I swear that one day I’m going to take a hand held camera, hook it to one of those pinwheel firecrackers, set the tape to record, light the wheel on fire and send the result to Universal Studios as the missing climax to a found footage film. That is exactly what the “action” in a found footage film feels like. And I’ve grown increasingly impatient with it; chaotic, blurry, indecipherable static is not an adequate substitute for plot.
Years earlier, Sophie (Florence Hartigan) lost her film hobbyist brother to the deserts of Arizona. Now, she has returned home as an adult to discover the truth using all the footage she can find. The key event preceding the disappearance of her brother and two teens occurred at a family gathering; as the evening progressed, some “mysterious lights” appeared in the sky and were caught on tape by what must have been an epileptic cinematographer currently having a seizure.
Nerdy Josh (Luke Spencer Roberts), Sophie’s brother, decides to investigate, but not before taking his would-be girlfriend Ashley (Chelsea Lopez) and the guy Ashley would obviously rather be dating (Justin Matthews). Good plan, Josh. Luckily, there’s plenty of crappy footage left behind as Josh was apt to document every last moment of his failures. Hey, here’s the exact moment where you can tell Ashley isn’t into him … at all. Isn’t that sweet?
The nerd routine only goes so far, however, and Sophia has to collect tapes from the actual night of the disappearance. Can she find the one the police don’t have? Will the acting be any better on that one? Will the film resolve with exact-moment documentation but completely inadequate resolution? Yes, no, and yes. I loathe this genre.
Now, Phoenix-forget this film and imagine the phenomena by which every time a plot needed to be resolved, the director opted for the “blurry camera” routine:
Fight Club: Edward Norton continues searching in vain for Tyler Durden. Suddenly, he runs into Helena Bonham Carter and instead of asking her where to find Tyler, the cinematography goes haywire. Blurry, confused shots of parking garages, 
abandoned houses and random fists. When it stops, Norton and Carter are together watching El Lay collapse and the film ends.
The Wizard of Oz: Dorothy hands the broomstick to the Wiz who turns out to be a fraud. Dorothy cries, “Oh, how will I ever get home to Kansas?” Then, like a tornado, the camera spins flashing on the emerald city and the yellow brick road and then Kansas itself. Suddenly, Dorothy is back in her room without explanation. Film ends.
The Usual Suspects: “Who is Keyser Söze? Let me tell you …” Suddenly camera jerks, random blurred shots of a tanker and the police station, a minute later Kevin Spacey is walking out of the police station. Credits roll.
Am I being unfair here? Not one little bit. I feel more for possibly spoiling those three films above to my readers than telling the makers of Phoenix Forgotten directly: you are assholes. Learn how to write a film; learn how to film a film; learn how to end a film. Don’t freaking show me another one until you do.
In adventure, they all sought a grail
And so with this poem, I shan’t fail
To emulate the style of the trail
To capture a cinematic white whale
At first, we followed after this male
He and his friends could prevail
When faced with abduction, no quail
At the key moment …*bam* *pow* assail!
“HEY!” “WHAT?!” *blur* *ping* *slorp* *nail*
And that, my friends, ended the tale
Rated PG-13, 80 Minutes
D: Justin Barber
W: Justin Barber, T.S. Nowlin
Genre: Blurry
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Area 51 groupies
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Aliens sick of shitty cinematography from earthlings: “Dude, before we abduct you, could you at least get us in frame?”
