Viewed in one way, this film seems pretty good. Viewed another way, it seems pretty bad. Viewed a third way, it seems a product to which that continuum doesn't apply. So which is it? Probably the best key to assessing it is the effect it has on people: it moves them and then angers them: i.e. they're moved as long as they believe it's real, but when they learn it's fake they're angered. That seems unlike a response to an artistic experience and very like a reaction to a scam. So let us assume tentatively that the film is in essence a successful scam.
...which doesn't automatically invalidate it: The Blair Witch Project was a scam, among other things. But as a scam it had a clear purpose: to make itself seem more scary so more people would come see it. And although the scam only worked on the film's first release, and could only work once, yet some people wanted to see the film again; some still watch it and like it on DVD. So evidently it has some merit as a film, the scam aside. Here, that seems not so. The purpose of the scam is unclear, and was apparently never considered. And after it's exposed, what then? The "top-secret" commentary on the DVD reveals the answer: once the jig is up, the party's over, nobody wants to see the film again, nobody (well, almost nobody) wants anything to do with it. That wasn't what the filmmakers wanted, or expected; indeed, they don't seem to have wanted or expected anything...which may indicate they have more talent than sense.
But why should these things be so? Within the terms of Blair Witch, this film is far superior. The improvisations in it are brilliant. Those in Blair Witch sounded improvised, as actors' improvisations usually do; these sound lifelike. The people talk like people instead of actors, they joke around, they say nothing of any interest at all; in fact, like most people most of the time, they're not worth listening to. That's why they're convincing. What they're saying isn't drama, art, or even journalism, and it sounds real, so what else could it be? Since the cast--with one possible exception--achieves that effect uniformly, and most actors can't manage it at all, some of the credit must go to the director. The exception is the actor who plays the producer, who in retrospect might be seen to be tipping his hand slightly. But a lot of entertainment people talk like that; to me he sounded like the producer in Project Greenlight 1 metrosexualized.
So the filmmakers made a film on the model of Blair Witch and expected it to be taken on the same terms. Only they did it better: to do which, they had to eliminate the extra layer of art. Not good art; just art and what goes with it, whether good bad, or indifferent: self-awareness; choice; meaning. Blair Witch hoodwinked the rubes, i.e. people who are--or are thought by the industry to be--naive about art and film and How Things Work, but not those In The Know. This film hoodwinks them--even the one the filmmakers call "the Blair Witch guy." It does what the character in All That Jazz said couldn't be done: it bullsh*ts the bullsh*tters. And THEY HATE IT FOR THAT.
Its method, however, is dubious (and probably irreplicable): it achieves verisimilitude by being bad, or by simulating badness. Taken as a straight documentary, it's banal and boring and stupid. It seems to be concentrating on a dope--an all too real-seeming one--who expects some stranger to hand him money to finish his lousy film. I switched it off a quarter of the way through and would never have gone back to watch the rest if I hadn't found out it was all a sham. If I'd sat through the whole thing unenlightened, my final verdict would have been something to this effect: Here was a movie about a dummy who died for nothing; it seems to be trying to draw him as a tragic hero, but he wasn't, he was still a dummy, only now he's a dead one. Now, of course, my opinion of the movie has changed, but not totally: I still think it's an unfinished work; it's missing a point. It wasn't intended to be funny, and so it has no punchline; its technique is anti-dramatic almost by definition, and so it has no payoff.
But guess what? On the DVD the filmmakers give it these things. They do so unknowingly, again; what successes they have, they seem to stumble into by sheer blind luck; nevertheless, though their flies be unzipped, their bra straps showing, and their shoelaces untied, they pull it off. Their "top-secret" commentary (which may be the only interesting commentary ever heard on a DVD) is the payoff, the punchline, the point. It reveals how they tried to attract a distributor and a publicist and, to their great surprise, offended everybody they offered it to. So the point made is twofold: just as the letters in Les Liaisons Dangereuses reveal more about the correspondents than they know, this commentary reveals something about the commentators. Their attempted promotion of the movie was like the movie itself--a bright idea without a clue--and led them once again into territory they were unprepared for. It's like The Accidental Terrorist: a student pushes a button on his laptop and inadvertently sets off the school fire alarms; he enjoys the ensuing panic but is surprised that people are upset with him. I see this group as pretty much the same: likable but irresponsible; brilliant and dumb.
