Kristen Stewart fans," though she is spectacular here. It’s a film for anyone who has ever felt like they were living a double life, or anyone who has ever stared at their phone waiting for a message that will never come. It’s a ghost story for the era of social media activism and digital isolation—a time when we are more connected than ever but somehow more alone. By the time the final frame hits, you won't just be looking for ghosts in the corners of the room; you'll be looking for them in your pocket.