Everybody hates found footage films right now, and with good reason - there have been a slew of unimaginative jump-scare fests released since the success of Paranormal Activity that have caused the genre to be associated in most people’s minds with low-effort scripts and filmmaking that relies on loud-quiet-loud dynamics to build tension, rather than actual atmosphere. These films (the VHS franchise being the worst offenders) are the equivalent of fast food, as opposed to a good home-made meal. Just as McDonalds et al load their food with sugar and salt as a substitute for real flavour, films like the Insidious franchise create stress in the audience through sudden dramatic shifts in sound, and call it horror. If you came out of a film with your nerves shredded from dozens of jump “scares” then the film wasn’t scary, it was surprising.
You could be forgiven, then, for thinking that the sub-genre of found-footage horror was dead, and that nothing of value could come out of it. It’s just a played-out gimmick like 3D. But for the discerning viewer, there are a number of fantastic found-footage films out there, albeit buried under a mountain of crap - Sturgeon’s law applies here as everywhere else. In this blog post, I’ll be talking about my favourite found-footage film, and probably one of my favourite films full stop, 2014’s Creep.
Mark Duplass and Patrick Brice embody the term “filmmaker” to an extent rarely seen in this most collaborative of art forms. Brice directs the film; he and Duplass play the only two characters (save for a woman whose voice we hear on the phone at one point); due to the found-footage nature of the film, they do all the camerawork between them; and they wrote the script, which is based on a short story that they also wrote. The only other people involved in the film are Eric Andrew Kuhn (soundtrack) and Christopher Donlon (editing), and I doubt that there is a single prop in this film that cost more than thirty dollars - Creep is DIY to the fucking bones.
The plot goes like this: a freelance cameraman (Brice) gets offered a job by a strange recluse who lives out in the woods. The man (Duplass) explains that he has terminal cancer, and he wants to film a video for his unborn son whom he likely will not live to see. Duplass is incredibly creepy, and eventually Brice finds out that he was lying about the cancer - for this and other reasons, he leaves. Duplass then starts stalking him, and I’ll leave it at that. The film really does convey the terror of being stalked in a way that nothing else I’ve seen does, to the point that the middle part of it is reminiscent of a haunted house film. It has that same feeling of being trapped in a place that should feel safe, but whose sanctity has been violated in some way, so that even in your own bed you’re afraid of what might be watching you.
There are jump scares in this film, but not many, and those that there are are earned in a way that they never are with the average Blumhouse feature. What really makes the film so disturbing is Duplass’ performance as the titular creep. He’s not just, creepy, he’s practised - you get the sense that he’s done all this before, and he’ll do it again, and there’s nothing you can do about it because he’s better at this than you are.
There’s no wider point I’m making here - this is just a short essay about a film that I love, and that I want to promote. So give it a look - at only 77min, it’s hardly a big time investment, and even if you hate the end as much as I did the film as a whole will still make you double-check your locks before you go to bed tonight. Just avoid the sequel.
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