...which doesn't automatically invalidate it: The Blair Witch Project was a scam, among other things. But as a scam it had a clear purpose: to make itself seem more scary so more people would come see it. And although the scam only worked on the film's first release, and could only work once, yet some people wanted to see the film again; some still watch it and like it on DVD. So evidently it has some merit as a film, the scam aside. Here, that seems not so. The purpose of the scam is unclear, and was apparently never considered. And after it's exposed, what then? The "top-secret" commentary on the DVD reveals the answer: once the jig is up, the party's over, nobody wants to see the film again, nobody (well, almost nobody) wants anything to do with it. That wasn't what the filmmakers wanted, or expected; indeed, they don't seem to have wanted or expected anything...which may indicate they have more talent than sense.
But why should these things be so? Within the terms of Blair Witch, this film is far superior. The improvisations in it are brilliant. Those in Blair Witch sounded improvised, as actors' improvisations usually do; these sound lifelike. The people talk like people instead of actors, they joke around, they say nothing of any interest at all; in fact, like most people most of the time, they're not worth listening to. That's why they're convincing. What they're saying isn't drama, art, or even journalism, and it sounds real, so what else could it be? Since the cast--with one possible exception--achieves that effect uniformly, and most actors can't manage it at all, some of the credit must go to the director. The exception is the actor who plays the producer, who in retrospect might be seen to be tipping his hand slightly. But a lot of entertainment people talk like that; to me he sounded like the producer in Project Greenlight 1 metrosexualized.
So the filmmakers made a film on the model of Blair Witch and expected it to be taken on the same terms. Only they did it better: to do which, they had to eliminate the extra layer of art. Not good art; just art and what goes with it, whether good bad, or indifferent: self-awareness; choice; meaning. Blair Witch hoodwinked the rubes, i.e. people who are--or are thought by the industry to be--naive about art and film and How Things Work, but not those In The Know. This film hoodwinks them--even the one the filmmakers call "the Blair Witch guy." It does what the character in All That Jazz said couldn't be done: it bullsh*ts the bullsh*tters. And THEY HATE IT FOR THAT.
Its method, however, is dubious (and probably irreplicable): it achieves verisimilitude by being bad, or by simulating badness. Taken as a straight documentary, it's banal and boring and stupid. It seems to be concentrating on a dope--an all too real-seeming one--who expects some stranger to hand him money to finish his lousy film. I switched it off a quarter of the way through and would never have gone back to watch the rest if I hadn't found out it was all a sham. If I'd sat through the whole thing unenlightened, my final verdict would have been something to this effect: Here was a movie about a dummy who died for nothing; it seems to be trying to draw him as a tragic hero, but he wasn't, he was still a dummy, only now he's a dead one. Now, of course, my opinion of the movie has changed, but not totally: I still think it's an unfinished work; it's missing a point. It wasn't intended to be funny, and so it has no punchline; its technique is anti-dramatic almost by definition, and so it has no payoff.
But guess what? On the DVD the filmmakers give it these things. They do so unknowingly, again; what successes they have, they seem to stumble into by sheer blind luck; nevertheless, though their flies be unzipped, their bra straps showing, and their shoelaces untied, they pull it off. Their "top-secret" commentary (which may be the only interesting commentary ever heard on a DVD) is the payoff, the punchline, the point. It reveals how they tried to attract a distributor and a publicist and, to their great surprise, offended everybody they offered it to. So the point made is twofold: just as the letters in Les Liaisons Dangereuses reveal more about the correspondents than they know, this commentary reveals something about the commentators. Their attempted promotion of the movie was like the movie itself--a bright idea without a clue--and led them once again into territory they were unprepared for. It's like The Accidental Terrorist: a student pushes a button on his laptop and inadvertently sets off the school fire alarms; he enjoys the ensuing panic but is surprised that people are upset with him. I see this group as pretty much the same: likable but irresponsible; brilliant and dumb.
