Judging by his director’s statement, Chris Skotchdopole had bigger ideas for the allegorical “Crumb Catcher” than his messy debut feature pulls off. That won’t matter to the right audience who, when self-selected, ought to resemble a perfect Venn diagram of Eli Roth’s “Knock Knock” fans and apologists for Michael Haneke’s American “Funny Games” remake.
This bizarre four-hander drama turned psychological thriller — about newlyweds harassed on their honeymoon by a shady couple hocking a mysterious culinary invention — doesn’t quite match the filmmaker’s lofty ambition to say something…anything…that hasn’t already been said about marital malaise and the American Dream. Still, there’s a tasteful sort of nausea contained in Skotchdopole’s sloppy blackmail plot as chunky as it is tragicomic. Set mostly inside a nondescript rental home in upstate New York, this incohesive experiment in escalating tensions and false niceties will whet the appetite of anyone craving to be made both very uncomfortable and just a little bored.
Leah (Ella Rae Peck) and Shane (Rigo Garay) hate each other. The bride and groom might not know it yet, stiffly posing for wedding pictures and enduring the verbal encouragement of a photographer who strangely sounds like an “America’s Next Top Model” producer. The husband and wife save face, but a sea of silver wedding gifts and partygoers part to reveal a Happily Ever After saturated with arguments. Leah is a publisher working on Shane’s first book, which, for various reasons, he no longer wants to release. The author is struggling with the specter of alcoholism that ruined his relationship with his father, who Shane says wasn’t invited to the wedding — during which Shane himself blacked out — because of Leah. Asked about their story, the spouses can’t agree if it was love at first sight. And when complaining about wedding planning after the fact, Leah is pissed as hell when Shane says they should have eloped. Oh, and you know this will be important: Their car sucks.
The cloud of wedding-mandated politeness surrounding Leah and Shane’s misery is suffocating, but it’s not any more noxious than their caustic lack of chemistry, which trails close behind as the couple ventures out for a vacation in the Adirondacks. Skotchdopole either has an issue writing believable dialogue — he included more of his actors’ improv than was wise — or the writer/director genuinely wants us to dislike these leads. Regardless, it’s not until Leah and Shane are forced to team up and battle the arrival of some unwelcome guests that anything about them as people — let alone love interests — starts to connect. Not for lack of effort, the situationally obligatory sex scenes complete with lingerie are painfully, maybe even intentionally, forced to the point of inducing premature squirms.
Enter John (John Speredakos). An overly attentive cater waiter and self-proclaimed entrepreneur, he’s a bombastic go-getter who shows up at Leah and Shane’s with too many apologies and a wedding cake he says was involved in a mix-up at their reception. Flanked by his creepy girlfriend Rose (Lorraine Farris), John makes himself at home with the kind of toothy salesmanship typically reserved for car salesmen and timeshare presentations. Despite Leah and Shane’s pleas, the quiet home invasion rapidly morphs into a kind of twisted double date with Rose and John calling all the shots. At the outset, only the threat of violence looms, but it’s no surprise when someone pulls out a gun.
Ostensibly, the film’s dramatic question — what do these people want? — finds its answer in John and Rose’s mysterious rocket-red invention. When the titular Crumb Catcher™ is presented to Leah and Shane as an opportunity for investment, Skotchdopole achieves a hugely disturbing confrontation that makes a meal out of what works. With spit flying from his lips and delusions so grand they could make even a politician blush, Speredakos chews through his scenes like a speed-eater. The actor would be even more menacing with sharper material, but as John pushes Shane and Leah to talk over his “conversation piece,” there’s an undeniable viciousness to his prodding that makes the night erupt. As the delicately unhinged Rose grows more impatient, the stakes heighten, and every silent hostility becomes screamingly apparent.
Subverting only some expectations, often with a misplaced emphasis on the mundane, “Crumb Catcher” might have been better as a short. This bouillabaisse of anxious politeness, misguided aspirations, and toxic codependence does indeed overstay its welcome — culminating in a useless action sequence that doesn’t just require a suspension of disbelief but asks you to check absolutely everything you have ever known about human body chemistry at the door. That misstep soon dovetails into a wooden conclusion that, for better or worse, feels holistically unearned. Still, with a distinct POV, strong visual design, and the ability to see his strange slow-burn vision of semi-realistic domestic torture all the way through, Skotchdopole serves up a strong enough debut that he should someday get a shot at making another. Seriously, crazier things have come out of crumbs.
Grade: C+
“Crumb Catcher” comes to select theaters on Friday, July 19.
