The term “cringe” gets thrown a lot these days, more as an adjective than a verb. Standup comics, Youtubers, sketch comedians, podcasters, wannabe influencers embarrassing themselves or putting themselves in uncomfortable situations or making others uncomfortable on purpose …it feels like there’s a never-ending parade of “cringe” creators. Chris Skotchdopole’s Crumb Catcher rises above all of that, achieving a feeling that truly puts to shame the clout chasing nerds on TikTok and Instagram when it comes to making us recoil internally and squirm in our seats.
Crumb Catcher is the story of Shane and Leah, two newlyweds hoping to get away to an isolated lake house for their honeymoon. Their time together is interrupted however by John, a maniacal and cheerful inventor hoping to get them to invest in his latest creation, the mundane and seemingly pointless Crumb Catcher. John’s mania quickly becomes hostile as he demands more and more of the couple, and the film escalates into a surreal nightmare of sex, violence, half assed blackmail, and whole assed buffoonery.
This film’s strength is how it embodies the titular MacGuffin with such power that it makes you question reality. It reminded me of the surrealist horror of novelist Bentley Little who frequently uses a similar device: seemingly mundane objects are given strange unearned weight in the story, made to appear ominous and threatening, and the mania surrounding that object transcends into an unorthodox flavor of horror that when successful is unlike anything else out there. John Speredakos as John the inventor speaks of the Crumb Catcher in such reverent and awed tones it becomes something like a god to him, a looming presence throughout the film that feels like something the rest of the cast is afraid to speak of. I’ve never seen anything else like it done in a film before. The appeal to Americana has a touch of David Lynch to it, but there’s also a hint of Tim Burton’s obsession with kitsch in there that makes it all the more disconcerting. Ultimately the whole film becomes more and more detached from reality until even the most minor details take on an ominous overtone.
Another brilliant source of horror in this film is the concept of decorum being just a suggestion. Even when Shane and Leah are asking John to leave, he keeps a steady patter of excuses that makes them and the audience realize the only way he’s going to leave is if he is actually physically removed from the premises, something few people are prepared to do with unwanted guests. It makes us deeply meditate upon a somewhat simple premise: what do you do when someone simply…refuses to leave your house? Call the cops? Sure, but even that is tremendously awkward. The American idea of non-confrontation is deftly challenged in this movie, revealing that all that really keeps such characters in line is an unspoken adherence to the social contract that is only as strong as hope it to be.
Speredakos might not be the protagonist of the film but his performance does most of the heavy lifting. I was reminded of Steve Coogan’s depiction of Tony Wilson in 24 Hour Party People but just gone horribly wrong, a ceaseless stream of sales pitch that leaves the viewer bewildered and uncomfortable. The film forces us into the house with him, and indeed we feel like we’re trapped in a room with a wild animal that’s docile now but at any second could turn and maul us. It’s like the hitchhiker scene in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and the horror of not knowing what’s going to happen next, a nerve-wracking trip into some strange hell with a Cheshire cat grinned salesman as your guide.
Crumb Catcher is a weird, weird movie, and it will likely make you want to turn away more than once. It’s the kind of film that starts rubbing your face in something that at first, you’re like ‘okay what are they doing here’ but soon you’re ready to vomit out of disgust and revulsion, like waking up to see a centipede on your wall a few inches from your face.
