Catfish

Posted on January 3, 2011 at 8:00 am

B+
Lowest Recommended Age: High School
MPAA Rating: Rated PG-13 for some sexual references
Profanity: Some sexual references and mild language
Alcohol/ Drugs: None
Violence/ Scariness: Tense scenes, reference to sad death
Diversity Issues: Disabled characters
Date Released to Theaters: September 17, 2010
Date Released to DVD: January 3, 2011
Amazon.com ASIN: B003Q6D1YW

Let’s say you’re a guy. And the girl you really like has finally agreed to go out with you. You’re at the restaurant ordering pizza. And she says her favorite pizza is Hawaiian, with pineapple. The idea makes you feel a little queasy; normally you order pepperoni. What do you say? On a first date, isn’t it likely to be, “Sounds great!” And you hope someday you’ll be telling your grandchildren the funny story of your first date with Grammy, and how you either discovered that you loved pineapple on your pizza or that three months later, when you were finally comfortable enough with the girl to tell her how you really felt, she laughed and confessed that she wasn’t really interested in college basketball as she had pretended to be on that same first date. So you may not have pineapple pizza and the NCAA in common, but you have something even more important — you both cared enough about making the relationship work to create some superficial commonality while the more important connection was building.

Now let’s say you’re online. There are two reasons online attachments get intensely personal so quickly. The first is the capacity of the internet to connect you to the one other person in the world who cares as passionately as you do about not just pineapple pizza but pineapple pizza with pesto-encrusted pineapple slices and fontina cheese. That connection is so immediately validating that you can’t help feeling that whatever else you have in common is enormously significant and whatever you don’t doesn’t matter. The second reason is that online communication is like a Rorschach test; we project onto all the empty spaces all the things we subconsciously want to see there, unable to realize how much of what we see comes from our own minds. Which brings me to a third reason — they work because we want them to. They are the perfect fantasy relationship, creating the illusion of intimacy without the risk because we have control over what we send back. Until we don’t, when it stops working and fantasy relationships lead to real-life heartbreak.

And yes, there is a movie review here, not just a meditation on the pleasures and perils of online relationships. But it is hard to talk about the movie directly without giving too much away. So, I’m going to tell you as much as I think is fair and then, after you’ve seen it, send me an email at moviemom@moviemom.com and if you’d like to see the rest of my review, I’ll send it to you.

Nev (pronounced Neev) is a young, New York-based photographer whose brother, Rel, is a film-maker. Rel and his partner Henry Joost, started filming Nev as he opened a package from someone who had seen one of his photos. The gift, a painting from a little girl inspired by the photograph, led to connections online via Facebook — the little girl’s mother Angela and sister Megan and their relatives and friends, all in Michigan. Nev began talking to them on the phone and texting them, getting caught up in the daily details of their lives, and growing increasingly attached to Megan. And then, when he began to have some doubts, Nev went to Michigan to see them, bringing Rel, Joost, and the camera along.

What happens then is a haunting exploration of identity, intimacy, desire, and the temptations of online relationships. Whatever you expect, the movie will surprise you. And if you want the rest of my review, send me an email.

Related Tags:

 

Documentary DVD/Blu-Ray Pick of the Week

Interview: Nev and Rel Schulman and Henry Joost of ‘Catfish’

