REVIEW: ‘Bodycam’ Is A Brief But Relentless Found Footage Nightmare

Bodycam is the latest in what seems to be a found footage horror boom. With the V/H/S franchise going annual, Man Finds Tape finding new ways to play with the genre, and even mostly traditional narratives like Shelby Oaks playing with the format, there’s never been a better time to make a found footage movie.

Writer/director Brandon Christensen (Z, Night of the Reaper) adds his own spin on the evergreen horror sub-genre. Shot from police bodycams, the appropriately titled Bodycam warps urban landscapes into an occult nightmare, creating a compact rollercoaster ride of a horror film that sacrifices detailed character work and social commentary in pursuit of relentless atmosphere.

Officer Jackson (Jaime Callica) and Officer Bryce (Sean Rogerson) are on a routine patrol when they receive a call about a domestic dispute. Going into one of the rougher neighborhoods of their city, Jackson and Bryce enter the home to find that this is not at all a normal welfare check. Bryce makes a split-second, fear-based call that leaves two bodies. Bryce scrambles to cover up what he’s done as Jackson reluctantly goes along. However, as they race to get ahead of Bryce’s misdeeds, it becomes clear that something supernatural is controlling the area, its homeless population, and soon enough, Officers Jackson and Bryce if they don’t act quickly.

Bodycam wastes no time putting its characters through the ringer.

Bodycam wastes no time. At a crisp 75-minute runtime, Brandon Christensen’s instincts for pacing are excellent, with every frame contributing to the film in a significant way, where each moment builds on the last. Better than his instincts there is the aesthetic conceit that Bodycam operates under. The lo-fi body camera is an inspired lens to set a film through, as its technical limitations allow a lot to be obscured, letting the mind run wild.

Moreover, the technology adds a built-in authenticity that most found-footage movies aim for but rarely achieve. Christensen and cinematographer Clayton Moore are smart enough never to break from their chosen format, releasing the audience from the burden of having to suspend their disbelief too much.

The characters within Bodycam feel real as well, yet not interesting enough to leave much of an impression. Despite Jaime Callica’s affable nature, his Officer Jackson doesn’t really stick. Other than Brandon and Ryan Christensen‘s screenplay giving breadcrumbs of his backstory, there’s not much here other than a generic “hero” cop.

The lo-fi visuals help immerse the viewer into the horror that’s unfolding.

The “bad” cop of the story, Bryce, fares a bit better, thanks to being the one who takes the action that kicks off the story and to Sean Rogerson not going too overboard with the smarm. Ultimately, though, it feels very clear that these are devices to tell the story rather than characters to fully invest in. At least when it comes to acting scared, Callica and Rogerson are both total professionals, selling Bodycam‘s biggest moments. 

On a social commentary front, Bodycam fares a bit better. The obvious nugget to glean here is police corruption, as displayed by the inciting incident and its subsequent cover-up attempt. Additionally, the way Bryce describes the rougher areas of the city rings true to how many in the police force view residents of lower-income areas. As the story enters more supernatural territory, the commentary gives way to a pure horror experience, though that’s not necessarily a bad thing. 

Bodycam has the goods when it comes to horror imagery. The reality around Officers Bryce and Jackson slowly starts to deteriorate. The image of unhoused “tweakers,” as Bryce calls them, standing perfectly still and staring at our protagonists is enough to send chills down the spine. Brandon Christensen successfully keeps the audience on their toes through an inspired melding of a dilapidated urban environment and the occult.

As the line between worlds blurs together, Christensen takes some wild swings in visual imagery.

As the lines between those worlds blur and sanity starts to slip, Bodycam achieves a moment-to-moment, visceral hold that only horror games are usually able to achieve. A scene where one of the characters is trying to drive to safety, only for the same house to keep reappearing over and over again, is the kind of iconography that will keep its viewers up at night. Impressively, Bodycam goes just far enough with its supernatural elements, getting really out there without destroying the film’s reality more than it intends. 

Bodycam might be short and light on character, but it uses the found-footage genre to its fullest. A 75-minute ride that enthusiasts of the sub-genre are sure to take to, Bodycam marks another notch in the belt of Shudder’s ever-expanding original programming. 

Bodycam is available now exclusively on Shudder.