Found footage is, to my mind, one of the richest and most playful settings for film there is. It lends itself to the indie side of filmmaking, creating a space of intimacy and innovation that thrives best in the hands of people who clearly love the craft. It has the potential to grow and prosper under even the starkest of circumstances and has produced as a result some of the most original work in a time where the creative landscape has been forced to change thanks in no small part to limitations enforced by lockdowns and protective health measures that have fundamentally affected every area of life since 2020.
One of the best of Panic Fest 2024’s offerings, writer/director Michelle Iannatuono’s LIVESCREAMERS is a masterclass in using straightforward techniques to establish tension and character development that left me overjoyed for the future of everyone involved. The tools and premise may seem relatively simple on the surface—a successful collective of video game content creators invites a fan to play with them for a day, only to find that the game they have queued up is haunted and out for blood, unless they can work together—but what unfolds is a far tenser and more nuanced critique of behind-the-scenes power structures and toxicity than it first appears.
One of my favorite things to come out of the search for ways to maintain connection in an isolated landscape was the deluge of virtual platforms that allowed us all to create spaces where we could still experience the closest thing to in-person connection available: face to face video chat platforms and an increase in things like community streaming of our favorite content, whether it be something like hosting a Netflix watch party or streaming games together on Twitch. Unsurprisingly, this environment soon developed a dark side that seems only to have worsened with time, in which professional careers developed and flourished in a remote-dominated world. In itself this is not a bad thing, and in fact allowed for opportunities previously unthought of or inaccessible to swaths of people. The darkness comes when we think of the screen less as a medium for communication and more as a tool that allows for anonymity. We forget that the things we say are being read by real people, and never truly go away. It allows for a kind of savagery as layered and insidious as it’s possible to imagine, on both sides. The screen is also a connection to performance, and if there’s one thing drilled into our heads practically from birth, it’s the perfection and idealization of performers we see on screens, and the need to be perfect and ideal if we’re the ones performing. If you gain any sort of platform, you’re expected to maintain a spotless reputation, even retroactively, or else face shame and ostracization.
LIVESCREAMERS feels fresh in many ways. It has its finger on the pulse of the current social attitudes told through a lens that ensures its place as a hallmark of culture of its time. The diverse cast all give immediately enthralling performances that allow us to sympathize with (almost) all of them as soon as we meet them and establish their roles in the content creation team. Mitch (Ryan LaPlante) is the founder of Janus Gaming, a popular YouTube channel of diverse video game streamers, each with their own special interests, that seems to pride itself on being a space where such different people can come together through this shared experience. On his staff of players is Taylor (Coby C. Oram), the conventionally attractive white man, and most obviously popular member; Gwen (Sarah Callahan Black), Taylor’s funny, beautiful blonde wife who must keep her DMs locked for fear of unsolicited pictures and harassment; Nemo (Michael Smallwood), an older Black man who keeps his cards close to his chest; Zelda (Anna Lin), a bubbly Legend of Zelda fan who resents having to defend her right to love gaming just because she is a woman but stays positive almost out of spite; Jon (Christopher Trinidade) and Davey (Evan Michael Pearce), the resident horror game hounds and inseparable player/spectator pair who notoriously play up the homoerotic jokes of their friendship to fan the flames of fanfiction; and Dice (Maddox Julien Slide), the most talented player of them all who fosters a deep well of righteous anger over people telling them they do not deserve a seat at the table because of their identity as a queer person. One of Janus Gaming’s biggest fans, Lucy (Neoma Sanchez) has won the opportunity to come onto the stream and play a yet-to-be-released indie horror game that demands teamwork in order to win, or even advance.
Even before the game’s start menu, the dynamic between the eight players and their manager is rapidly and firmly established. Even though we’re not told much about them up front, what they give us is rich enough to begin painting our own pictures from exposure we may have already had in the YouTube/Twitch streaming environment. We can tell these people have been doing this for a while and know just how to push each other’s buttons. Establishing this early and effectively is what makes the rest of the film work so well. We feel like we know them, even before we do.
As they make their way through the game, it becomes clear that the stakes are far higher than they imagined. The game relies on teamwork, yes, but it also makes a point of testing the strength of the relationships of everyone involved. And if they get pushed past the breaking point? Well…the consequences transcend the perceived protection of the screen. Slowly, bit by bit, each member of Janus Gaming is forced to confront their worst moments, and the rest of the team must decide how best to deal with them. By the end of it we have a bloody tapestry that turns its lens on content creators and fans alike and asks us to face the brutal truth that nothing is as shiny as it seems. We do not truly know anyone on either side of a screen unless we’ve taken the time to leave the screen behind and face them in person. And, on the other side of that, they might just be more power hungry than we ever could have imagined.
Though LIVESCREAMERS is a sequel to the 2020 LIVESCREAM, it works just as strongly on its own. A tense, incredibly entertaining ride, LIVESCREAMERS is one of the year’s best uses of horror as a platform for and cautionary tale examining the complexities of humanity, all while turning the YouTube environment of horror Let’s Plays into one of the year’s bloodiest haunted houses.
Tags: Anna Lin, Christopher Trinidade, Coby C. Oram, Evan Michael Pearce, Film Festivals, Found-Footage, Livescream, Livescreamers, Maddox Julien Slide, Michael Smallwood, Michelle Iannatuono, Neoma Sanchez, Panic Fest, Panic Fest 2024, Ryan LaPlante, Sarah Callahan Black
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