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To most horror aficionados, the words "found footage" will bring back memories of 1999's The Blair Witch Project and the insurmountable hype surrounding this low-budget independent picture. Due to the popularity and cult following of Blair Witch, the "found footage" genre was swiftly established.
[Rec] is a Spanish addition to the genre. It's a masterful mixture of Blair Witch and Danny Boyle's 28 Days Later... that, simply put, will scare the absolute hell out of you! [Rec] is a relentlessly scary, brilliantly conceived, marvellously executed and laudably effective horror film. It permits little respite, thus little chance for you to catch your breath. By the end you'll be gasping for air and begging for mercy. The movie is completely unyielding from the first frame 'til the last. It's riveting and utterly petrifying at a taut running time of about 75 minutes.
Forget Cloverfield and Diary of the Dead (two other recent "found footage" flicks), as [Rec] is more focused and far more terrifying. In Cloverfield a group of party-goers brave the destroyed streets and subways of monster-torn Manhattan. Diary of the Dead follows film students roaming the back roads of Pennsylvania as they avoid a zombie plague. In [Rec] - as in the record button on a camera - the action is confined to a single claustrophobic apartment block and the nature of the threat is mysterious. The film is a deft combination of blatant gory genre thrills and terror of the unknown. Nothing is more terrifying than being trapped in a pitch black room struggling for light as eerie noises fill the air. It's a thrilling, enthralling, captivating experience and the best of its kind. You want nightmares? You'll get 'em for sure! This is the greatest horror film since Neil Marshall's The Descent.
In tradition with similar films of the sub-genre, the entire flick is merely raw, unedited footage as if someone recovered a tape and viewed the contents. [Rec] opens with a fairly soft, gentle prologue as we're introduced to the crew of a late-night reality TV show called While You're Sleeping - invisible cameraman Pablo (Rosso) and presenter Ángela (Velasco). The two will be covering the activities at a local fire station for the duration of the night. Ángela (with trusty cameraman Pablo) tours the station; examining equipment and interviewing the squad. However boredom sets in as emergencies are scarce and the phone fails to ring. The monotony of the situation is soon broken when the team is summoned by a seemingly innocuous call: an old woman is trapped in her apartment. The news team accompany the firemen in the hope of getting an interesting scoop; instead they become trapped in the apartment building that's suddenly quarantined for mysterious reasons. An infection begins spreading throughout the building...and all hell breaks loose as everyone is soon fighting for their lives while Ángela records a running commentary.
Cranking the tension up to 11, Spanish co-directors Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza utilise every tool at their disposal to frighten and disturb, from shutting out the lights to the sudden menacing presence of an "infected" individual. This is high-quality horror that terrifies on a truly primal level. This is perhaps the correct antidote to suppress the constant conventional horror outings of the early 21st century. [Rec] is already the stuff of nightmares, but the ingeniousness of the film is telling the story using the news team's hand-held camera. This device was used to great effect in the J.J. Abrams blockbuster Cloverfield, but [Rec] takes things to a whole new level. Cloverfield followed party-goers filming a monster attack on the city because they want to document the event. Diary of the Dead used the technique for the sake of using the technique. In [Rec] the characters have a genuine reason to keep the camera rolling - they're despondent, arrogant journalists sitting on the story of their lives. Beyond that, the camera becomes a method for the victims to record their testimonies and they believe it can be exploited as proof such an occurrence actually transpired.
At about the 50-minute mark, the film's brilliance suddenly elevates once again. For the remaining 20 minutes the film is riveting and fast-paced. It builds to an absolutely incredible climax that refuses mercy to everyone.
The film is carried by a remarkable screenplay. In order for us to feel emotionally connected to the characters during the catastrophe, solid characterisations are imperative. Regardless of the film's "found footage" style, the sprawling congregation of characters are adequately developed. Opening with straight-to-camera intros for Ángela's TV show, the writer-directors quickly sketch her character - a sassy, resourceful reporter - before locking us in the apartment block and tossing away the key. Playing the realism card, the journalists wish to interview the residents of the apartment building as the night grows more intense. These interviews function effectively as character development. However, the film is occasionally undermined by the sheer idiocy of the characters. While escape plans are devised late into the game, the most obvious exit is finally mentioned. Every so often it's problematical to connect with the characters on a truly human level as they act like clichéd, one-dimensional horror victims.
The shaky-cam style employed for [Rec] has naturally been subjected to bitter criticisms. There are no prologues or epilogues in the form of text or narration. From start to finish, the zombie-type threat is obscured in anonymity. To be frank, text or voice-over explication would subdue the impact. The film is simply intended to be an unmolested copy of a tape recovered at the scene, and this illusion is never severely ruined. The shaky-cam style works effectively as we are deafened by each gun-shot and are shaken up by each attack or bone-chilling happening. The faux docu hand-held technique amps up the single-location claustrophobia brilliantly. Wobbly-cam shots add to the confusion as [Rec] reels out the customary zombie movie clichés: shouting supporting characters, a kiddie zombie and callous authorities failing to do anything useful (who, in an utter masterstroke, are glimpsed only as silhouettes as they tightly pack the building in biohazard plastic).
The acting is uniformly excellent. This is naturalistic acting at its finest. Never do any actors strike an incorrect note, nor are they contrived. Velasco is particularly convincing as the gormless reporter and her subsequent terror is all the more infectious as a result. There's strong support from the surrounding actors, including Ferran Terraza, Jorge Serrano, David Vert and Vicente Gil. The filmmakers keep the dialogue largely improvisational, elevating the realism. The effective filming approach merged with such brilliant acting allows you to forget that this is just a movie. The edge-of-your-seat tension is sustained until the very last second. Films of this standard are few and far between.
[Rec] is a consummate brew of high-class shocks and verité, generating one of the best horror films of recent memory. This is a rare cinematic treat - a horror film that relies on suspense created by fear of the unknown as opposed to geysers of blood and gore. This is a runaway rollercoaster of a fright flick that's so scary it'll leave you squirming in your seat. From the gentle opening to the shocking climax, I was riveted. Never did I even glance at my watch or allow my eyes to focus on anything other than the screen. Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza orchestrate a number of nail-bitingly suspenseful sequences as well as some genuine jump-out-of-your-seat moments. Suffice to say, nothing in the previous work of the joint directors could have prepared us for the nerve-shredding intensity of these 75 minutes of perfectly formed terror and peril. This is a sublime, well-done little flick that demands to be seen at the earliest opportunity. It's so good that Sony's Screen Gens snapped up the rights for a US remake entitled Quarantine. Highly [Rec]ommended!
8.8/10
