Old-fashioned television programming still exists in many places throughout the world, but I think it’s safe to say that most internet users find the idea of channel-surfing through media that wasn’t curated by either yourself or a highly personalized algorithm to be about as primitive as dining on mammoth meat. However, as certain practices are lost to the past, they can also become esoteric inspiration for modern storytellers – which is likely why Analog horror is so popular among younger generations that have never even seen a real VHS tape.

That’s why I was intrigued by the trailer for Michael Hurst’s eerie love-letter to late-night TV, Transmission. As someone who used to routinely spend the night watching multiple different channels at once in the old-school equivalent of managing multiple browser tabs on your computer, I was fascinated by the idea of a Found Footage movie using several self-contained vignettes to tell a larger horror narrative.

In the film (which was completed back in 2023 but is only getting released now due to the usual difficulties that plague indie distribution), we follow a mysterious block of late-night programming from the point of view of an unidentified old man as he channel-surfs through the unraveling of a supernatural conspiracy in real time. This is conveyed to us through a series of interconnected scenes from retro movies, breaking news broadcasts and televised documentaries, with the footage having apparently been sourced from what I assume are the old man’s VHS recordings from that particular night.

From sci-fi epics to raunchy ’70s comedies and even the occasional horror host intermission, Transmission’s clever premise allows the film to indulge a wide array of filmmaking styles in order to explore a genuinely compelling meta-narrative about a director who went too far in search of genre thrills. However, while a good script can elevate even the cheapest of productions, things can get a little messy when you’re dealing with a format that relies heavily on authenticity.

Contrary to popular belief, good Found Footage is usually harder to produce than traditional movies (even if it’s often cheaper), as modern audiences instinctively recognize what “real” footage looks like. This means that filmmakers need to be extra careful in order to make their faux media look convincing. Unfortunately for Transmission, low production value combined with sup-par acting and questionable creative decisions keep the experience from ever feeling real enough to be scary.

From cheap digital filters meant to emulate vintage recordings to the annoying use of high-quality stock footage that doesn’t match the rest of the film (as well as modern CGI effects in what’s implied to be a period setting), it’s hard to get invested when the film makes no effort to suspend your disbelief. I usually wouldn’t fret about these budget-related blemishes, but when the entire premise hinges on the movie successfully emulating a specific form of real-world media, it’s hard to justify all of these cut corners. This is especially egregious since many of these issues could have been prevented by either writing a less-ambitious screenplay or investing more time in the post-production process.

However, if you aren’t as much of a Found Footage purist as I am and can put believability aside, there’s still a lot to like about the multilayered world of Transmission. On its own, the script is surprisingly solid, with influences from Robert W. Chambers, films like Antrum and even John Carpenter’s Cigarette Burns. I also love the subtle humor peppered throughout the in-universe movies and shows – as well as the recurring hints that the over-arching narrative is a puzzle meant to be assembled piece by piece.

It’s also quite refreshing to see genre veteran Felissa Rose in a more down-to-earth role as a distressed news anchor, though Vernon Wells really steals the show with his intense performance as a mysterious filmmaker willing to sacrifice everything for his art. It’s just a shame that their appearances are so brief (and often relegated to green-screen compositing), though that might also be a budget issue.

When Canadian philosopher Marshall McLuhan claimed that “the medium is the message,” he was referring to the fact that content and presentation are two sides of the same coin. This is especially true when it comes to Found Footage filmmaking, as the peculiarities of attempting to replicate real world recordings in fiction are precisely what make this the perfect genre to tell stories about media itself and how it affects our lives. Refusing to engage with the visual side of these meta elements misses the point of the genre entirely, and that’s why Transmission doesn’t work despite boasting its fair share of eerie moments.

However, while the film wasn’t exactly a homerun, I can’t help but respect Hurst’s lofty ambitions for its story. The screenplay features quite a few genuinely interesting ideas that could have been better executed in a larger production, and the director clearly has a knack for combining several different narrative threads into a cohesive experience. In fact, I’d like to see Hurst experiment with Found Footage again in the future – especially if he’s given a larger budget to bring his vision to life. In the meantime, a VHS rerelease of Transmission marketed as a bootleg recording might actually fix many of the film’s aesthetic issues, so I’d recommend that readers keep an eye on this one just in case the distributor ever decides to release a more authentic cut of the movie.