This film doesn’t seem like much when explaining the plot as it is. Set in the final days of 1999, it’s the story of Abbie (Joshua Burge), who is given a challenge by his brother Cam (David Dastmalchian): Get past level 256 in Pac-Man. He is not allowed to leave his apartment, or even his couch, until it’s completed. For the entirety of the film’s run time, we never leave this apartment or Abbie’s side. I know that the prevalence of Twitch streamers nowadays somewhat makes the idea of watching someone else play video games for hours on end seem plausible, but does that make this watchable? Well, in the hands of writer/director/editor Joel Potrykus, more so than you’d think.
With its overwhelmingly ‘90s aesthetic, from the set design to the dialogue, it carries a familiar shooting-the-shit approach to dialogue, when random friends and neighbours pop their heads in during Abbie’s marathon run; kinda like the character interactions in Slacker or the works of Kevin Smith. However, while there’s definite elements of comedy in here (and very surreal comedy at that), I’d argue that this is more akin to survival horror in how it’s presented.
In the scenes where no-one is talking, of which there are quite a few here, we see Abbie go to some pretty inventive lengths to get the barest essentials like food and water. Lengths like jury rigging a handy reacher to a camera tripod, putting a cup in the reacher, and reaching it through a broken window to catch some rain to drink. Or using the tripod to break through the wall (and water pipes within) to the same end. All while he’s sitting on the couch in his underwear, spoiled milk residue on his chest, just trying to get to level 257.
This is an exceptionally gross film, to the point where the squalor on-screen takes on an almost-tactile sensation, like you can feel the grunge being captured. The sweat on Abbie’s brow, the stink of spoiled milk throw-up all over the floor, the rotting carcass of a bird that crashed through the window, the choking cloud of gas from a bug bomb; the claustrophobic framing almost forces the audiences to take in everything that’s being shown, even when it connects to senses that don’t correlate to sound or sight.
Have to admit, even though this film first hit the festival circuit in 2018, it reaching screens over here in 2020 gives it a bit of extra punch. The idea of being stuck inside, clinging to whatever leisure you can get your hands on, while the world goes to shit outside… yeah, it’s pretty easy to relate to. Hell, speaking personally, I’ve spent quite a bit of time in lockdown occupying myself with video games and comic books, trying to keep my brain engaged to stave off cabin fever and (more pointedly) the despair of the situation we’re all in.
And speaking of despair and other dour feels, might as well get into the actual whys of the plot. Essentially, Abbie’s challenge is the result of the quite abusive relationship he has with his brother, who apparently has a habit of roping Abbie into doing gross and/or dangerous shit for the sake of a ‘challenge’. Like drinking spoiled milk as fast as possible, or smoking cat nip cigarettes; the kind of stuff you can probably find on YouTube with very little effort. It’s honestly a pretty heartbreaking look at that kind of fucked-up power dynamic, where another person’s hold and influence can turn even simple leisure and entertainment into its own form of torture.
I can pretty much guarantee that most people reading this won’t vibe entirely with this film, as it’s a very specific type of grotesque surreality that makes for its own little endurance test in parallel to its lead’s. But for how low-budget it is, how cramped the frame is, and how unique its methodology is, this is pretty damn remarkable and appeals a lot to the side of me that is enamoured with SpectreVision and films like Kuso. This ain’t your dad’s apocalypse.
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