The Blair Witch Project and the difficulty between ideal cinematic presentation and the illusion of reality
Often viewed as one of the worst sub-genres in horror filmmaking, the Found-Footage movie has struggled to gain a strong positive critical and audience reception since its relatively recent conception. Due to its cheap and easy style of production, the genre has seen a wide influx of content following its popularity boom in the late 1990s and hasn’t slowed down since. Where other filming conventions remain mostly consistent however, the increasing technological possibilities, and growing influence of other forms of media (such as YouTube and other social sites) has gradually transformed the Found-Footage film into a wide-spanning genre, with a variety of methods of presentation.
Usually, these styles of presentation, in their attempts to accurately portray a simulacrum of reality, offset the literal quality of the film, and counteract the viewer’s positivity when considering their artistic merit and entertainment value. This juxtaposed contrast is a particularly interesting dichotomy, allowing us to determine various points of contention in scholarly analysis and critical conversations of effective implementation. As a subsection of the horror genre, the ‘worse’ presentation can inspire two very different reactions from the spectator: a more visceral and frightening sense of realism, or a disappointment in the cheapness of the cinematic quality (an issue exacerbated by the literal cheaper budgets these films are often produced within). Usually, directors must choose between the two approaches (or sometimes, successfully merging them) in order to create their film, and induce the reactions from their audience that they desire.
Of course, with technological developments in both the film-production and actual media these movies attempted to recreate, the lines between cinematic and realistic began to blur. Looking to an early (and most influential) example of the genre, the handheld, VHS/35mm filmic style of The Blair Witch Project (1999), when contrasted with its camera-drone and headcam led sequel, simply titled Blair Witch (2016), the cinematic qualities are almost unrelated. The ease around bleeding the film into our own reality has grown steadily more accessible with the introduction of the internet, and methods of marketing have capitalised on this with various ARGs (Alternate Reality Games) that bring the story out of the film, adding to that sensation of reality and heightening the intrigue or terror, without taking away from the film experience alone. Utilising the growing technology and social landscape is now common, or even expected, for most modern Found-Footage movies, and, in some regards, it is making it easier to reproduce an image that remains realistic, whilst being more cinematically appealing, though, as we might identify, this has its limits. Often, as this isn’t taken into account, the discourse around the film’s quality then shifts to focus on the genre’s other superficial elements: narrative and performances, for example.
As the Horror genre tends to, the Found-Footage film can also engage in metaphorical representation of other concepts or ideas – where it begins to divert from other subgenres, is in the realism, especially surrounding metaphors of tragic events. Audience reaction and recognition is heightened when the presentation matches their prior knowledge and footage of the events the film is attempting to depict - for an obvious example, shaky, handheld footage filmed of a New York in ruins may call back to real memories of various victim and spectator footage of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Again, in this, we can see the conflict around reality against cinematic appeal arise once more – a difficulty that is mirrored in every style and subgenre of Found-Footage film: whether that be (mock)documentary; handheld, discovered footage; recorded laptop screens and redacted government documents.
Traditionally speaking, the process of filmmaking required a lot of effort, people, and money; in the modern day, in complete contrast, you can make a lower-budget movie with just your phone, a couple of crew members and a rudimentary editing software. This, of course, is a result of developing technology around smaller sized (and better quality) cameras, the portability afforded by that, and the range of platforms on which to present the finished product. The opportunity to create is closer to an equal footing than it has ever been. It is far less likely, however, that these lower-budget productions will result in a product equal in quality to that of an expensive studio-backed picture. Usually, this may present a problem towards the critical reception of the finished movie, however, in the Found-Footage genre it is almost encouraged. As Alexandra Heller-Nicholas (2014, p. 3) states, ‘the specific brand of amateur aesthetics in found footage horror is crucial to its construction of verisimilitude’, and when we compare it to the manufactured and stylistic design of other modern horror films, we often see a less efficiently shocking and effectively subjectivising film.
Through detailing the history of the genre, we can see a growing sense of technological development, as the introduction of various media forms comes into the production of regularly shot films, and a perceived need to replicate this in the Found-Footage film, with implementation of multiple cameras, different viewing and presentation methods (recorded screens), as well as a more tactile and mobile sense of filming. Since the genre is ‘constantly evolving, and the presence of technology in horror is co-constituted by the evolution of technologies in the surrounding culture’, as Adam Daniel (2020, p. 32) believes, this development would be expected, and clearly represented, as it is, within the films themselves. We can see a wild, and rather impressive implementation of this in The Deep House (2021), a Found-Footage movie that is shot almost entirely underwater, and thus, entirely modern and highly claustrophobic.
