Why We Need the Internet in Film

At times it can be easy to feel that the progression of the film industry has been static for quite some time. While the worldwide shift from celluloid to digital filmmaking in the 2000s initially appeared to promise an exciting new era of endless possibilities and important technological advancements, this shimmering future of digital images gradually started to fade in the 2010s as bold applications of the form were replaced by an unimaginative standardized workflow. Thoughtful compositions that take full advantage of the unique capabilities of digital cameras are rare in the mainstream now that streaming is so dominant in our culture.

More people watch movies on their phones now than ever. Phones are not optimized for detailed images which create depth by filling each layer of the frame with information. What are they optimized for? The close-up. The two-shot. Shallow depth of field. Washed out soft lighting. Images with one clear subject to focus on and nothing more. To some, it appears that the medium has hit a wall. Big studio films are more visually bland and creatively bankrupt than ever. So where can we look to move the medium forward? Perhaps the answers lie within the smartphone screen. Perhaps optimizing film for viewing on phones and laptops isn’t such a bad thing; we may need to embrace that medium even further, just in a different way than the mainstream currently does.  

Although our zeitgeist is built almost entirely around the internet, there seems to be a reluctance in film and television to incorporate it into stories with sincerity. And when it is incorporated, it is often written by out-of-touch people who have no idea how the internet actually works or how younger generations interact with it. This naturally incites backlash from Gen-Zers who feel misrepresented, so the portrayal of the internet in film is essentially rejected as try-hard by an irony-poisoned culture. With these issues in mind, what is the solution? 

One of the biggest challenges young filmmakers face in the early stages of their careers is discovering their voices, but the voice of Gen Z is the internet, so it should be clear that this is the biggest tool growing filmmakers have to their advantage. It is a perspective which has gone largely unexplored, a market untapped, a revolutionary new era of cinema just waiting to break ground. There are millions of teenagers and young adults who have not felt seen or understood by films that are supposedly for them. To see yourself reflected accurately in not just the glow of a TikTok feed on a phone screen, but in a feature film, means a lot to today’s youth.

One recent film that successfully implements the internet into not only the content of its story, but its form as well, is Jane Schoenbrun’s We’re All Going to the World’s Fair: a haunting art house coming of age film hidden within the trojan horse of a lowbrow creepypasta centered narrative. By crafting much of the film around a series of Youtube clips strung together by an ominous loading symbol in between each one, Schoenbrun brings us into the experience of diving down a rabbit hole and discovering often unseen dark corners of the internet. With frightening accuracy, they capture the isolation felt in staring into your reflection within the cold black void of a computer screen. It’s an unconventional narrative structure that aims to communicate niche experiences rather than attempting to make any broad, generalized statements about how “computers are bad”.

Another great recent example is Mohammad Rasoulof’s political thriller The Seed of the Sacred Fig. The film centers around an Iranian family living in Tehran amidst the tumultuous protests following the death of Mahsa Amini. The two daughters of the family are inspired by the protests and believe that their conservative parents and the media are feeding them lies to oppress them. Much of their time is spent inside, watching Instagram Reels of the protests just outside their door. Each time that they view these videos, the camera is rarely recording them being played on a phone- instead, the videos within the screen are integrated into the visual form of the film. Surrounded by a black void and accompanied by unsettling ambient score, real videos of police brutality during the Mahsa Amini protests are presented to convey how the daughters feel helpless in their view of the revolution happening around them being limited to a phone screen. It also captures the all too real experience of being unable to scroll social media without encountering videos of real dead people and graphic violence.

Director Mohammad Rasoulof shot the film entirely in secret while he had an arrest warrant sent out for him by the Iranian government, and fled the country shortly after to avoid his sentencing of 8 years in prison for his politically confrontational films. Because of this, he relied on the real footage of protests shot on iPhones rather than staging and shooting fake ones. The film itself is an act of protest, and the radical use of materials from social media in the form of the film is a testament to the internet’s power to rebel against fascism.

These films are two great examples of the internet in film because the first one shows how an independent American filmmaker made the most of the small budget they had to tell a unique, inventive story (a story which got them into Sundance and scored them a deal with A24 to make their next film with a budget 10 times bigger). The second one shows how the internet can be used as an act of protest in film and a tool out of necessity when there is no other way to get a film made. No matter what the circumstances are, the internet is a vital asset in the progression of the medium.

Films about humanity’s contemporary relationship with technology do not have to all be formulaic stories about how teenagers are too addicted to their phones. The potential for both narrative and formal experimentation is endless. So don’t waste time. You have a phone in your pocket. You have a computer at home. You have a webcam. This is the future of cinema. This is your voice. This is the advantage that you have over Hollywood. The only thing it costs is your willingness to take a risk.