By RICHELLE CHARKOT
Starring Robbie Banfitch, Leslie Ann Banfitch, Salem Belladonna
Written and directed by Robbie Banfitch
Fathom Film Company
Although some may think that found footage has run its course, thanks to endless retreads of The Blair Witch, it is a breath of fresh air when a film comes along and uses the parameters of the subgenre to its benefit. With no derogatory intent whatsoever, found footage should be a little boring. If a person were to find a tape with something violent on it, most of the runtime would be mundane, human life and waiting around for something to happen. Most found footage movies have a fundamental misunderstanding of this and try to shoehorn in a fast pace that doesn’t make sense. Robbie Banfitch, director and star of TINSMAN ROAD, understands how to make found footage work. Starring Banfitch and his real-life mother, Leslie Ann Banfitch, as a bereaved family coping with the disappearance of Robbie’s sister, the film is a love letter to the subgenre.
Robbie returns home to his home in the wilds of New Jersey to spend some time with his lonely mother and try to solve the case of what happened to his missing sister, Noelle. His mother speaks of angels, points out any time the lights flicker as a sign from Noelle, and, most upsettingly, sleepwalks, seemingly possessed by her grief. Robbie talks to locals about Noelle and their memories of her. Over time, he begins to see signs from his sister. Soon, the mystery unravels, and Robbie finds himself in the footsteps of his fallen sibling.
What is so effective about TINSMAN ROAD is reminiscent of the first Paranormal Activity film, and otherwise, a very human fear: When night falls, the potential for danger is heightened. Banfitch’s film plays out like a clenched fist around the viewer’s throat, tensing with the moonlight and releasing with the sunrise, over and over again until, eventually, the night and day meld together. The lingering terror consumes the audience, heightened by the excellent sound design that forces you to desperately try to make sense of distant noises. Pray you never hear a fox scream ever again.
It seems crucial to highlight that TINSMAN ROAD deliberately lulls at times, and there are long periods in which little happens. However, it’s all in service of naturalism. TINSMAN ROAD requires a level of patience from its audience that some may be able to muster, but it more than pays off for those who can. Real life is mundane, grief is hopeful, and when we’re scared, real people stop and listen to scary sounds in the dark.
