Thoughts on a film: Creep (2014)
Reading through various comments for the film in question, the consensus despite its generally well-thought-of reputation among professional critics seems to be that the film didn't work. Phrases like "implausible", "unconvincing" and "not scary", appear to be circling around the usual comment sections and review sites, reminding us all of the strange double-standards of plausibility that horror cinema is held to and that other genres, such as comic book movies or animation, generally aren't.
While some of these commentators may have a point regarding the first two complaints (which I'll circumnavigate back to shortly), the third and less specific criticism of "not scary" is, at the very least, a subjective response. Like "not funny", or "not conventionally beautiful", it's a statement that says more about the individual viewer than it does about the film itself (although this is true of all criticism in general). It speaks of a certain expectation that is often forced upon an audience by ways of marketing (how the film is sold, in terms of its specific genre, title or imagery) and not of what the filmmakers were attempting to achieve on their own terms.
While practically speaking, Creep is a kind of horror film - in the sense that it works within the recognizable parameters of the genre, employing many of the same tropes and conventions that are familiar from other works operating along similar means - the intention isn't always to frighten or to scare the audience, but something else.
Instead, what the film appears to be doing is creating a series of situations that work to manipulate and provoke the viewer into reaching a particular emotional response. In this sense, the construction of the film and its relationship to the viewing audience mirrors the relationship between the two central characters; struggling videographer Aaron (played by the film's director, Patrick Brice) and the eccentric middle-aged rich-kid Joseph (played by the film's co-producer, Mark Duplass).
Joseph, who claims to have a terminal illness, hires Aaron to produce a 'day in the life' style video-diary to be shown to his as yet-unborn son: citing the plotline from the Bruce Joel Rubin film My Life (1993) as a more wholesome example. But the relationship between the two men quickly turns sour as Joseph's behavior becomes increasingly erratic.
While some of these commentators may have a point regarding the first two complaints (which I'll circumnavigate back to shortly), the third and less specific criticism of "not scary" is, at the very least, a subjective response. Like "not funny", or "not conventionally beautiful", it's a statement that says more about the individual viewer than it does about the film itself (although this is true of all criticism in general). It speaks of a certain expectation that is often forced upon an audience by ways of marketing (how the film is sold, in terms of its specific genre, title or imagery) and not of what the filmmakers were attempting to achieve on their own terms.
While practically speaking, Creep is a kind of horror film - in the sense that it works within the recognizable parameters of the genre, employing many of the same tropes and conventions that are familiar from other works operating along similar means - the intention isn't always to frighten or to scare the audience, but something else.
Creep [Patrick Brice, 2014]:
Instead, what the film appears to be doing is creating a series of situations that work to manipulate and provoke the viewer into reaching a particular emotional response. In this sense, the construction of the film and its relationship to the viewing audience mirrors the relationship between the two central characters; struggling videographer Aaron (played by the film's director, Patrick Brice) and the eccentric middle-aged rich-kid Joseph (played by the film's co-producer, Mark Duplass).
Joseph, who claims to have a terminal illness, hires Aaron to produce a 'day in the life' style video-diary to be shown to his as yet-unborn son: citing the plotline from the Bruce Joel Rubin film My Life (1993) as a more wholesome example. But the relationship between the two men quickly turns sour as Joseph's behavior becomes increasingly erratic.
My Life [Bruce Joel Rubin, 1993]:
Creep [Patrick Brice, 2014]:
While I enjoyed the film's back-and-forth between Aaron and Joseph – as well as the often-clever combination of found-footage style mockumentary, psychological horror story and comedy of embarrassment – it was this self-reflexive mirroring of the relationship between the two central characters and the relationship between the audience and the work that gave the film its real impact. More so than providing conventional scares or scenes of generic suspense, the film becomes a kind of deconstruction of the machinations of the horror film; exploring the odd contradiction in how both protagonists and audiences alike will often stick with a situation despite their better judgement.
It is within this context that the supposed implausibility or predictability of the relationship between these characters and the eventual outcome of events seems less bothersome.
