Bodycam review: Police versus the paranormal is a great Blair Witch-like ride-along
Cops don't tend to do well in horror movies. When a rampaging killer is on the loose, the police officer with his gun and badge is a symbol of order that will be violently toppled, just to show the sheer horrifying power of the villain. Think of Scream's often-stabbed Deputy Dewey Riley, or his slain protégé Sheriff Judy Hicks in Scream 5, or The Wicker Man's Sergeant Neil Howie, who was ultimately set ablaze by the community he came to protect.
So, out of the gate, you can predict that the officers at the center of Shudder's Bodycam are going to have a rough night shift ahead of them. Not only are they cops in a horror movie, but also they're cops in a found-footage horror movie, a subgenre known for a very low survival rate. Yes, as you might have deduced, this movie is shot almost entirely through their bodycams, offering audiences a unique perspective on horror. However, while you might predict how this scary movie will end, you won't guess at the wild twists along the way.
Bodycam has a folk-horror story in an urban setting.
Written by Ryan Christensen and Brandon Christensen, and helmed by the latter, Bodycam begins on what seems an average nightly patrol with Officer Jackson (Jamie M. Callica) and Officer Bryce (Sean Rogerson). Called to a rundown house over a domestic disturbance, ominous signs pile up fast. Sure, they notice the folks who seem mesmerized, lingering outside the house, staring up at the sky. But the cops shrug them off as "tweakers," pushing past them to a front door left ajar, through which a swarm of rats flees into the night.
A woman's bloodcurdling scream draws them inside, where they split up. Their investigations swiftly push them out of their comfort zones. What they find in this house is bloody and discombobulating. When one of them fires on a civilian, the fear comes faster than regret. Will they try to cover it up? Will they try to make amends? One bad split-second decision pulls them both into a downward spiral of suspense and supernatural weirdness.
From a genre perspective, the Christensens frame the film within a folk-horror structure. Like The Wicker Man, Bodycam centers on a representative of law and order. Within this context, the cops are meant to be rational, rejecting the folklore and superstitions of simple country folk. But Jackson and Bryce don't need to travel to a country village for that experience. It's their own city, their own beat, but not their world. And their position of power can't protect them from the evil here. As they investigate the bizarre paranormal activity that follows them out of the strange house, they discover the so-called tweakers understand something they don't.
They seek advice from Jackson's mother, a sage Black woman who speaks of community, sneers at his uniform, and warns of getting in over his head. Within this reinterpretation of folk horror, Bodycam becomes a clever investigation into the horror that can unfold when police officers become disconnected from the communities they're meant to serve. Rather than a story of us versus them, Bodycam plays as a warning about such division. But on top of that, it's a gnarly romp.
Bodycam is a twisted sprint of a horror-thriller.
While this found-footage movie touches on big topics like police brutality, its 75-minute runtime means there's no time to linger. Shot not just in bodycams, but presented as a one-night shift gone wrong quick, we're locked to their every step from that first call over the radio. The Christensens shrewdly scripted Bodycam so that the movie veers from one jolting sequence to another, keeping us off-balance like the officers. Like them, we might wish to make sense of the strange graffitied symbols that follow them, or the cryptic words mumbled by strangers with piercing stares. But as in The Blair Witch Project, the protagonists can't think straight while running for their lives through terrain that — while once familiar — has become a mindfuck of a labyrinth. So, be warned, this is not a paranormal mystery with answers, just plenty of thrills and scares.
The actual horror in the film is solid stuff. Setting the tone are the strange folk, smeared with blood, shuffling to an unknown purpose. Occasionally, there's a jump scare involving a distorted face (think The Ring) or a freaky figure with distended limbs. But what makes these elements creepier is the use of bodycams.
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While I worried at first that the bodycams might make for a barrage of blurry shots (think the shaky-cam aesthetic of The Hunger Games), Brandon Christensen is meticulous in the staging of certain scenes. With the cameras positioned at the center of his protagonists' chests, often the footage from one captures the other's expression. Or perhaps a mirror catches the wearer's face as he's chided by his mother. This slightly low angle also reflects the characters' initial sense of superiority over those around them. But as the film progresses, the angle shifts to suggest a break in their relationship. In one scene, Jackson is practically on the ground as his camera captures Bryce firing on a civilian. This much lower angle, showing Bryce's arm fully extended, his face locked into focus as he fires, creates a sense of dread and intimidation. These two are no longer on the same footing on what it means to be a cop. This lower angle suggests Bryce is the scariest thing in this room.
Then there's the sense of spontaneity the bodycam concept gives this film. Because every turn could reveal a 360 of their surroundings, Christensen can't shoot on a three-walled set. Instead, the whole environment should be film-ready so as not to break the immersion. And that urges the audience on some level to be aware of what might lurk just out of frame. Like Michael Myers hiding in the shadows of a closet, there's the possibility that a new horror is just out of sight. Sometimes, as the officers run, you'll get a flash of a figure, unclear yet unnerving. Other times, all we can see is what's directly ahead of the officer. With a gun extended with one hand and a flashlight in the other, his point of view is reminiscent of first-person shooter games, enhancing the viewer's awareness that while he has a weapon, he too is a target.
All this makes for a horror movie that's exhilarating to watch, and thrilling to reflect on. The dynamic style the film is shot in makes it easy to get caught up in the ride along with Jackson and Bryce, especially as their patrol goes off the rails into paranormal peril. Their mission is to unravel the mystery of what plagues them before it's too late. But Bodycam's quest is not just to chill — which it does — but to challenge its audience to consider the real horror behind all its clever devices and satisfying scares. That makes this more than just a devilishly entertaining found-footage movie. Bodycam is a wickedly smart horror film that gives you goosebumps that sink into your bloodstream and rattle your brain.