It Doesn't Get Any Better Than This

"It Doesn't Get Any Better Than This" presents itself as a quirky, original piece of horror-comedy, blending unsettling imagery with dark humor in a way that feels deliberately off-kilter. The film certainly succeeds in evoking discomfort, taking the viewer on a bizarre, almost surreal journey. Its tone often veers between unnerving tension and absurdist humor, resulting in a kind of unpredictability that keeps the audience both on edge and amused.

However, while the film's creative direction is undeniably unique, the main characters and creators themselves become a significant drawback. Their childishness, often exaggerated to the point of absurdity, feels less like an intentional quirk and more like a barrier to empathy. Their obnoxious behavior throughout the movie, paired with self-indulgent humor, distances them from the audience, making it difficult to care about their fate. Rather than being endearingly flawed, they are grating, testing the viewer's patience as they stumble through situations with little self-awareness or growth.

As the film progresses, the tension that comes from rooting for the protagonists in a horror movie shifts. Instead of hoping for their survival, one might find themselves eagerly awaiting their demise. The characters' lack of likability makes it hard to engage emotionally with the story, transforming their inevitable end into a moment of relief rather than dread.

That said, the film excels in its atmosphere and its ability to build discomfort through strange, offbeat scenarios. The direction and set design are stylish and imaginative, creating an eerie ambiance that complements the film's twisted narrative. Yet, the promising setup is constantly undercut by the obnoxious personalities of its leads.

In the end, "It Doesn't Get Any Better Than This" is a peculiar experience-one that leaves you entertained yet frustrated. While the creative aspects are commendable, the main characters, unfortunately, make the movie feel like an exercise in tolerance rather than horror.

I'll start by saying that I'm fan of found footage horror. The releastic eeriness of these films always tends to work for me. I thought this one had a good story, a unique vibe, and there were moments that left me truly unsettled.

It focuses on a married couple who are representing their true-life identities as horror-loving weirdos who create their own films and books. They buy a ramshackle urban house, solely for the purpose of shooting their movies, and perform a seance with a friend during a debaucherous New Years Eve party of three. From there, the story goes into some interesting places that are far cry from traditional haunting scenarios.

Rachel Kempf, whether she was portraying her true self or not, was a shrill and intense person. Very loud with lots of manic energy. My friend, who saw the film with me, found her very annoying. At one point she leaned over and said, "I can't stand her!" For me, I felt all of that manic energy was a setup for when we she finally succombed to the fear and confusion from all of the unexplainable things happening to she and her husband.

I also enjoyed the setting of the film. It takes place in a small city in the middle of nowhere in Missouri. This location was portrayed as a forgotten and abandoned area. The cold, sparse, pseudo urban/industrial neighborhood where the story took place certainly it's own creepiness.

I fell hook, line, and sinker for the advertisment claiming the film would be a theater-only experience and would never be streamed online. I'm glad I saw it in the theater and would probably go again.

It Doesn't Get Any Better Than This is effectively one couple's passion project.

A "film" made completely on a whim.

With virtually no budget.

Little writing.

And no plan around which it is shaped.

That is...if you can even call it a film.

It might, more accurately, be qualified as "Video Art".

Because as a film- to put it bluntly- it's complete trash.

In fact, it's probably the worst film I've ever seen (and I've watched some real stinkers).

Mainly because it's an incoherent narrative mess.

But that's not to say it doesn't have value as an immersive, interactive, experience.

The directorial duo- of Nick and Rachel- have stated, outright, that the only way you'll ever be able to see this film...is in theatres (which makes a lot of sense, when you think about it).

So, you better catch it on the festival circuit (I saw it's Canadian premiere as part of TIFF's Midnight Madness program)...because I assure you...it won't be getting any wider sort of release.

Which probably isn't something you'd want to indulge in, anyways.

Cause it's really, REALLY, bad...on pretty much every conceivable level.

In order for the experience to have any redeeming value...you really need to have the directors there to contextualize things for you.

