Cam review: A smart feminist tale of the lives we live online

AFI Fest Review: Cam

Cam’s Daniel Goldhaber and Isa Mazzei enter the horror genre with a frightening expose of femininity and sexuality in the 21st century.

The rise of sites like YouTube and Twitch have allowed us to put ourselves online 24/7. From creating a brand to bearing your soul, there’s a belief that anyone can become a millionaire if they put themselves out there. But with every website, there is its dark counterpart and with sites like YouTube allowing people to make money by baking cakes or reviewing movies, thousands of women sell their bodies online for male consumption. Director Daniel Goldhaber and screenwriter Isa Mazzei explore the world of the “cam girl” with Cam, an intricate tale of navigating the online world of sex and feminism that leaves you thinking long after the credits roll.

Alice (Madeline Brewer) is a cam girl determined to become one of the highest ranked on the website. Recording from her Pink Room, Alice, under her cam personal Lola, cultivates online relationships with many of her clients. For them she’s the girl next door, the best friend they don’t have, the fantasy sexpot they can only dream of. Brewer’s natural charisma infuses the first 25 minutes of Cam with an attractive light you can’t help but get pulled into. Despite the implications of her job, there’s a classiness to her performances that hew more towards burlesque than pornography. She has theme days, records herself eating dinner in a corset, and generally just provides friendship… for a handsome fee. But when Alice wakes up to discover she’s locked out of her account and another woman who looks like her is recording, a sense of terror grips hold of Alice that pushes Cam to its conclusion.

Photo Credit: Netflix

Goldhaber and Mazzei may be first-time directors but they have a heightened awareness of the material. Mazzei was a cam girl and that gives Cam an added verisimilitude knowing this is inspired by true experiences. For Alice there’s a sense of control defined by her three rules: “I don’t do group shows. I don’t tell my guys I love them. And I don’t fake my orgasms.” As Lola, she can act out who she wants to be which is a far cry from the real Alice who is more introverted and seems to only communicate with her mother (played with extreme empathy by Melora Walters) and younger brother. So when Alice discovers a doppelganger has taken over her channel and, even worse, is going further with the men online, there’s an enhanced sense of fear.

Photo Credit: Netflix

The film never demonizes Alice or people who watch her on the channel. In fact, just watching the endless scroll of chats as Alice performs showcases a group of people who come there to hang out and engage with each other. However two of Lola’s clients are particularly forceful, a seemingly mild-mannered man whose screen name is Tinker (Patch Darragh) and online financial whale, Barney (Michael Dempsey). The two men play integral parts in Alice’s life once her online world is taken away and seek to remind audiences about the toxic masculinity that permeates our culture.

For these two, it isn’t enough to be friends with Alice. They must own her and male ownership of women is a more frightening prospect in Cam than anything else. Part of Alice’s slow mental deterioration throughout the movie is feeling she must rely on men in order to reclaim herself. The need to get back her online persona becomes tantamount to reclaiming her own identity.

Photo Credit: Netflix

These topics are all wonderfully rendered in Mazzei’s script which plays the with the mounting dread of being a woman out of control. When Alice has to meet up with her two main clients it’s a moment of fear for any woman that’s gone out with a man she doesn’t know. An even harsher scene involves Alice’s attempts to call the police. As the cop lasciviously questions her lifestyle, it’s a conversation that’s not too far removed from the Kavanaugh hearings of late, in terms of feeling the need to pry into a woman’s private life to find out what she did wrong.

Madeline Brewer anchors the film as Alice and Lola. Between her Barbie-esque wardrobe on cam and her more laid-back clothes at home, the young actress bridges the two halves of one woman. Melora Walters and Brewer present the mother/daughter relationship their characters have effortlessly. When Walters’ Lynn finally discovers Alice’s job, the film avoids cliche and gives Walters the chance to illustrate a mother who understands she doesn’t own her child, but still feels betrayed by her.

Cam will draw in horror fans for sure, as well as those who enjoy more esoteric terror a la Black Mirror. Despite its neophyte director, screenwriter, and crew, there’s a polished, slick presentation to everything. Cam will definitely make you afraid to turn on your computer.