Has anyone ever looked to the found footage subgenre of horror and thought, hey, we definitely need an extended yoga influencer video from hell to be a new addition? Whether one wants to experience it or not, writer/director duo Alex Henes and Matthew Merenda unleash Mind Body Spirit into the world. Hands down the best aspect of this feature is the lead performance from actress Sarah J. Batholomew—she seems game for anything thrown her way. Too often this misguided movie overstays its welcome, making an eighty-eight minute runtime feel more akin to two hours. Kudos for using minimal “software glitches,” but points docked for the constant presence of the loading circle and faux “ad” breaks. Strictly for rabid found footage fans only, Mind Body Spirit has less depth than a vapid self-help influencer.
In numerous places, I have seen this film claim to be a screenlife movie; for the uninitiated, that would mean the entirety looks as if unfolding on the screen of a computer. Mind Body Spirit starts as someone navigates into the Far Corner Video Archive. They search for the film’s title, select it, and then it plays. That is really all there is to the setup. No V/H/S style wraparound segment, nor any specific action taking place on a computer screen. Anya (Bartholomew), our main character, begins by greeting us from her yoga mat. She vows to help her watchers recharge their minds and reclaim their bodies. From the jump, Anya obviously lacks the typical influencer quality that some of her colleagues seem to possess. Kenzi (Madi Bready) makes a couple of appearances in Anya’s home to collaborate with her, but they do not seem to have similar structures to their approaches on any level.
When Anya discovers a hidden pantry in her grandma’s apartment, she finds a dusty book and equally dusty sandbags that indicate some kind of ritualistic space. Instead of doing the logical thing and avoiding at all costs, Anya assumes that her grandma was also a healer. Finding the woman to be an inspiration is one thing, but being fiercely defensive on every level even when her mother insists grandma was not to be trusted calls into question Anya’s integrity. The camera trickery does a lot with a sparsely decorated space, including a constant full spin around the room that I first saw utilized in this medium by way of Paranormal Activity 3‘s oscillating fan gag. We see Anya frequently video chat with her mom, but she never does anything for Anya physically whatsoever.
Anya decides to follow something called “the joining” for an ultimate “spiritual centering” said to join the soul back to the body. Of course, cataloguing it all the way for her indeterminate amount of followers will also be mandatory. So much here is underbaked, including the social media element, and any type of insight into Anya beyond what she films for content. Each task Anya attempts for “the joining” grows progressively weirder and nastier by the second, calling into question why she continues to do them in the first place. Anya never seems to have moments of doubt about the nature of what she follows. If I was choking up blood during a “throat cleanse,” I would probably take it upon myself to seek professional help immediately.
As Anya begins deteriorating physically, the camera continues to perform strange gymnastics all around her. A jump scare with an elderly woman on a chair could barely be called one, yet remains one of the few chilling pieces of imagery found within. The obviousness of the direction we are headed leaves no room for surprises. Mind Body Spirit plays an incredibly straightforward horror game, acting as a character piece for the increasingly unhinged Anya. Sarah J. Batholomew does a great job as the sole focus. Due to the dullness of the visuals and the threadbare narrative, this instructional lifestyle horror would be better off skipped, as with a pesky ad that doesn’t know when to stop.
Center your Mind Body Spirit when the newest found footage flick meditates to Video on Demand outlets on Tuesday, May 7th.
The trailer was so cringe I almost downward dogged.