Unknown Number: The High School Catfish Review

 

Ever since Nev Schulman's Catfish movie in 2010, I’ve been fascinated by the world of catfishing and the people who enjoy creating alternative lives instead of just, I don’t know, going to therapy. Netflix’s Unknown Number: High School Catfish slides right into that obsession—but this time, it’s dipped in adolescent drama and served with a side of “what in the actual hell?”

The story centers around Lauryn Licari and Owen McKenny, two middle schoolers who dated for a year—which in tween time is basically a lifetime. Things take a dark turn when both start receiving anonymous, harassing text messages. And not the “you up?” kind. These were creepy, persistent, and downright vulgar. Naturally, the suspect list grows faster than a group chat after a breakup. At one point, the documentary practically begs you to side-eye a classmate whose parent is a cop. Because of course—what’s a good mystery without a red herring in uniform?

Then comes the curveball. Spoiler alert (though if you’ve been on social media in the last five minutes, you probably already know): the culprit wasn’t a peer, but someone disturbingly close to the kids. Lauryn’s mom. Yes, Kendra, chile! In a plot twist that feels ripped from a Lifetime movie written by ChatGPT on a caffeine bender, Kendra was the one behind the texts. It’s giving Munchausen by proxy meets Mean Girls with a dash of “please get help.”

Not only did she harass her own daughter and her daughter’s boyfriend, she inserted herself into the investigation like she was auditioning for Law & Order: SVU. And the texts? Let’s just say they weren’t “concerned mom” messages. They were vulgar, manipulative, and wildly inappropriate for minors. Honestly, if someone sent those to me, I’d be dialing 9 to the 1 to the 1 while clutching my pearls and my Wi-Fi password.

Now, why did she do it? The documentary tiptoes around that part like it’s afraid to say the quiet part out loud. My theory? Kendra had a twisted obsession with Owen and wanted to live in her daughter's light. But instead of unpacking that, the filmmakers just kind of...move on. Like, “Anyway, she went to jail.” Cool, cool, but maybe let’s not gloss over the part where a grown arse woman was emotionally terrorizing children?

In the end, Kendra served time and has supervised release until 2026. Which is something, I guess. But for the level of psychological damage she inflicted, it feels like a slap on the wrist with a glittery ruler. This documentary is wild, unsettling, and leaves you wondering how many other Kendras are lurking behind PTA meetings and Pinterest boards. I highly recommend this documentary. This doc gets 4 out of 5 acorns.