Sunday, June 26, 2022

In short: Dashcam (2021)

The height of the pandemic. Anti-vax conspiracy nonsense screeching, MAGA-hat-wearing “musician” and live streamer of crap Annie Hardy (Annie Hardy, who hopefully isn’t playing herself) decides to fly to Britain to torture her old bandmate/touring buddy Stretch (Amar Chadha-Patel) who, one supposes, has attempted to get as far away from her as possible, with a surprise visit.

Eventually, when Stretch’s girlfriend is fed up with her bullshit, Hardy ends up stealing his car and is very randomly (aka the plotting doesn’t give a crap about coherence) hired to transport a mysteriously ill woman somewhere. Demonic shenanigans, even more bad scatological rapping and much waving of the camera ensues.

I wasn’t quite as enamoured of Rob Savage’s first COVID POV horror piece Host as most people seem to have been, seeing it as a perfectly okay film whose main claim to fame was being exactly of its moment while lacking in any kind of substance worth mentioning or thinking about.

Dashcam on the other hand is one of the worst films I have seen in a long time, apparently made in the belief that having its audience spend an hour in the grating one-note presence of the worst person in the world egged on by a scrolling chat of trolls you’ll soon stop reading because it’s just monotonous (and if you want to read this crap, you know where to find it) is of some worth. Part of this…thing is probably meant as a satire on the real-world versions of people like Hardy, but it’s the sort of “satire” that stops at pointing out that somebody is horrible and then does nothing whatsoever with it. It’s also never, not for a single damn line, funny – most certainly not as funny as it clearly thinks it is.

Why is Annie so shitty? Why did she become this way? The film doesn’t know, doesn’t tell, doesn’t care, and instead repeats the same beats of crappy behaviour again and again and again ad nauseum, with no actual characterisation, character development or even vague sense of humanity included.

Watching a woman be a potty-mouthed shit for an hour is pretty grating, but it’s neither interesting nor insightful, nor does it for a movie make. Horrible person is horrible, news at eleven. Once the supernatural horror parts of the movie start, the film adds short bursts of blood and incessant blurry camera shaking most backyard filmmakers would find too excessive, improving exactly nothing.

At least this abomination is mercifully short – even shorter when one is wise enough to stop this garbage before Annie gets into another session of scatology during the ending credits. I can’t help but think this was made by people who a) believe they are much funnier than they actually are and b) hate anybody stupid enough to inflict this on themselves.

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