THE OUTWATERS shows that found footage is the haiku of horror
Written and directed by Robbie Banfitch
Starring Robbie Banfitch, Angela Basolis, Scott Schamell, Michelle May
Unrated
Runtime: 1 hour, 40 minutes
Shown at this year’s Philadelphia Unnamed Film Festival
by Allison Yakulis & Hunter Bush, Staff Writer
Hunter Bush: Filmmakers are always fighting against limitations. Sometimes it’s an idea that can’t be realized, sometimes it’s having a very slim budget, sometimes it’s just scheduling constraints. Regardless, they’re all roadblocks between a filmmaker and their ideal finished project. Creative filmmakers find ways to not just work around their limitations, but to work with them; use these hurdles to their advantage.
Found footage, as a genre, works within limitations. You don’t need professional gear, actors, or cinematography. The almost user-generated nature of the conceit also allows for narrative gaps that can help with pacing and budget. Even still, within the sub genre of found footage, some films are more inventive or innovative than others. With The Outwaters, writer/director/star Robbie Banfitch may have used the limitations of a young filmmaker more creatively than any other example I can call to mind.
Allison Yakulis: To me, found footage is a genre fraught with mediocre efforts. It has enough structure to delineate it as its own genre, is cheap enough that anyone with access to any sort of camera can film in this style, and when actually done well is considered a triumph in monetizing art as it is, again, cheap and accessible to produce. Of course, when it’s done poorly there’s a lot of shaky camera, often in the dark, to hide seams and give the appearance of a novice photographer, and in some of the most egregious instances it breaks the “rules” and depicts sequences that no camera handheld or otherwise could’ve picked up. Found footage is the haiku of horror filmmaking: beautiful in its simplicity when well-executed, but too frequently lackluster or incoherent due in large part to the perception that anybody can do it.
Overall I enjoyed The Outwaters. In fact, I would argue it’s in the top of its genre, on par with films like The Blair Witch Project (1999), Cloverfield (2008), and Host (2020). When this film hits, it hits hard and cuts deep. Is it a perfect film? No, it’s laggy in parts of the third act with a few nighttime sequences that are too dark and chaotic to glean a meaningful understanding of what is actually going on. In these moments it started to lose me as a viewer. Banfitch carefully arranges his setting, characters, goals, and scope, but when given a slow burn setup I expect a splashy, manic ending. An impartial editing for pace would give the drop-at-the-end-of-the-rollercoaster feeling, rather than the emotional whiplash I felt.
There are moments in this movie that are so arresting, so wickedly gleeful that it’s going to stick with me for years, I can feel it already.
HB: The basic premise of The Outwaters, just so that we’re all on the same page, is that four friends go into the Mojave desert to film a music video: aspiring director Robbie (Banfitch), his brother Scott (Scott Schamell) who will function as an assistant, hair & makeup stylist Ange (Angela Basolis), and Michelle (Michelle May) the video’s star. Michelle is a singer, and the quartet’s plan is to just film a bunch of beautiful footage of a glamorous looking Michelle in the natural splendor of the Mojave.
Low budget found footage can get a little repetitive, right? There’s usually only a few locations, because they’re shooting on the cheap. Outwaters almost suffers from this but, for my mileage, every time we repeated a gag or location, Banfitch at least tried to make it feel different. The flick is divided up into three memory cards recovered after the film’s events, and things build in a very by-the-book manner. The first card is all preliminaries; getting to know the characters and how they interact. Card two is getting to the desert, filming a music video, and some spookiness that’s light enough to be laughed off the next day. Card three is not just the most concentrated supernatural madness, but it keeps changing; recontextualizing what I thought was going on. To be clear, what I mean is not just what my guesses were for what the movie was, but actually changing what I thought things I had already seen meant.
Early on, having only seen the trailer (which to be fair is mostly darkness, blood and yelling), after the characters find a fire ax stuck into the crest of a low hill, I figured that I was settling in for a The Hills Have Eyes type survival horror. That was a guess and it was wrong. That’s not what I’m talking about. The reliance on darkness (full dark, no stars; absolute blackness) means your mind’s eye is taking fragments of shapes glimpsed in a flashlight beam and trying to use the sonic information being presented (footfalls, scraping across the desert floor, yelling, panting, *noises*, etc) to form an image of what might be happening. Then something else would happen that would change all those mental images. This third act basically functions as that parable of the blind men and the elephant, which I think is fascinating. I won’t go into specifics I guess because The Outwaters should be experienced with the least foreknowledge possible.
AY: Hunter had also mentioned in our discussions that the conceit of filming a music video allows for more artistic flairs than many other found footage-type films. When you make one of your characters a filmmaker or cinematographer, that can be a really smart move to allow some nice, attractive, old-school camera use to establish setting and dole out some eye-candy before things get weird and shaky. He noticed it, and yes, I really dug that too. It not only fleshes out a character but it gives these early sequences an excuse to be fun and beautiful and light and arresting, improving the overall visual quality of the film and providing a nice counterpoint to the darkness and gore in the latter half.
Tropes or pitfalls, you decide. It’s these very things that take me out of other found footage films that The Outwaters generally executes or subverts pretty well. It makes a lot of smart choices, selecting a beautiful location that photographs excellently and feels remote, going for practical effects and sharp editing, often using suggestion and indirect shooting to let your imagination do the heavy lifting.
How do you feel about found footage as a genre? Do you prefer it steeped in realism? A way to tell a story creatively and within a rigid framework? Or do you find it a difficult style to work within/enjoy as a viewer?
HB: What Allison said about Found Footage being the Haiku of Horror Filmmaking is absolutely spot-on. With The Outwaters, if you get too hung up on the narrative you’d be missing the point. Robbie Banfitch has crafted something that seems very simple, but he’s gotten every ounce of impact from it. What it might lack for you in traditional logic it more than makes up for as a masterwork of form. It truly shows that with enough creativity and sheer will, you can manage fantastic things even when working within constraints.
AY: I think Hunter and I both recommend this movie and I agree that it should be viewed without knowing specifics - it is at its best and most fun when it blindsides you. I think where our feelings diverge is in this third act. I was anticipating similar clarity as in earlier sequences and felt restless when presented with lots of sound and little picture (the lagginess I mentioned earlier) - I didn’t have enough suggestion as to what was going on so these parts started to lose me rather than sharpen my nerves. Yet they would be interspersed with enough weirdness or clear daylight views or, yes, references to earlier locations or events that I could reorient myself into what was still a very surreal “distemporal” narrative; in fact, it really stuck the landing for me and I walked out happy at the end. In summation I think our feelings differ as to whether The Outwaters is a credit to, or the exception in, its horror subgenre.