DASHCAM

The blurry, jerky photography is a bit annoying, but the supreme irritant is the woman herself, a childish, potty-mouthed American visitor to the UK.

Dashcam, unlike few films, relies on your annoyance.

Dashcam makes a good point: when the whole world’s coming at you through a screen, it becomes increasingly hard to tell the difference between life and entertainment.

The point of Dashcam seems to be its timely pointlessness.

Dashcam is a structural mess hampered by a loathsome lead character called Annie Hardy who is — get this — “played” by the American indie rocker Annie Hardy.

Savage does a remarkably good job of staging shocking and gory horror sequences within his “shot on the fly on a cellphone” gimmick.

For better or for worse, Savage treats Dashcam like the first and only opportunity he’ll have a budget and scope like this at his disposal—with a lead and pacing that’ll test the limits of even the strongest found-footage diehards.

DASHCAM is an anarchic disappointment. It has the bloody brigades for gorehounds, except it is haunted by poor camerawork and a completely unlikeable main character.

While we've seen plenty of antiheroes over the years and a flurry of "unlikable" female characters in the wake of Fleabag, Annie takes the concept to a whole other level.

Dashcam is a mainstream horror film that’s very much in the tradition of other punk exploitation filmmakers like Lloyd Kaufman and his Troma group, a shock rock-style movie that’s brazenly and irresponsibly controversial.