Reviews provided by RottenTomatoes
Shades of gray? Moral ambiguity? Who needs 'em. Obsessed traffics in catharsis--we aren't here to learn about the human condition, we just want to watch Beyonce tromp a tramp.
At the Movies:
Elba and Larter are actually pretty good. Beyonce, through, strikes one note throughout.
As far as the crazy-stalker-chick genre goes, Obsessed isn't horrible. It's just intensely simple-minded.
This biracial entry in the psycho-bitch stalker sweepstakes is inept and stupid but not without its base pleasures.
Obsessed makes an inadvertent argument for the monastery.
Obsessed dutifully revises the 'blank from hell' genre which gave the world ridiculous, misogynist thrillers in the mid-1980s and early 1990s.
Los Angeles Times:
Obsessed, is short on dimension and subtlety, but it turns into a mess believable enough to keep us invested.
It's doubtful that Obsessed will stick in the popular imagination for more than two weeks, because the movie is borderline ludicrous, and it jams its characters into rigid slots.
Whoever thought remaking Fatal Attraction as a PG-13 thriller was a good idea earns much of the blame for this laughably arch dud.
One doesn't expect a movie of this type to be plausible, but this one stretches the plausibility factor past the snapping point to the unintentional-laughter point.
I'd call this stenchcloud 'Fatal Attraction meets The Temp,' but that would insult those movies.
Obsessed takes far too long to get cooking, and it works so hard at not being exploitation that it loses sight of its reasons for existing in the first place.
Globe and Mail:
Obsessed is a safe, dull morality play. The most that can be said on its behalf is that, unlike Fatal Attraction, no bunnies were boiled in the picture.
If the producers had done their work properly on Obsessed, I would not now be wishing I could reclaim the two hours I wasted on this tepid, sexless, thrill-free melodrama.
Great-looking actors, glossy locations and a knock-down, drag-out girlfight still don't make Obsessed anything more than a predictable and tawdry Fatal Attraction-style guilty pleasure.
Spends much time spinning its wheels and making auds practically beg for an explanation to all the madness and obsession.