However, uniquely, Found-Footage (in its purest, handheld form) consciously creates a link between the camera and the character – this is integral to the alignment of the spectator watching a movie within the genre, as the stronger you can empathise with the (often) ridiculous or unbelievable events, the more effective the horror and fear will be. The overwhelmingly jarring and disorientating camera work that is found to be so common in films of this genre is an aesthetic staple, but also a disappointing expectation for viewers who can find the stylistic choice to be upsetting or off-putting. As these elements disappear with the introduction of more cinematic images (and new technologies), does this not begin to stray further from this unique effectiveness, and thus, remove the elements of horror and fear that come specifically from such a close-knit alignment with the protagonist and camera itself? If it is true, as Kjetil Rødje (2017, p. 206) states, that the cameras in the films, ‘take on roles as active agents’ and ‘not only operate as simple recording devices, but they become actors’, then the introduction of more cameras, and more updated technological elements would only serve to offset this suspension of disbelief – the more cinematic the image becomes, the weaker the connection to the character, and thus the less effective the empathetic horror behind it.
We must consider the impact this has upon the genre’s effectiveness and whether this reflection of our own times and increasing quality is the correct direction to go. Ignoring audience fatigue resulting from over-saturation, itself a significant element in the critical distaste of the genre, if we look at the downward critical trend the genre has seen since it’s ‘conception’ in 1999, we can better understand how these aesthetic decisions, whilst improving the visual quality of the films, only serves to render their impact weaker and remove the unique, personal horror aspect the genre held, as we grow closer to replicating regular cinematic style.
To add to this discussion, we can look at the metaphorical implications behind the genre, and the inherent power these stylistic decisions can have. When correctly implemented, they can often trigger a recollective response in the spectator that relates to real-world found-footage of tragic events and memories of disaster. Looking to the film, Cloverfield (2008), we can see a direct example of this technique – instead of attempting to exactly recreate the incidents within New York during and following the 9/11 disaster, the film looks to invoke related imagery to subtly reference the events, recalling the collective trauma felt and witnessed by New Yorkers during that tragedy. As Neil McRobert (2015, p. 146) puts it, ‘the film evokes the attacks through a combination of evocative symbols and stylistic mimicry’. The m obile-phonic, handheld design of the film here only serves to improve this connection, calling attention to the similar method of capturing footage seen on the day. Since ‘Cloverfield’s monster is emblematic of the insidious fear of fear itself that characterised the War on Terror and its global media coverage’ (Macdonald, 2017, p. 167), and a large portion of this media coverage was actual found-footage, itself an ‘artefact of the event, as much as the millions of singed papers and photos that blanketed the New York City suburbs’ (Barr, 2016, p. 53) were, the decision to use an amateur style to build on an ‘established sense of naturalism’ (Macdonald, 2017, p. 165) is clear and effective. Cloverfield (2008) is a particularly interesting example that most scholars bring attention to when discussing the genre, as it is at once, an incredibly high-budget movie, that is specifically choosing to replicate the amateur aesthetic in order to heighten the impact of its storytelling. Heller-Nicholas (2014, p. 180) identifies this, saying that, ‘Cloverfield’s overt amateur movie making aesthetics replicate the all-too familiar footage of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center’, a point echoed and applied to other films within the genre by Murphy (2008, p. 96). We can see this in [REC] (2007), which explores fears around the SARS outbreak through the antagonists in ‘live people who have been infected with a lethal strain of rabies which rapidly turns them into aggressive and extremely infectious psychotics’ (Murphy, 2008, p. 108); or perhaps Romero’s Diary of the Dead (2007), wherein ‘the echoes of the sorely inadequate Government response to Hurricane Katrina are unmistakable’ (Murphy, 2008, p. 107). Murphy goes on to state that this particular method similarly helps to create a more ‘authentically terrifying viewing experience’ by replicating the ‘style and tone of amateur video footage and of the real-life media coverage of such events’.