Posted on September 26, 2010 at 3:48 pm

Manhattan film-makers Rel Schulman and Henry Joost had no idea what movie they were making when they turned their camera on Rel’s brother Nev as he opened up a package sent to him from a little girl he had never met.
In a world where technology makes possible and culture makes acceptable the idea of everyone’s starring in some sort of reality show documentary, Rel and Henry were used to filming whatever was going on around them. In this case, that happened to be Nev’s increasing involvement via Facebook, telephone, and texting with an 8-year old girl named Abby, her mother Angela and half-sister Megan, and and their extended family and friends. And then, when Nev began to doubt the authenticity of the stories he was being told, the movie began to be about his impulsive journey to Michigan to see for himself who was on the other side of the digital connection.
The movie is called Catfish and it is a surprise critical and box office hit.
I spoke to them in Washington, D.C. and yes, they were filming their tour here for a possible documentary about the fame and fortune their movie was bringing them. They recorded me as I recorded them. Henry told me that he believes everyone has a story that could become a documentary. He says he and Rel would like to make feature films as well, but that they will always make documentaries. I asked him whether getting to know someone on Facebook was different from the selective revelations of the early stages of any romance. He said, “Yes. It’s digital; it’s binary. You either like something or you don’t. There’s no in between. You determine the way you are presented There’s none of that ambiguity of eye contact and body language and things you pick up in person when you are with someone. You pick this photo or that photo.”
Rel said that even as friends gathered regularly to hear updates on Nev’s developing online romance with Megan, they did not think of that relationship as the story of the film until the night in Vail, Colorado, when the discrepancies in her stories began to make them wonder who it was that Nev was falling for.
I talked with Nev about his hesitation in committing to both the film and the romance.
In the film you seem to be ambivalent about being in a movie. At what point did you really agree to commit to it?
Nev: Not until a couple of weeks before Sundance. I agreed by default in the sense that I share an office and at the time an apartment with my brother. That’s the nature of being friends with those guys. The cameras are on and if you are around them, you might be in their next short film.
But officially I hadn’t agreed. I always held that trump card. I wanted to wait and see how it turned out because I was so unsure what it would look like, so it wasn’t until a couple of weeks before Sundance that I really signed off on it and said, “here’s my signature.” I was a little concerned and nervous about the movie coming out. I certainly didn’t expect that it would get into Sundance or that it would get bought. In a way this is even stranger than the story in the movie itself. You can’t write something like this; it just has to happen.
How closely were Rel and Henry following the development of your relationship with Abby and her family?
They didn’t really know just how involved I had been with the whole experience. I only told them about certain things, funny emails, the paintings that were arriving. They weren’t aware of how emotionally involved I had become because they were busy with other things like a ballet film for PBS. This was a side project that they occasionally paid attention to. I don’t think even they knew there was a movie there until we got back from Vail . They said, “that was intense, but how do we tell that story?” I said, “There’s a lot you don’t know about.” I gave them access to my emails and texts and with that and the clips from the last nine months, they said they had enough.
What did they shoot that didn’t make it into the film?
They also did a lot of interviews, talking heads, that never made it into the film. My mom was concerned for me at the beginning of this, thinking there was something they wanted to get out of me. She reached out to Angela early on. First she was pursuing their concerns and then it was about whether their children’s romantic involvement was a good idea.
I was one of the early members when you first had to have an .edu email address. And before that it was myspace and friendster. I’m the first generation to grow up on these websites. And that is why I’m more susceptible than younger kids are. When the internet was new, it felt like very official and real and genuine. The internet’s at that crucial moment now where people are beginning to question whether what they see is real.
I was as much in love as I could have been under the circumstances. What the film speaks to is the desire to get out of your situation. I had only dated city girls and lived in a crazy urban jungle. And the internet gives you the opportunity to get in touch with people beyond your realm. Looking back, I see just how tailor-made every character was for me. She made a girl based on the pieces of the puzzle I gave her. The danger of online profiles is that you surrender so much of yourself so easily and it makes it easy for someone to say, “I also love all that stuff.”
What was your Facebook experience before you became involved with the Michigan “friends?”
I was one of the early members when you first had to have an .edu email address. And before that it was myspace and friendster. I’m the first generation to grow up on these websites. And that is why I’m more susceptible than younger kids are. When the internet was new, it felt like very official and real and genuine. The internet’s at that crucial moment now where people are beginning to question whether what they see is real.
Did you and do you think you were in love with Megan?
I came back from the trip very depressed and angry. But I realized it was me breaking my own heart and distracting myself from a real relationship with real investment. I’ve been through a lot of stuff, always my fault, and sometimes with consequences. I put myself on the line but I did it in a way that I knew I was putting myself at risk so it wasn’t totally a surprise in some way. I was so lucky with a supportive family that it made it a lot easier to come back and not feel completely lost and heartbroken.
How did it affect you to have a very personal story become so public?
I would have probably learned a lot less about what it meant and why it happened and been less self-reflective and therapeutic if I had not had the opportunity to watch it so closely on film. It has been an incredible growing experience. How often do you get to relive your most vulnerable nine months of your life and then talk about it? Every time I answer a question about the movie I think about it and reconsider it and connect with people and learn from their stories. I’ve become a sort of Facebook philosopher. But of course I don’t recommend to anyone making a movie of your most intense and emotional experience.
Is this experience so different from getting to know someone in real life?
This kind of thing does happen in person, though. You meet someone and then find out they’re married or that they have a past you don’t find acceptable.
On a first date, you’re seeing the best of someone. Six months later…
********
Spoiler alert! Continue reading only if you have seen the movie!

(more…)

Related Tags:

 

Behind the Scenes Interview Spoiler Alert
THE MOVIE MOM® is a registered trademark of Nell Minow. Use of the mark without express consent from Nell Minow constitutes trademark infringement and unfair competition in violation of federal and state laws. All material © Nell Minow 1995-2024, all rights reserved, and no use or republication is permitted without explicit permission. This site hosts Nell Minow’s Movie Mom® archive, with material that originally appeared on Yahoo! Movies, Beliefnet, and other sources. Much of her new material can be found at Rogerebert.com, Huffington Post, and WheretoWatch. Her books include The Movie Mom’s Guide to Family Movies and 101 Must-See Movie Moments, and she can be heard each week on radio stations across the country.

Website Designed by Max LaZebnik