The longer we live with social media, the more of a subgenre of horror it’s going to generate: as such, it’s little wonder that gaming is having its turn too, whether that be through screenplays based on successful games, or screenplays about gaming itself. Really speaking, although the technology is new, these films bring us stories about real problems clashing with the unreal, often forging links to far older ideas about the supernatural. That brings us to Livescreamers (2023), which is actually a sequel, but that doesn’t matter in terms of understanding the newer film. It’s a lively, interesting spin on its subject matter, familiar in some respects, but innovative in plenty of others.
We meet a group of content creators working for a gamer channel known as Janus Games – Janus, hmm? Founded by Mitch (Ryan LaPlante), and hosted by Zelda (Anna Lin), Nemo (Michael Smallwood), Gwen (Sarah Callahan Black), Jon (Christopher Trindade), Taylor (Coby Oram), Davey and Dice (Evan Michael Pearce; Maddox Julien Slide). On the day we meet them, they are preparing for an online session where they’re going to welcome a fan of the channel onto the stream to play alongside them. This is a big deal for fan Lucy (Neoma Sanchez), who moves between enthusing about her love for Janus Games and worrying about the exact game they’ll be playing together.
This turns out to be a new horror indie, newly available – and there to be road-tested by the team. It’s called House of Souls, and you know what? The graphics which are incorporated into the film are very good indeed, as is the mock gameplay. The team sets about modding their characters, which is a quick way for the film to showcase the care and attention to detail which is on its way, and the tension starts to build as they are each invited to select one help item for use during the game. This being done, they’re in, walking into the prerequisite Old Dark House to try to decipher what’s going on, and indeed how to ‘win’ the game…
Whilst it’s possible to make a guess as to how gameplay and real life are going to cross paths here, all whilst begging a few questions as to the precise details of that crossover, Livescreamers deserves ample credit for the way it splices gamer lore, gamer sociolect, urban legend and myth. There are lots and lots of ideas, well presented and thought out. The use of split screen, in-game footage and what we can assume is an often ad-lib script all work together nicely, perhaps most closely resembling another excellent social media horror, Deadstream (2022), in its use of pace, humour and tone, but doing plenty of its own work too. There’s maybe some Panic Button (2011) in there too, which – although an older title – really did set the bar for the blend between omnipotent social media and unsavoury personal revelations.
Livescreamers has a lot to say about modern gaming, and so is clearly coming from a place of love – and frustration, too, as it talks its way through a range of well-established current annoyances, as well as more significant issues. We get commentary on the sometimes-unpalatable balancing act between integrity and making money, for example, and plenty of commentary on gender and gender/queer issues, which have been tenaciously haunting the world of gaming for years, and don’t look to be going away anytime soon, either. Yes, the use of an increasingly hostile environment to force home truths is a horror cinema staple, whether it’s in a game or not, but the blend of on-camera footage, side footage, gameplay and even analogue media playable by characters inside the game (!) showcase a good range of narrative ideas. The film worries away at character traits and faults at just the right tempo, with a series of reveals along the way. It’s also interesting that the film moves most of its purest horror scenes into the game itself, but it’s decently creepy and works well when it happens.
In terms of bigger social ideas, aside from the gender politics at play, the film also asks questions about fame and what it means, now that it is potentially so accessible to so many people – even people who, once, would have just played games with their closest friends. There are of course lots of pitfalls – actually, quite literally in the world of the game – and Livescreamers explores these in just enough detail, raising questions as well as focusing our attention on certain aspects. It also carries a sense of dark humour throughout.
The world of online gaming is huge, but nonetheless Livescreamers may find its appeal lands best with a comparatively small audience in the grander scheme of things, and that’s okay: it may be a film for one tribe in particular, but given its decent writing, authentic performances and a deft understanding of how to tell a story in ninety neat minutes, it’s a decent, enjoyable horror indie and a successful labour of love from director and writer Michelle Iannantuono.
Livescreamers (2023) is coming to VOD and Blu-ray on September 27th.