Because that's where the film (if you can even call it that) gets kind of interesting.

As it has an immersive, interactive quality to it.

When the director- who plays himself, in the role of the director, in the process of making the film- comes out to offer an introduction, and run the crowd through a ritual.

All of which you must consider part of the film...or art experience...or whatever it is.

So, I guess, you could argue that it kind of breaks the FIFTH wall (by bringing the world of the film into the theatre, itself)?

A feat achieved when he undertakes this ritualistic endeavour...as it actually acts to, not only make the experience an interactive one...but also helps to contextualize what, I guess, you'd call " the nature" of the film.

Which is basically a found footage horror, that is, arguably, also part "documentary" (though, in the loosest sense of the term).

Because, as you come to find out, the film mainly consists of a bunch of "real" footage, with a few bits of improv, and only one character that is played by a paid actress (and even then, in her first paying role).

So, to call it an amateur production is an understatement, to say the least.

Which shows in the end result.

You've got to consider, however, that the whole thing was conceived when the house (who, itself, stars as the main character...and, arguably, should be given a writing credit) was purchased by the creatorial couple (in real life) for another film they were planning to shoot (as is noted in the film).

It's dilapidated quality; the garbage; the graffiti; and the all the culty stuff in it (less the Hellmouth painting... which was done by Rachel) were all real features of the house, that were there upon it's acquisition...and effectively inspired this film's creation.

Even down to it's title...as the words "It Doesn't Get Any Better Than This" were scrawled across the wall with spray paint when they moved in.

So...the narrative (another term applied loosely, here) was derived from the state and contents of the house...alongside the happenstance occurrences that would take place during the shooting of the (improvised aspects of the) "film", whereas the rest of it's constituent parts were just thrown together from a seemingly random collection of already existing, low quality, footage the trio had already shot.

Which is why I suggest the house, itself, should be given the main writing credit.

Because it seems to have done most of the writing...whereas the remainder of the film is just the aforementioned constituent parts, pieced together, in an incredibly hodgepodge way.

Although, there were contributions from a few unpaid background actors (in the role of the cult)...and, of course, the one paid actress, in the role as "the girl they followed home"...which is the only scene that wasn't improvised- and was shot twice- in the entire film.

That being said...the "film" "ends" as incoherently as it began.

Although, the "end" isn't really even the end!

Because the "narrative" spills into the post script, when the director comes back out to talk to the crowd for a Q&A session.

Which is when he runs the crowd through yet another ritual- this time, a makeshift seance- that makes the crowd, itself, active participants in the experience.

Which is precisely why I argue that the film breaks the FIFTH wall, above (due to it's interactive nature).

It is in this sense- and only this sense- that the "film" is even remotely interesting.

Because, like I previously noted, as a film, itself...it's a completely incoherent mess.

As an interactive video art experience, however...it has it's merits.

So if you get the rare chance to see (and play an active role in) it...definitely do so.

Because a) it will likely be your only chance to do so and b) there's really there's nothing else like it out there (that I know of, at least).

Just don't go into it expecting to indulge in a "good" film.

Because, that, it is not.

It's complete trash (just like the house).

But I guess that means there's a metaphor in there somewhere...right?

Either way...it has to be rated 1 out of 10.

Because it's not great.

Hell...it's not even good.

Any other rating is just shilling.

Ok, this film can only be watched in theaters right? What theater will show it? It's pure garbage. Obviously these "genius" filmmakers don't want to make any money on their useless film and I can say they absolutely won't. They must be super smart with this entrepreneurial plan to keep their movie in theaters forever: wow, that takes some seriously stupid planning. Obviously these people hate physical media; not sure why they made a found footage "film" when they could have used mimes, smoke signals or interpretive theater to dazzle those foolish enough to go to a theatre to see this movie. A film made by Millennials for Gen Z? Maybe they will transmit the film via telepathy...maybe the script should be put on a milk carton (nope, physical media)...maybe put it in a bottle. Oh well, who cares.