Perhaps you’ve heard this one before… A group of teens witness (or maybe had a hand in) a horrific accident in the past and are terrorized one by one for their involvement.
Sure, it’s been a staple setup for the genre, but every now again, a film stumbles along and tweaks it just enough to make it work.
“Unfriended” takes that exact same premise and grounds it in just enough clever editing and off-camera chills to resurrect it for yet another fun fright flick. Think of it as “I Know Who You Skyped Last Summer.”
Using only the window of a Mac laptop as its setting, director Leo Gabriadze makes the most of it to draw out a realistic look at the lives of modern teens in what may look like a simple, low-budget horror flick, but is actually quite an accomplished feat of synchronous editing.
It’s Freddy Krueger by way of Facebook or Michael Myers via MySpace as Mitch (played by Moses Jacob Storm), Blaire (played by Shelley Henning), Ken (played by Jacob Wysocki), Adam (played by Will Peltz), and Jess (played by Renee Olstead) are video chatting to set up their weekend plans and are visited by a unwanted entity with death on its mind.
Unfortunately, this particular weekend is also the anniversary of the death of fellow classmate Laura (played by Heather Sossaman) who ended her own life after an incriminating video of her reckless behavior was posted on YouTube for the world to see. Their Skype session is also attended by a mystery guest with no avatar and a cryptic username. After multiple attempts to get the unknown visitor to reveal him- or herself, they opt to drop the caller and soon realize that it’s not an option.
After some online snooping, Blaire (whose computer it is through which the entire film unfolds) finds out that the account belongs to Laura, and the entire gang’s online life is being manipulated by someone with access to Laura’s various accounts. Before too long, they are all invited to play a truth-telling game with deadly results. If they refuse, they die. If they lose, they die. Plain and simple. This may sound like it’s the most boring/unappealing foundation on which to construct a horror film, and for many, staring at an enlarged laptop screen may seem like the most unappealing pitch since Andy Warhol’s “Empire.” (For those unfamiliar with this particular flick, I shall sum it up: A slow-motion single shot of the Empire State Building...for eight freaking hours!).
But Gabriadze manages to splice all his elements together into a fluid “in-real-time” feature that must have required some truly inspired and crafty behind-the-scenes techniques in order to pull it all off. The showbiz adage goes: “You should never recognize great editing,” and that is certainly the case with “Unfriended,” as it feels like one lengthy take using five (and sometimes six) cameras blended together for its 80-minute runtime.
For instance, we are provided further character study by gazing at the various tabs left open on Blaire’s computer, or through witnessing her original thoughts she types into her replies just before she deletes them to provide more appropriate or honest answers.
Her connection with the deceased Laura is delivered by a browse through her Facebook timeline and the pair’s friendship throughout the years. Equally, the clues as to who or what may be the motivation of this attack are provided by Blaire’s browsing through various websites in search of answers. And, in keeping with its online-friendly theme, the teens meet their demise by finally revealing their true natures, not the ones they perpetuate in their happy-go-lucky social media alter-egos. You could certainly mine the film further for its commentary on the damaging nature of what we choose to share with one another - and the world - in the internet age, but “Unfriended” works much better the more you appreciate it for its smaller accomplishments and not for its grander visions.
As accomplished as it may be technically, I truly hope those involved leave well enough alone and do not decide to carry the film’s premise on through multiple chapters (“Re-Unfriended?”), as it’s merely a tight, slick one-trick pony of a picture. But it’s still one hell of a trick.