Rootwood. 2020.
Directed by Marcel Walz.
Starring Tyler Gallant, Elissa Dowling, Sarah French, Felissa Rose, Tiffani Fest, Brandon Rhea, and Kwame Head.
SYNOPSIS:
Two students are hired by a Hollywood film producer to shoot a horror documentary about the curse of The Wooden Devil.
Marcel Walz’s Rootwood, like infinite “inspirations,” dreams of replicating the budget-friendly achievements of found footage dandies such as Paranormal Activity or The Blair Witch Project. Alas, few productions since have been able to recreate either’s “evidence tape” style of sensational first-person screams—Rootwood included. Aquire camera equipment, trek into isolated forests and commence rolling as off-camera noises freak out your actors. Sounds easy, right? Too easy. Deceptively easy. Uninspiringly easy.
William (Tyler Gallant) and Jessica (Elissa Dowling) are buzzworthy paranormal podcasters known to subscribers as “The Spooky Hour.” Hollywood producer Laura Benott (Felissa Rose) offers the duo a documentary filmmaking gig and launchpad into stardom. Their destination? Rootwood Forest. Their investigative target? “The Wooden Devil.” Accomplice Erin (Sarah French) tags along so the Spookies can stay on camera at all times, as William and Jessica spew “expert” occult knowledge for entertainment value (so to speak). Point, record, make magic. An effortless task in their minds, but what if Woody-D is more than a campfire story?
Stop me if you’ve heard this tall tale because I have—countless times. Egotistical dopes poke the proverbial (undead) bear only to encounter what they foolishly assumed would never dare approach. Shadowy figures lurk in background dimness while leaves rustle…ominously? Documentarians shoot everything, which painstakingly recycles “surprises” in the form of empty woodland spaces. Rootwood understands the basics of found footage cinema, but never elevates the game. Not so easy now, eh?
Character development is no more profound than William’s wardrobe of graphic tees with slogans like “vampire in the streets, werewolf in the sheets” or random genre director names (also, damn I feel called out). William and Jessica’s presence is defined by their camera-ready astonishment or mistaken noises when, for instance, rustling in their deluxe RV is Will pooping and not the Wooden Devil. Erin’s inclusion doesn’t help much either, filling the ditzy friend-with-a-romantic-past void. She narrates in-your-face facts aloud as only found footage characters do, then flees towards certain death, once again, as found footage characters do. One saving grace? Elissa Dowling’s versatile pair of lungs let out a convincing final girl screech. Still, the Spooky Squad resembles “genre experts” who would probably mock their own shallow traits, while watching themselves, in a low-rent found footage ripoff.
Even worse, Rootwood‘s playback inspires cinematic confidence. Viewers can (*gasp*) generally see without tracking fuzz? Plus, the Wooden Devil costume evokes “Evil Easter Bunny” vibes in the right way. While framing and jostled motion may distort visibility (of empty forest reaches), crisp video feeds are a cut above similarly priced competitors. Walz succeeds where so many fail—putting a nightmarish creature to screen—which under more suspenseful circumstances might hurdle the proverbial positive/negative hump. The issue becomes, as anticipated, a monster—created by Satan when a woodsman sells his soul—is banished to the darkest corners of any scene. You can barely unblur his furry animal coat, jagged horns, and snarling (latex mask) teeth until a *fantastic* atmospheric shot where “The Spooky Hour” would have conducted their talking-head interviews.
Then the movie blunders onward past said “perfection,” and I screamed, “YOU WERE SO CLOSE! YOUR ENDING WAS RIGHT THERE!”
Rootwood is degenerative, basic-as-unfinished-balsa, found footage simplicity—then a convoluted ending gets too excessively “cute” (we’ll say). Marcel Walz’s bait-and-switch ending does no favors when the initial tease would make for a better exit, but here we are. Lamenting the same dull attitudes of yet another found footage rehash that explores no new territory, nor pushes any envelopes. Bless writer Mario von Czapiewski’s attempted “The Wooden Devil” mysticism, but repetitive norms of an easy-to-mishandle cinematic perspective make Rootwood just another found flick that swaps out one state’s parklands for another’s crunchy-underfoot foliage. Maybe this time there’s a symbolic noose (like in, say, The Gallows), but pant-heavy runs through midnight darkness are all the same when there’s nothing else to offer (like, say, Willow Creek does).
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★
Matt spends his after-work hours posting nonsense on the internet instead of sleeping like a normal human. He seems like a pretty cool guy, but don’t feed him after midnight just to be safe (beers are allowed/encouraged). Follow him on Twitter/Instagram/Letterboxd (@DoNatoBomb).
