Review: Man Finds Tape

Directors:  Paul Gandersman, Peter S. Hall

Stars:  Kelsey Pribilski, John Gholson, William Magnuson

In the latter part of last year Chris Stuckmann’s Shelby Oaks sorta promised a renaissance for found footage horror, but quickly descended into extraordinarily derivative hokum once the initial conceit was swiftly abandoned. Suspicions arise, therefore, at another found footage indie appearing on a wave of mid-level buzz. But Paul Gandersman and Peter S. Hall’s collaborative feature debut manages to eschew such concerns, and even makes a case that there’s life in the subgenre yet. It’s fitting, perhaps, that Man Finds Tape is a film with two helmsmen, as it is quite pointedly a film of two halves.

Boasting head-turning producers and EPs like Justin Benson, Aaron Moorhead and (checks notes) Kristen Bell, Man Finds Tape behaves similarly to any number of true-crime streaming docs; a mockumentary sagely narrated by filmmaker and central figure Lynn Page (Kelsey Pribilski) as she purports a paranormal revelation via a classic rabbit-hole investigative structure. Thus Man Finds Tape constructs itself from a variety of media; Zoom calls, CCTV, vlogs and public access television.

In the style of such subgenre classics as Lake Mungo and The Last Broadcast, Man Finds Tape is most successful at its cagiest, playing hold cards close to the chest and teasing out information piecemeal. Lynn is the daughter of a small-time Texan family whose trade has long been visual media; their Page Films production company a trusted brand in the tight-knit town of Larkin. Lynn’s investigation centres on her brother Lucas (William Magnuson), who achieves a level of viral notoriety when he shares footage of himself finding a mysterious old camcorder cassette with his name on. The cassette appears to show a shadowy figure entering Lucas’ bedroom as a child. Is it a video of someone putting something in Lucas’ mouth, or taking something out? Either way, Lucas has no memory of the event, and his discovery captures the imaginations of a fevered following.

Lucas isn’t the only figure in the story with a faithful audience. Local preacher and broadcaster Reverend Endercott Carr (John Gholson) carries a lot of influence over the townsfolk, and Lucas is quick to draw conclusions that suggest the preacher’s involvement in his murky videotape. But there are other mysteries to contend with. What is causing a spate of mass blackouts, one of which ended in an inadvertent hit’n’run? Who is the unknown Stranger (Brian Villalobos) who is seemingly unaffected? And what is he carrying in his hefty satchel? Man Finds Tape cannily requests our curiosity on a number of fronts, promising some smartly intersecting revelations.

These come, as promised, but they tip the film into another realm altogether, as the underplayed verisimilitude gives way to some gloopy, slithering practical and digital effects work. Man Finds Tape continues to unfurl its tendrils, revealing something altogether schlockier than anticipated. B-movie credentials that intersect with true genre classics like Village of the Damned or Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

Thanks to the breadth of access available to Lynn and Lucas through the family business, both of them come to feel tricky. Narrators as unreliable as the bigfoot footage and Loch Ness monster snapshots that Lynn uses to frame their story in a continuum of tabloid supernatural claims. Trust relies on performance, and on that front the movie scores highly. Like the best of found footage, it rests itself on the shoulders of unknowns to sell the supposed reality, though as the circle of interviewees widens, credibility can falter. The trade off is this broader scope also allows Larkin’s wider sense of entwined community to strengthen.

This part of the film may prove a sticking point for some; the pivot at which Gandersman and Hall ‘lose’ a portion of their audience. But I was left thinking about David Cronenberg’s early films. Not particularly because of the body horror (though that’s certainly a connection), but rather how the Canadian master would frequently ask audiences to buy into something quite far fetched, but with a steely resolve that carried us through. Think the vampiric armpit of Rabid, for instance. As a concept it’s ludicrous, but thanks to the director’s unblinking confidence in it, the film still holds up as a genre classic (arguably even more-so in the wake of COVID).

The same is true of Man Finds Tape so long as you enter into the contract Gandersman and Hall are presenting. Go with them and you’ll be taken on quite a wild ride, one that shows ambitions far beyond the relatively small-scale curiosities they use as bait to reel us in. At its end, Man Finds Tape even sidles up to the cosmic horror of Jeff VanderMeer’s Annihilation (adapted remarkably for the screen by Alex Garland), borrowing one of the book’s most striking visual ideas, or even Japanese graphic novel favourite Junji Ito (there’s a preoccupation with spirals here that he’d rather appreciate).

And, as with all horror cinema worth it’s salt, there are contemporaneous concerns from our banal, everyday world of nonstop horrors. From toxic fan culture and online extremism to issues of consent, groupthink, indoctrination and the power-hungry cult of celebrity that makes saints out of abusive white men. Man Finds Tape becomes a digitally scrambled feedback loop of America’s waking nightmares. It may become a little gooey, a little silly, but it picks at pivotal concerns.

If you’ve bemoaned the over-familiarity of the scares put forward over the past year by a number of breakout horror efforts (so many crones…), Man Finds Tape craftily provides a more creative set of curiosities to test yourselves with. Trypophobia sufferers, however, need not apply.