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1912

Abstract

It’s now the go-to style for making movies because everybody’s shooting the Next Big Thing on their iPhones.But back in 1999, not only was the world about to end, but “found footage” was new and different and weird, and there was no way I was going to miss this movie.It was playing in one of the smaller theaters in the multiplex, which I liked. Cozy, dark. The perfect horror-movie atmosphere. I was the first person there. Not unusual. I always want to be able to find a good seat, and God forbid I miss the trailers.I had my choice, so I picked dead middle so as to optimize my viewing and listening pleasure.Time ticked by. Nobody else walked through the door. Sure, it was a matinee. But seriously, nobody else was coming?I started to panic. Would they even play the movie if I was the only paying customer? How do these things work? I’d never been in a situation like this before. What are the rules?I fully, 100% believed they wouldn’t play the movie just for me.But God help me, they did.The trailers started and then the movie rolled, and I watched The Blair Witch Project alone in a pitch-black theater. And let me tell you, friend, it was like I was in that movie.I’ve never been so afraid in my entire life. And I don’t even know why, exactly. Okay, there’s noises out in the woods. Nothing exactly groundbreaking there.It’s dark. I don’t particularly like the dark.And there’s some piles of stones. Okay, I’m starting to get creeped out.And there’s these weird stick things hanging in the trees like evil Christmas decorations.Why are the stick things so freakin’ scary?I don’t know. But they are. I imagine the # Options set designer saying, “So I was goofing around with some twigs and I made… these!” and the director’s like, “Um, okay. Hang them in the trees or something. Whatever.”And now you can’t swing a dead cat in a horror movie without hitting a weird stick thing.You know the last scene of Blair Witch? Of course you do. As bad as the acting sometimes is in that movie, the sheer, absolutely real hysteria in Heather Donahue’s voice as she plunges through the house is Oscar worthy.And then, of course… *thud*.The second the screen went black, I bolted out of my seat and almost barrel rolled down the steps trying to get out. I needed daylight and I mean right now.I hope nobody saw me. I’m embarrassed just thinking about it.I’ve watched The Blair Witch Project probably 20 times, and it never, never doesn’t scare me. Not because of jump scares. Not because of gross-out scenes of blood and brains.The terror instilled by The Blair Witch Project is primal. It’s the terror of being alone and helpless and confused, preyed upon by malevolent unseen forces, with zero control over whatever’s going to happen next.It’s the terror of being human. It’s the existential fear that haunts our everyday existence.IndieWire posted <a href="https://www.indiewire.com/gallery/best-found-footage-movies/v-h-s-jan-2013/">this list</a> of the 15 best found footage movies and I’m going to work my way through any I haven’t seen, even <a href="https://collider.com/cannibal-holocaust-production-history-explained/">Cannibal Holocaust</a>, one of horror’s “most disturbing films”. As far as I’m concerned, the more disturbing, the better.Just don’t make me watch it alone.</article></body>

The Film That Most Scared Me as an Adult: The Blair Witch Project

Who’s afraid of noises in the woods and some weird sticks? Me, that’s who

The Blair Witch Project (1999) — Produced by Haxan Films/Distributed by Artisan Entertainment

It’s the dream of every movie lover to have a private screening room. Someplace where you can spread out without craning to look around somebody’s head or endure their not-so-whispery whispers and cellphone screens. Someplace where you don’t have to hear other people eating popcorn and tearing open candy wrappers like rabid squirrels.

Someplace where you can go full Howard Hughes and wear Kleenex boxes on your feet and pee into bottles while you watch every single version of Blade Runner in Cinemascope and Dolby Atmos Surround Sound.

Maybe that’s just me.

I remember the hype surrounding The Blair Witch Project. Made by complete unknowns on an initial budget of $60,000, it would eventually gross $248 million worldwide. Never before had a single close-up of a snotty nostril so shaken the world of cinema.

Those numbers are still mindboggling. And sure, the movie destroyed Heather Donahue’s life, but you can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs.

Blair Witch builds its hey-kids-let’s-make-a-documentary storyline around “found footage”, a technique so common today it’s easy to forget that before TBWP, it was practically non-existent. Can you even imagine a world without shaky handheld cameras and actors talking straight into the lens? Of course not.

It’s now the go-to style for making movies because everybody’s shooting the Next Big Thing on their iPhones.

But back in 1999, not only was the world about to end, but “found footage” was new and different and weird, and there was no way I was going to miss this movie.

It was playing in one of the smaller theaters in the multiplex, which I liked. Cozy, dark. The perfect horror-movie atmosphere. I was the first person there. Not unusual. I always want to be able to find a good seat, and God forbid I miss the trailers.

I had my choice, so I picked dead middle so as to optimize my viewing and listening pleasure.

Time ticked by. Nobody else walked through the door. Sure, it was a matinee. But seriously, nobody else was coming?

I started to panic. Would they even play the movie if I was the only paying customer? How do these things work? I’d never been in a situation like this before. What are the rules?

I fully, 100% believed they wouldn’t play the movie just for me.

But God help me, they did.

The trailers started and then the movie rolled, and I watched The Blair Witch Project alone in a pitch-black theater. And let me tell you, friend, it was like I was in that movie.

I’ve never been so afraid in my entire life. And I don’t even know why, exactly. Okay, there’s noises out in the woods. Nothing exactly groundbreaking there.

It’s dark. I don’t particularly like the dark.

And there’s some piles of stones. Okay, I’m starting to get creeped out.

And there’s these weird stick things hanging in the trees like evil Christmas decorations.

Why are the stick things so freakin’ scary?

I don’t know. But they are. I imagine the set designer saying, “So I was goofing around with some twigs and I made… these!” and the director’s like, “Um, okay. Hang them in the trees or something. Whatever.”

And now you can’t swing a dead cat in a horror movie without hitting a weird stick thing.

You know the last scene of Blair Witch? Of course you do. As bad as the acting sometimes is in that movie, the sheer, absolutely real hysteria in Heather Donahue’s voice as she plunges through the house is Oscar worthy.

And then, of course… *thud*.

The second the screen went black, I bolted out of my seat and almost barrel rolled down the steps trying to get out. I needed daylight and I mean right now.

I hope nobody saw me. I’m embarrassed just thinking about it.

I’ve watched The Blair Witch Project probably 20 times, and it never, never doesn’t scare me. Not because of jump scares. Not because of gross-out scenes of blood and brains.

The terror instilled by The Blair Witch Project is primal. It’s the terror of being alone and helpless and confused, preyed upon by malevolent unseen forces, with zero control over whatever’s going to happen next.

It’s the terror of being human. It’s the existential fear that haunts our everyday existence.

IndieWire posted this list of the 15 best found footage movies and I’m going to work my way through any I haven’t seen, even Cannibal Holocaust, one of horror’s “most disturbing films”. As far as I’m concerned, the more disturbing, the better.

Just don’t make me watch it alone.