CATFISH
Directed by Ariel Schulman & Henry Joost
Produced by Andrew Jarecki, Marc Smerling, Joost & Ariel Schulman
Released by Rogue
USA. 86 min. Rated PG-13
 

I’ll promise not to tell you the ending if you promise to go see it for yourself—so we can actually discuss it. This is a movie with a twist, but what’s even more surprising is when it comes, the film changes gears completely. Employing a viral marketing campaign and a limited release schedule modeled on last year’s Paranormal Activity, this startling documentary thriller by young filmmakers Ariel Schulman and Henry Joost, which stars Schulman’s 24-year-old brother Nev, is unlike any recent shock-genre offering. There’s no doubt that it’s truly surprising, but it’s also quite a mature film in its own right.

Ariel and Henry begin to document little brother Nev’s burgeoning Facebook correspondence with a Michigan woman and her daughters. Eight-year-old Abby, on seeing one of Nev’s published photos, paints a watercolor version and sends it to Nev in Manhattan. They begin a cute relationship, and, electronically, Nev becomes more and more involved with the family. It turns out Abby has an older sister, 19-year-old Megan, and through the capabilities of the most widely used social interface on the planet, the twentysomething falls head over heels for her.

These savvy filmmakers, along with editor and co-producer Zac Stuart-Pontier, fully embrace the electronic aesthetic. With the technical ease characteristic of a generation raised on the instant message, they give us a story that exists in both the ultra-reality of the flip cam and the murky insecurity of the Web. When Nev’s story deepens, and we lose trust in what this novel technology actually tells us about each other as people, we find ourselves clinging instead to the truth of video. Without revealing too much, because the film plays so well if the audience has no idea what to expect, the boys cook up a harebrained scheme involving hidden cameras and wireless microphones. This fantastic sequence, hilarious and revelatory in one breath, makes us even more conscious that we are at the mercy of the footage. “Don’t miss this part,” we almost speak out loud to Henry behind the camera.

When the theme shifts, it feels monumental, larger even than the filmmaking. Nev may have great charisma, the editing may have been spot-on, and the iconic Mark Mothersbaugh may have composed the score, but it’s the stranger than fiction story that really elevates Catfish. The filmmakers’ presence of mind allowed them to go along for the ride. One is reminded not only of the truth, but also of the ease of video. Crazy stories have always existed, and perhaps we’ve reached the point in this culture of communication where we’re incapable of allowing those stories to slip by undocumented, unexplored, untold. Michael Lee
September 17, 2010