Directed by Gillian Wallace Horvat
While I haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, I’m going to go out on a limb and guess there may be a lot of people who wouldn’t find this picture very funny. Maybe those folks would misconstrue the satirical nature of the meta commentary, remarked upon with such satisfaction by those living and working within its filmmaking milieu. It’s also probable that some people just don’t find murder to have much comedic value. If your taste runs toward extremely dark humor, however, and you’ve ever spent any time dallying with the art world, this should strike the correct nerve. A mockumentary of sorts that translates its anger into absurdities, the narrative follows Horvat as she embarks on a very special personal project. At first, her tentativeness and some awkward situations she establishes may evoke thoughts of Creep, but eventually this production abandons what little restraint it has demonstrated, perhaps to emphasize the lunacy lurking in its heart. Does it lose a bit of verisimilitude with this shift? Possibly, but there’s too much fun to be had for that to matter much.
I’ve used this exact phrase for years in attempts at arch commentary.
It’s one of the most enjoyable pictures I’ve seen since I started this blög, which as of this post has 335 reviews. (There are an additional 117 or so horror flix that have yet to be honored here, too.)
The filmmaker meets with some production bros twice along the way, and for anyone oblivious to her thesis, these scenes hammer it home. (The second session includes an aptly revealing indictment.) The various references to her
omnipresent cameras are also amply rewarding.