If you’ve seen the trailer for “Catfish,” the Sundance splash that was netted by Brett Ratner and Rogue Pictures for over a million dollars, you get the gist: Nev Schulman, a young photographer in New York City, starts an online relationship with a family in Michigan. Nev’s brother, filmmaker Ariel Schulman and their roommate Henry Joost, start to become fascinated with Nev’s story, filming him everywhere and documenting his ongoing relationship with the family. As the trailer hints, there might be something not-quite-right with this family, and the sense of dread and unease increases as the three guys decide to visit the family in Michigan. The buildup is admittedly quite tense, although its tag of a “reality thriller” suggests something more sinister than the film actually delivers.
The documentary seems to develop organically, first as a kind of prankish hounding by Nev’s roommates (initially they just film him because), then as a bumbling road documentary (complete with overlays of Google Maps graphics), until finally it mutates into a more somber critique and evaluation of the social networks we’re all so precariously plugged into.
But here’s the thing – you never really know how much of the movie is real. You’re either working under two assumptions: one, that Nev was pulled into this web and was either willfully naive or gullible, never once taking part in his clear technological prowess to figure out what, exactly, was going on; or two, the filmmakers fabricated the events, either in part or whole, to milk it for all it was worth, dramatically. Most people seem to think at least some of the filmmakers (if not Nev than Ariel and Henry) had prior knowledge of what was really going on, which, for the sake of your enjoyment of the movie, we won’t reveal here.
At the screening we attended a few weeks ago, a colleague turned to us the second the movie was over and said, “That movie was about as much a documentary as ‘Superman.'” (Later, Morgan Spurlock, called it “the best fake documentary ever.”) And true, the movie is sometimes a hard pill to swallow, but the question remains — does it really affect the movie (or your appreciation of it)?
The answer, for the most part, is no.
Between “Exit Through the Gift Shop” and “I’m Still Here,” this is the year in which narrative documentaries seem to warp our understanding of what’s real and what’s not, and this is yet another instance of those movies, in which we’re told what we’re watching is factual, but it still doesn’t keep us from scratching our head as we leave the theater.
You get sucked into Nev and his story, partially because the movie is so open (there’s a hilarious, heartbreaking scene where Nev reads his dirty text messages to the family’s 19-year-old daughter) and partially because the immediacy of the theme: we are, after all, hopelessly devoted to the internet, to a world where people can shape and reshape their personalities and present themselves anyway they choose. The movie never keeps you at arms-length; you are right there with these guys, both in the immediate way of feeling like you’re along for the ride, and also because you probably have a tab open on your browser right now that’s on Facebook or Twitter or MySpace. (Does anybody use MySpace anymore?) It’s as gripping as any recent thriller, partially because you could see yourself getting involved in something just as convoluted.
There are certain elements of the movie which may seem exploitative, but the filmmakers (guided by “Capturing The Friedmans” director Andrew Jarecki, here serving as producer) never indulge in cruelty. As twisted as the story becomes, they sidestep the moral quagmire nicely. There’s never any indication of anything besides the utmost sincerity from both the filmmakers and Nev; mercifully a smirk never slides across the film’s slippery surface.
And this is the movie’s saving grace, because while there may be grander, more philosophically thorny issues to invest in, it’s the story of one young man who learns something about himself, and the world around him. The larger issues are on the periphery and embellish the main narrative, but it’s never at the forefront. It’s telling that while “Catfish” will splash into theaters this weekend in limited release, it will hit the wider markets on October 1st, the same weekend as David Fincher’s barbed “The Social Network.” Expect lots of people talking about our relationship to the internet that weekend, and lots of long-winded essays online about the very subject. One of “Catfish’s” chief attributes is its ability to engage in the discussion without ever taking a moral stance. As Nev was suckered, so will you. How much was real and how much was fake? Well, maybe you can ask your Facebook friends and see what they think. [B]