Real life may be stranger than fiction, as is the case with Tinsman Road, but there’s a certain style and pacing to the hyperreality of film that makes it much more interesting to watch. Sure, on some level we all know that people don’t actually talk the way they do in movies, and even die-hard action fans are aware that cops spend more time filing paperwork than getting into car chases, but we accept these excesses in order to get to the emotional truth of a story a little faster.
That’s why found footage is such a fascinating genre, as it’s a technique that requires relinquishing so many of these artificial tools in favor of authenticity. As a found footage enthusiast myself, I’ve long come to the conclusion that, while shooting in this format is almost always cheaper than investing in studio lighting and shot-reverse-shots, it’s also invariably a lot harder – at least if you’re doing it right.
I recently found myself thinking about these inherent difficulties of the genre when I had the pleasure of watching Robbie Banfitch’s sophomore feature, the criminally underseen Tinsman Road. A deceptively simple “home movie”, this lo-fi experiment had me fascinated by how masterfully Banfitch wielded a remarkably limited toolset. It’s a masterclass in cinematic minimalism.
Robbie Banfitch first rose to notoriety back in 2022 with the release of his divisive debut film The Outwaters. A surreal examination of the power of suggestion within found footage, this weird little movie had just as many fans calling it a masterpiece as it did detractors accusing it of being one of the worst films ever made. Though I personally didn’t connect with The Outwaters, even I could see the potential behind some of Robbie’s creative decisions, and that’s why I eventually decided to give Tinsman Road a chance.
This second film was a much more intimate project that began production immediately after The Outwaters as an attempt to decompress after a comparatively larger and more scripted endeavor. That’s why Tinsman Road has more in common with a personal video diary than a traditional horror movie. As its story suggests, the film was shot on location in New Jersey as Banfitch briefly returned to his roots, with nearly the entire production relying on existing locations and non-actors. In fact, out of the twelve cast members, a whopping nine of them are related to the director, with his own mother giving a standout performance.
Of course, the film’s nature as a 2000s-set period piece means that there’s still some level of simulation going on here. Not only is the entire thing shot on standard-definition mini-DV tapes, but the story also forgoes smartphones and online resources that could have made its characters’ lives a little easier. While these elements obviously enhance the flick’s atmosphere, I’m of the opinion that this nostalgic approach is also meant to engage with the story’s themes of coming home and dealing with the past – which is arguably what the director did in real life when he set out to make a DIY movie in his hometown.
In the finished film, which had its festival premiere in March of 2025, we follow Banfitch himself as “Robbie Lyle”, a young filmmaker who moves back in with his grieving mother (Leslie Ann Banfitch) years after the mysterious disappearance of his musically inclined sister Noelle. When Leslie reveals that she has been feeling Noelle’s ghostly presence around the house, Robbie decides to shoot a documentary meant to process the family’s loss and find out what really happened to his sister. Unfortunately, Robbie’s home movie ends up unearthing more than he bargained for as the locals catch wind of his little project.
At first glance, this may seem like a standard ghost story where paranormal activity leads to Robbie finding his long-lost sister, but Tinsman Road does things a bit differently than your standard found footage narrative. By insisting on realistic depictions of grief and family trauma, Banfitch has crafted an incredibly moody (not to mention believable) character study that rewards viewer patience.
It’s actually easy to mistake the film for being completely devoid of narrative depth if you don’t pay close attention to certain details. Much like real life, a lot of essential information here is conveyed through implied dialogue and subtle clues, and much of what you absorb only really pays off during the final twenty minutes or so of the experience. While this indirect approach might have come off as frustrating in another production, the DIY qualities of Tinsman Road make it feel like you’re actually engaging with a real mystery as you attempt to understand what’s really going on beneath the surface.
The only caveat is that getting to that satisfying final act requires a non-trivial amount of commitment from the viewer. Even as a huge fan of the experience, I still think that Banfitch could have left an additional 15 minutes behind on the cutting room floor, and your own mileage may vary depending on how much depressing family drama you’re willing to deal with before we get to the actual horror.
A friend of mine actually described the experience as “what if The Blair Witch Project contained an hour of Heather moping about her family life before finally heading into the woods?” While this is a rather mean-spirited comparison, especially since the family issues are the entire point of Banfitch’s film, it’s not that far from the truth.
That being said, while Tinsman Road is more of a somber mood piece than a traditional scary movie, it does manage to touch on some of the same elements that made films like The Blair Witch Project so successful in the first place – elements that many of that film’s imitators have failed to reproduce over the years.
To put it simply, as far as found footage is concerned, the best way to simulate something is usually to just do it for real. From actually inhabiting a certain time and place to making use of interesting-looking townsfolk, found footage movies work better when real life is allowed to interfere with the script. That’s why it’s so easy to fall down Tinsman Road’s rabbit hole and accept these events as reality. And the deeper you go, the more you’ll find curious details like how the flick’s “Shades of Death” Road is a real paranormal hotspot frequently visited by investigators (don’t even get me started on real vanishings in the backwoods of New Jersey).
I won’t get into spoilers, but connecting the dots between Noelle’s eerie music/homemade album art and the details behind her disappearance is a deeply satisfying process that results in the same kind of chill you get when researching a disturbing topic online and slowly realizing that the truth is much stranger than you originally imagined.
At the end of the day, Tinsman Road is a decidedly slow burn that won’t appeal to every kind of horror fan, but I appreciate how it allows viewers to flex their own investigative muscles as they inhabit a brooding rendition of the mid-2000s. And if you agree to play by the film’s rules, I think you’ll also find that this is one of the most underrated Found Footage experiences in years.
However, if you do decide to embark on this investigation, please keep in mind that it’s always a bad idea to hike alone in New Jersey.