From the outset, Aaron is manipulated and misled into meeting and then spending time with his antagonist, only to then be set a series of personal provocations that should compel him to retreat to the nearest exit. Instead, the erratic behavior of Joseph simply works to further pique the curiosity of Aaron, as well as his inherent (and in this instance misplaced) sensitivity. There may even be a familiar comment about the nature of voyeurism that runs throughout many films operating within the found-footage sub-genre, such as Paranormal Activity (2007) or REC 3: Genesis (2012) – where the post-millennium cultural obsession with documenting all aspects of one's life, including death, prevail above common sense – as Arron finds himself unable to stop documenting a situation that will undoubtedly lead him into harm.
It is within this context that the supposed implausibility or predictability of the relationship between these characters and the eventual outcome of events seems less bothersome.
From the outset, Aaron is manipulated and misled into meeting and then spending time with his antagonist, only to then be set a series of personal provocations that should compel him to retreat to the nearest exit. Instead, the erratic behavior of Joseph simply works to further pique the curiosity of Aaron, as well as his inherent (and in this instance misplaced) sensitivity. There may even be a familiar comment about the nature of voyeurism that runs throughout many films operating within the found-footage sub-genre, such as Paranormal Activity (2007) or REC 3: Genesis (2012) – where the post-millennium cultural obsession with documenting all aspects of one's life, including death, prevail above common sense – as Arron finds himself unable to stop documenting a situation that will undoubtedly lead him into harm.
Paranormal Activity [Oren Peli, 2007]:
One of the real innovations of the found-footage sub-genre was the emphasis on observation. Tied into this same aspect of voyeurism, audiences were encouraged to watch footage that had been left recording for several minutes, creating an even greater sense of anticipation and suspense.
Creep [Patrick Brice, 2014]:
When a scene of violence finally does occur, we're no longer expecting it. So, the violence feels all the more shocking and tangible.
Like the tradition of comedy characters like Alan Partridge or David Brent, the presentation of Joseph reveals something cruel and mean-spirited (and again, largely voyeuristic) about his audience; it gives him, as a character, a kind of credence to turn that negativity against us, as he does with Aaron. This was significant for me because it actually contextualizes and defends against the popular criticism that the film is unconvincing in its construction and that the characters behave implausibly or in a way that defies all reasonable logic. I mean, they do, without question; but that almost seems like the point.
Creep [Patrick Brice, 2014]:
No matter how implausible Joseph's stories are, how ridiculous the justifications for his uncomfortable behavior, or how many red flags should've been triggered as he turns his invasive and manipulative line of question back against his unsuspecting companion, Aaron remains strangely faithful. By the end of the film this implication becomes clear. Aaron has had his opportunity to run. If he doesn't take it, then surely, he deserves all he gets? The same is true for audience. If we stayed with it through scenes that were totally implausible, through justifications that didn't effectively justify anything and through the moments when things take a turn for the strange and uncomfortable, then does the audience also deserve this particular outcome?
Personally, I found Creep to be more unsettling than outright scary, but it certainly worked at creating and sustaining a mood that was both disturbing and charged with a pervasive, underlying tension. The jump scares, which are used frequently, are also quite often delivered in a manner that's self-aware and somewhat tongue-in-cheek. The intensity and suspense that we might normally expect from a conventional horror film is similarly neutralized by the distance that the found-footage format brings to the material but is also deconstructed or reinvented by the use of the format, its "meta" elements and self-reflexivity.
Personally, I found Creep to be more unsettling than outright scary, but it certainly worked at creating and sustaining a mood that was both disturbing and charged with a pervasive, underlying tension. The jump scares, which are used frequently, are also quite often delivered in a manner that's self-aware and somewhat tongue-in-cheek. The intensity and suspense that we might normally expect from a conventional horror film is similarly neutralized by the distance that the found-footage format brings to the material but is also deconstructed or reinvented by the use of the format, its "meta" elements and self-reflexivity.
