Wednesday, September 29, 2010


Dire cyber-age consequences of making up your life as you go along

Posted By on Wed, Sep 29, 2010 at 12:00 AM

While much of the vast information superhighway has twisted itself into pretzel shapes of confliction, adulation and speculation for months over David Fincher's unflattering portrait of Facebook's founders, a much smaller, marginally less buzzed-about film just may be more important viewing for the social-networking gen. 

Enter Catfish, a fest darling and an already-controversial (alleged) doc that pushes the what's-real, what's-not boundaries in the age of 24/7 electronic media saturation. 

The film ads have dabbled in William Castle-like hype — "don't dare reveal the shock twist ending" — but there's no boogeyman in the bushes, and the film poses deeper questions than the average mystery, though it's not clear if the makers really have any answers. 

Most Catfish reviews thus far have been consumed with how much of what we see is authentic and what must have been staged, but no discussion can exist without some sort of spoiler, as its very gradual storytelling pace is best served by knowing as little about the plot as possible. The rough outline is this: Early twentysomething photographer Yaniv "Nev" Schulman, his brother Ariel and filmmaker Henry Joost share a Manhattan production office working on docs about ballet and modern dance. Nev begins corresponding with an 8-year-old named Abby from the U.P.'s Ishpeming; she's a little girl who paints impressive-for-her-age watercolors based on his published photos. Over months Nev also begins chatting with Abby's sexy twentyish older sister Megan and their mom Angela. Captivated by her Facebook photos, Nev starts exchanging messages, endless texts and occasional phone calls with Megan, which grow increasingly intense and romantic, all documented by ever-present cameras. Eventually curiosity takes over, especially when some of Megan's details seem suspicious, and the guys decide to take an impromptu road trip to visit the family that so fascinates them. That things aren't quite what they seem when they get there isn't so much a surprise as a revelation, and from here the film spins into fascinating and deeply discomforting territory. 

Just as the stories Megan tells Nev begin to unravel, certain details of the movie's last third seem to invalidate the beginning, the timeline becomes shaky, and it becomes clear that some of what we've seen must be re-creations or fabrications. There are also moments that feel faintly exploitive, involving some subjects who don't understand the power of the camera, and others who know it too well. The result is a movie that's part documentary, part thriller, part romance, part therapy session, and intermittently fascinating and cringe-inducing. 

Does it matter if every word or moment is spontaneous and honest? Like other recent questionable docs and hoaxes, such as Exit Through the Gift Shop and I'm Still Here, Catfish speaks to the inner lives of cyber age people, of those fleeting dirty messages that feel so real, the instantaneous joy of a text message, and the consequence of making up your life as you go along.

In this new world, the truth is basically a private concern, that the very immediacy of technology, by its nature, makes public life an illusion.

Corey Hall writes about film for Metro Times. Send comments to


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