HANGMAN

Imagine you left your well-deserved holiday with your family. Picture someone getting into your car parked at the airport. Imagine this person then found your house with the help of GPS and broke in. Picture him leaving a crude “Hangman” drawing in your bathroom and stringing up a mannequin in your closet. Imagine he hid tiny cameras all around the house. And now picture him watching every step you take, every one of your intimate moments, every argument, every time you have sex, every dinner and that’s not even the most terrifying detail of this massively disturbing story. Strangers breaking into your own home, the threat intruding on the familiar, that’s the essence of the home invasion genre, but rarely has it been so well executed as in Adam Mason’s goose pimple thriller “Hangman”. Another example of the fact that the deceptive term “found footage” describes not so much a short lived trend, as a genuine shift of our perceived (and perceptible) world. The permanent observation of our inner core and our resulting ultra-vulnerability becomes the device on which a perfidious tale is suspended that resonates for a very long time. Prepare to sift through your whole flat tonight, just to make sure you’re alone.