Finally, it is important to focus on the literal developing technologies, and the various degrees and alignments of impact this may have had on the genre and its subsequent departure from this unique style, in order to gain a whole understanding of both sides to the proposed argument. This has not had an entirely negative impact - in truth, there are many found-footage films that have benefitted from this increase in effective technologies, through a variety of variables, and the introduction of various contemporary devices and mediums can boost the relevance of each film when relating to its own specific time of production.
Let us highlight the most obvious example here. An important factor in the conception of the genre itself, and the enduring development of its presentation and popularity revolves around the internet, and the close relationship these films share with this new medium. A massive contribution to the expansive marketing and engagement surrounding The Blair Witch Project was resulting from the presence it retained on the internet – famously, the lead actors were listed "missing, presumed dead" for the year following the film’s release; an expansive website campaign preceded the premiere, complete with fake news reports and interviews around the characters yet to be seen; and on-going debates around the authenticity of the footage increased as more information and trailers were revealed (Telotte, 2001, p. 33). This marks the first in a new trend joining the release of the movies, and an often-under-examined aspect of the aesthetics of Found-Footage films, which is arguably just as vital to the success and lasting memory of the genre – the Alternate Reality Game (ARG).
Though not exclusively implemented within Found-Footage films, this method of marketing is often linked to the genre, due to the related nature of the content found in both the film and the marketing. This marketing strategy, fully utilising the growing power of the internet, new social technologies, and other forms of interaction, offers a unique way to add to the film experience and story, without detracting from the singular experience of watching the film. Reiterating that idea of verisimilitude, Jay Johnson (2018, p. 57) believes that ‘the use of everyday media and websites to perpetuate material invented for the film’s narrative blurred the lines of reality for the audience’, inviting further questioning towards the authenticity and factual basis of the film, with the same methods of ‘stylistic mimicry’ that McRobert (2015, p. 146) discussed around the films themselves. Where marketing once introduced the film as the first step in a journey of watching and interacting with the media, the ARG has allowed the Found-Footage film to position ‘the viewer as investigator and directing them back to the film as the final piece of the puzzle’, as Stephanie Janes (2015, p. 26) contests, providing a more complete experience, and most importantly, a non-detracting immersion into the film’s world, which boosts the impact of its inherent horror.
Some films extend this emphasis on the social sphere into the film’s presentation, instead of the marketing strategy – and it has been achieved to great effect through the various growing social platforms, and their film replica counterparts. This has been little explored, however, likely a result of the recency of its creation. There are arguments to be made against this falling under the Found-Footage genre, although it follows the same aesthetic, and common narrative dealings. For example, in a method originally popularised by Unfriended (2014), the ‘Screenlife’ or ‘computer-screen’ genre has blended well with the Found-Footage, again, as a result of their similar content and aesthetics – this combination excels in the film Host (2020). An ideal example of current technological and social progress correctly implemented is seen in a number of attributes: its utilisation of Zoom video-call technology; contemporary commentary on the Coronavirus pandemic is subtly executed; and integration with our own world is achieved through the methods of watching it, resulting from how it was marketed as – spectators were encouraged to watch the film through a Zoom call with their friends, thus heightening the horror experience and collective fear – as Teresa Lobos (2015) says, the intensity afforded by all elements of this specific medium makes it ‘impossible to look away’, and thus, the impact is entirely increased.
Finally, to explore an adjacent example to Found-Footage, which, much like ‘Screenlife’ films, explores the connections between narrative possibility, current technology and the modern climate surrounding these elements, the form of social horror that actively integrates its live connections could be considered an interesting development in the field. Starting as far back as The Last Broadcast (1998), a found-footage which itself pre-dates The Blair Witch Project, and marks the first feature film shot and edited on consumer-grade equipment, and encounters similar themes and narrative structure, the concept of a livestream gone rogue has persisted throughout the development, only growing more relevant as time has passed. An interesting historical experimentation in this form can be seen in the BBC One, 1992 Halloween broadcast, Ghostwatch (1992), which attempts to present a scripted, horror-filled fabrication of a live spookfest. It is rather fascinating to explore. To suggest three modern examples (sadly, of varying quality), we can look to a collection of films released within three subsequent years - Spree (2020), Dashcam (2021), and Deadstream (2022). Each narrative takes place within a livestream, with protagonists that range from wannabe-YouTubers and influencers, and discusses the extremes of contemporary fame and the current cultural repetition of rewarding famed personalities for controversial and often despicable acts with our attention as an audience.
