Rating: D
Dir: David Fowler
Star: Matthew MacCaull, Taylor Dianne Robinson, Ben Cotton, Cindy Busby
I was going to start off by saying this isn’t a movie you so much watch, as cling to the side of, desperately seeking a hand-hold. However, that’s too generous. It’s more the sort of film you plummet down, eagerly anticipating the sweet release into oblivion when you smack into the ground. I can’t remember the last time I was so genuinely relieved to see the end credits roll. It’s a mess. After about thirty minutes, it goes off the rails completely, and ceases to make any sense. I kept hoping it was going to regain some kind of coherence. It does not, and my main thought was, how the fuck did this shit get financed?
Especially directed by someone like Fowler, whose IMDb list of narrative feature credits is, I kid you not, shorter than mine. This clearly wasn’t a cheap production. It’s decently shot and has some performances which are… Well, “good” is a stretch: let’s go with “appropriate to the material”. Was it a vanity project? Because I cannot imagine any prospective producer reading a script filled with gobbledygook like, “It’s real to those people in the circle. To those girls in that circle, those fake people in that circle are real,” and going, take my money. More weirdly still, it’s currently streaming for free on Kino Lorber’s YouTube channel (with a dismal 2,400 views as I write). I wonder how much they paid for those rights? Whatever the amount, they got gypped.
Oh, the plot? On a camping trip, Greg (MacCaull) and daughter Samantha (Robinson) are attacked by a bear. They’re rescued by the titular spiritual group, who have names like Lotus Cloud, wear creepy masks, don’t blink enough, and leave mannequins just lying around their facility. It doesn’t take long for Greg to realize his hosts are several picnics short of a sandwich, in a highly ominous way. There’s also Grady, who was born into the group, and is now a cult deprogrammer, hired to extract a man’s wife from The Circle. He ends up partnering with Samantha, after Greg… Yeah, that was the point at which my understanding of the story transformed into a giant, neon question-mark, never to be switched off.
It seems Fowler’s experience is mostly writing narration for Disney wildlife documentaries like Dolphin Reef. Though his online presence is almost suspiciously small. I couldn’t find any written interviews with him at all. Which is odd: debut directors love nothing more than discussing their baby, and will usually talk the ear off, of anyone who makes the mistake of pausing in their zip-code. He has made nothing since either. My working theory is, Fowler doesn’t exist, and this is a recruitment video for a real secret society called The Circle. Those who understand it – which rules me right out – qualify for lifetime membership. Decipher its hidden messages, and you too can win a first-class seat on the mothership, when Comet Halle-Bopp next swings through the solar system.