Fantastic Film Fest 2023 Review - The Outwaters
Images courtesy of Fantastic Film Festival.
The Outwaters is a found-footage horror film that takes the genre to new extremes of experimentation. Directed by and starring Robbie Banfitch, the film follows four friends who venture into the Mojave desert to shoot a music video, only to bear witness to a series of inexplicable and horrifying phenomena that challenges their grip on reality. While the film starts off slow as it attempts to imbue emotion and atmosphere whilst establishing motivations for its characters, around the midpoint it veers into a chaotic descent into hell - delivering a relentless barrage of jump scares, gore, and cosmic horror - before ultimately culminating in an ending that's as shocking as it is bewildering.
Much like Skinamarink and We're All Going to the World's Fair before it, The Outwaters has garnered a love-it-or-hate-it reputation, and while it has a much clearer genre identity as a straight-up found footage horror/sci-fi than the more arthouse aesthetic framings of the former, it's also much harder to glean plot details (especially once Card #3 starts), and I can see this being the sticking point for most people. If the pacing doesn't already tick you off, the obfuscation of reasoning behind just what the f**k is going on very well might, and then all that's left is the shaky, pinhole flashlight wielded by protagonist Robbie. However, for those able to submit themselves to the experience, there's a plethora of great ideas here that are mostly executed quite well, as experimental and abrasive as they may be.
There's some incredibly grotesque practical effects, bringing to life some gleefully bizarre lo-fi monster designs including tentacle worms and what appears to be some sort of gargantuan Eldritch abomination in all its fleshy glory. The Outwaters is also front-loaded with some gorgeous shots, something that most found-footage films would consider sacrilege, but here excused by the in-universe cameraman (Banfitch) being a music video director, alongside the gorgeous Mojave setting. But perhaps the film's strongest asset of all lies in its incredible sound design.
Every crunch, snap and tear of flesh is made so much more visceral - palpable, even - by the punchy mixing and modulation on every piece of foley. While at times we might not be seeing much, the audio sells every second of the nightmare with pinpoint precision and further places the onus of terror on the imagination of the viewer. Where other films may attempt this in ways that feel cheap or like a lack of confidence in the director's creative vision, The Outwaters pulls it off with a gonzo bravado, due to a deep understanding of what makes Lovecraftian terror so hard to translate onto the screen and so deeply unnerving when it's done effectively.
When all's said and done, and the confusion, horror and misery of The Outwaters is over, there's something about it that keeps inviting me to try and understand it on a more literal level, like a scab you want to itch even though you know you shouldn't. I went into the film expecting to be left wanting more from the limited handycam perspective, and yet, I found that with every flick of the torch, I grew increasingly afraid of what I might see. As a pretty seasoned horror fan, it's rare that films get to me so genuinely, and yet alone in my lounge room at 3AM watching my screener, I was quietly kind of blown away by Banfitch's approach. It's not without its flaws, and does run a bit long at 110 minutes, but for those whose annoyance is outweighed by their curiosity, it's an exciting addition to the found footage hall of fame, blending equal parts Blair Witch Project, Event Horizon, Climax and Death Grips album. Show them indeed.
Follow Eli on Letterboxd, Twitter and Instagram.
Follow FFFA on Letterboxd, Facebook and Instagram.
The Outwaters is screening at the 2023 Fantastic Film Festival Australia, running 14th to 30th April. Check out the festival website for tickets and more info here.