I now know what a butterfly kiss means. Don't trust me when I say that this one is worth your trouble. My love for found footage runs long and deep and to such an unconditional degree, it's borderline irrational. Even the ones I admit are bad are always worth my trouble. This one takes an over-familiar found footage trope (the box of tapes found in the basement) spins it into another over-familiar found footage trope (the filmmaker who discovers the box of tapes editing them) and spins that into another over-familiar found footage trope (the mockumentary documenting everything) and along the way manages not only to be a sort of meta-commentary on found footage but also one of the spookier ones in the much put-upon subgenre, often unfairly maligned for its deficiencies in terms of narrative and craft which I, on the other hand, see as a new cinematic syntax. I'd go on and on arguing for the subgenre but maybe this is not the place for my fanboy gush, no matter how articulate it could potentially get. Oh, this one gets extra points for throwing resonant shade at clout chasing.
No comments:
Post a Comment