Justin Janowitz’s spellbinding feature debut, Do Not Watch, follows the tradition of cursed footage like 2018’s Antrum or 2022’s Incantation. Subliminal messages are baked into Ryan Toyama’s screenplay and imprinted onto the screen. Traditional barriers between screens and their audiences are shattered; characters plead with us to do what the title commends. Do Not Watch isn’t without shortcomings, but tantalizes as an innovative reinvention of found footage capabilities.

Toyama’s screenplay bounces between multiple timelines infected by the same film canister. An introductory info dump reads: “What you are about to witness is a compilation of the events surrounding the disappearance of a post-production crew as they worked on research footage from the 1980s.” Clips cycle around the mentioned post-production crew who works at Illusion Post, the supposed cursed footage of researchers in a bunker from the ‘80s, and the documentarians trying to unearth the truth about what happened to the Illusion Post crew. There are clear divides between contemporary digital photography versus ’80s VHS quality until the film collapses in on itself as intended. We pressed play; we asked for what happens next.

Do Not Watch feels like how Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead might approach a found footage feature (their V/H/S: Viral segment “Bonestorm” notwithstanding). It’s cerebral, unparalleled, and boundless. We aren’t watching a horror movie — we’re part of one. Scenes are interrupted by this unseen entity that speaks through flashes of text that warn us or respond to character dialogue with dire messages. There’s a provocative mania to the uncontrollable nature of Janowitz’s direction, which he uses to his advantage. Do Not Watch spins out of control the closer it gets to (fictional) reveals with such a gripping psychosis, which may be too experimental for some, but rewards viewers who dig its vibe with a psychologically twisted sensory overload like we’re sucked into a sinister video vortex.

Janowitz and Toyama take massive swings with Do Not Watch, but their production can’t always keep stride. Character development stays light, like Illusion Post employee Leslie (Catherine Corcoran) having no personality beyond “the fun one” or weaker emotional deliveries from sources who struggle to find screen time. The invisible menace burrowed inside Do Not Watch is always the most compelling character, negatively impacting our investment in human players caught within the footage’s hypnotic dread. So much can be said about the radio signal noises, feedback loops, and filmmaking techniques turning into terrifying accents — but those in need of deeper storytelling dedication may feel let down. The same goes for anyone hoping to see pristine special effects because the undeniably low-budget affair doesn’t deliver jaw-dropping digital animations upon the film’s climax.

There’s just too much going on in terms of plotting. Illusion Post’s first-time head editor, Casey (Ezekiel Ajeigbe), interviews his coworkers for a video that he’ll someday show his parents. Casey lets us into the disaster within his company’s walls as they’re forced to turn the 1980s bunker footage into an incredible exposé — which is the topic of an unnamed director’s (Alix Angelis) own truth-bomb of a documentary. All that, in addition to watching Dr. Sommerfeld (John Henry Richardson) and his ’80s-trapped associates confront the mysteries of a presumably unlockable laboratory door. The flips between eras and timelines are cleanly executed, but nothing plays exceptionally in-depth as the film blurs lines between each investigation. That’s part of the allure — unmitigated chaos — but also undercooked regarding narrative stability.

That said, Do Not Watch is too exciting of an exploration into found footage executions to ignore. Janowitz invites his viewers to be part of the production and pulls off that magic trick with a highly participatory appeal. Do Not Watch feels like something we’ve purchased off the dark web, ready to ruin our lives with its filmic voodoo. Despite its technical blemishes, sometimes stiff performances, and low-budget restrictions, Janowitz put a spell on me with his first feature. A lotta originality goes a long way with this possessed take on found footage.

Do Not Watch played at Unnamed Footage Festival 2024.