Strawstalker

The horror film Strawstalker follows a couple of Internet streamers, writer/director/star Henry (a fun, spiky George Henry Horton)  and his girlfriend Haley (the warm and poised Branika Scott) as they prepare the celebration for their landmark of 500,000 online followers in a new home in the mysterious Los Angeles town of Oak Bridge, in ‘The Valley’ 

The two are a couple of facile slaves to their online selves, but they do appear to be genuinely into each other, and their life looks gilded. Both leads do well to come across as authentic. We are introduced to them by another streamer, Kurt (Vincent Ranola), aka ‘finance-flirt ’, as he picks through footage from their channel in a reaction video of his own. 

The moment Henry and Haley get to the apartment, things seem off. The spooky next-door neighbor just watches them mutely from yards away as they enter, not responding to their greetings. And then they find a manky, nasty-looking scarecrow wedged into the hedge in their back garden.

At first they make fun of this mannequin, but before long it seems someone is moving it around whenever they’re not looking. Despite this, they decide to throw a big party for their followers.

The mechanism used here, that of a streamer reacting to another’s stream, is pretty much a solid gold framing device for this type of film. It is a novel and relevant refresh of the found footage horror genre which should help the dramatic interpretation.

Haley and Henry cautiously search their new home as unsettling events escalate in Strawstalker.

“This thrown-together mess has more kinship with Warhol than studio pap.”

But that device is a bridge too far for this tiny production.  The near-constant wall of group chat on screen is distracting and badly synchronized with the action at times. Instead of adding humor and credibility, it came across as an obligation the filmmakers got tired of. Soon it gave me a headache.

I guess there is a fine line between a handheld film having terrifying negative space and bad composition, and this is firmly in the latter camp. The camera work (credited to the two stars and the cinematographer Derek Matarangas) endlessly left vital info out. Then I saw a cast member sitting clearly in shot, unless he was supposed to be a scary neighbor just sitting in their garden?

Speaking of things that are left in,  Horton’s a handsome chap but did we need two scenes showcasing his bare a*s? Frustratingly, the first time it’s gratuitous and not fun, and the second time it IS funny, but you’re kind of tired of it? It’s a fine a*s. 

Speaking of a***s, found footage movies are a bit of a cursed chalice, deliciously cheap to film but mystifying as to why they’re busy filming while cacking themselves? It’s a hurdle that Cloverfield, king’s horses and all still failed.

So it is completely understandable how the presentation here came undone; just too many spinning plates and not enough redos. And I was pretty scared for the first half. There’s a  low-level sense of dread and some effective jumps. Although this depended occasionally on the effective soundtrack by Matthew James.

Before long, the narrative goes mad. Finance flirt just disappears, and the story and its action really begin to struggle in the second half. Soon the film wanders about as far away from the lean brilliance of The Blair Witch Project as it is possible to get.

Horton gets cracking well here. There is plenty of talent and energy, and the film has good ideas and the rights beats. Watching it feels like watching itself as it’s own making of film, you do get a sense of breakneck collaboration here that’s pretty wild. It has more the substance of an event or ‘happening’ than a final product. Either way, this thrown-together mess has more kinship with Warhol than studio pap and is more unfinished than badly conceived. I’m still giving it a 4, though.