As we have identified, the genre itself is a highly mutable form, able to consistently adapt to a variety of contemporary modes of presentation and subsequently remain socially relevant, up-to-date and, at times, horrifically effective. The genre is particularly unique in its integration with the ever-evolving and developing technological landscape, providing a freedom for filmmakers to either exploit, or actively interact with these new modes of production (the literal cameras and formats of display) and modes of presentation and distribution (whether that is literally through the social media itself, or in associated marketing campaigns). Moreover, these films are able to be created whilst remaining in a relatively cheap production budget, which is oftentimes advantageous to the audience response, as a result of the impact this has on the verisimilitude of the films and their intended horror. This perfect storm of accessible production and analytical promise means that the genre is a consistently interesting one, which is inevitably worth keeping an eye towards as our world shifts to a more technologically dependent atmosphere.
Bibliography
Written Bibliography
Alexandra Heller-Nicholas, Found Footage Horror Films: Fear and the Appearance of Reality (McFarland & Company, Incorporated Publishers: London, 2014), p. 3.
Adam Daniel, Affective Intensities and Evolving Horror Forms: From Found Footage to Virtual Reality, (Edinburgh University Press: Edinburgh, 2020), p. 32.
Rødje, K. (2017) ‘Intra-Diegetic Cameras as Cinematic Actor Assemblages in Found Footage Horror Cinema’, Film-Philosophy, Volume 21, Issue 2, pp. 206 - 222.
Bernice M. Murphy, ‘"Is this another attack?": Imagining Disaster in Cloverfield, Diary of the Dead and [Rec]’, The Irish Journal of Gothic and Horror Studies, 4 (2008), p. 96.
Neil McRobert, ‘Mimesis of Media: Found Footage Cinema and the Horror of the Real’, Gothic Studies, 17 : 2 (2015), p. 146.
J. P. Telotte, ‘The Blair Witch Project Project: Film and the Internet’, Film Quarterly, 54 : 3 (2001), p. 33.
Jay Johnson, ‘Issues with Reality: Defining and Exploring the Logics of Alternate Reality Games’ (unpublished doctoral thesis, The University of Wisconsin – Milwaukee, 2018), p. 57.
Stephanie Janes, ‘Players and Puppetmasters - Producer/Consumer Relationships in Hollywood’s Promotional Alternate Reality Games’ (unpublished doctoral thesis, Royal Holloway, University of London PhD Media Arts, 2015), p. 26.
Lobos, Teresa, ‘Screened Terror and Networked Fear: Unfriended, Horror, and the Digital Age’, Offscreen, 19 : 4 (2015).
Barr, J. (2016) The Kaiju Film: A Critical Study of Cinema's Biggest Monsters. North Carolina: McFarland & Company.
Macdonald, J. (2017) ‘Godzilla, Gorillas and Geopolitics in the Global 21st Century’ in Mustachio, C.D.G. and Barr, J. (ed.), Giant Creatures in Our World: Essays on Kaiju and American Popular Culture. California: McFarland, pp. 161 - 178.
Filmography
The Blair Witch Project, 1999. [Film]. Directed by Eduardo Sánchez and Daniel Myrick. US: Artisan Entertainment.
Blair Witch, 2016. [Film]. Directed by Adam Wingard. US: Lionsgate.
[REC], 2007. [Film]. Directed by Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza. Spain: Filmax.
Unfriended, 2014. [Film]. Directed by Levan Gabriadze. US: Universal Pictures.
Diary of the Dead, 2007. [Film]. Directed by George A. Romero. US: Third Rail Releasing.
Cloverfield, 2008. [Film]. Directed by Matt Reeves. US: Paramount Pictures.
Host, 2020. [Film]. Directed by Rob Savage. US: Vertigo Releasing.
The Deep House, 2021. [Film]. Directed by Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury. France: Apollo Films.
The Last Broadcast, 1998. [Film]. Directed by Stefan Avalos and Lance Weiler. US: Wavelength Releasing.
Spree, 2020. [Film]. Directed by Eugene Kotlyarenko. US: RLJE Films.
Dashcam, 2021. [Film]. Directed by Rob Savage. UK: Momentum Pictures.
Deadstream, 2022. [Film]. Directed by Vanessa Winter and Joseph Winter. US: Shudder.
Ghostwatch, 1992. [Film]. Directed by Lesley Manning. UK: BBC 1.
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