Missing

“Screenlife” at one point seemed poised as the successor to found footage as the new low-budget filmmaking gimmick. Whilst the format has produced some enjoyable horrors and thrillers – Spree and both Unfriended films are particular highlights – it never took off in the way it once seemed destined to. Perhaps having to limit the films to only taking place on laptop and phone screens was simply too restrictive for directors, or perhaps it was because the moniker “screenlife” is kind of rubbish. Regardless, Missing, a sort-of sequel to the 2019 film Searching, revives the format.

Watching films of this kind on the big screen is always a slightly odd idea. In many ways they might work best watched on a streaming site on someone’s laptop or phone screen, but Missing directors Will Merrick and Nick Johnson find creative ways to make things seem cinematic. While previous screenlife films such as Unfriended and its sequel went take place essentially in real time, being careful not to include any non-diegetic elements, Missing, takes place over an extended period of time, featuring a score and needledrops as well as cuts, and even shifts between which particular screen the “camera” is looking at.

This is most effective in the middle section of the film, where Storm Reid’s June is suddenly subject to a social media onslaught of TikTok true crime influencers discussing the disappearance of her mother. It’s a smart little moment that points to the internet-literate skills of those behind the film. Most of the online logic of the film is sound, although the film’s twisty nature frequently pushes the boundaries of real-life believability.

June is a likeable anchor for the film, and Reid manages to sell the situation despite those logic-gaps. The film’s hook is instantly interesting, too: Grace (Nia Long) leaves daughter June alone for a week and goes on holiday to Colombia with her new boyfriend Kevin (Ken Leung). June goes to meet them at the airport on the day they’re due to return but they never show. The perspective shift from worried parent in Searching to a teenage girl here is much more effective – of course the film would be filmed entirely over screens, because that’s how June experiences the world.

Unfortunately the film piles on twist after twist until it ends up in dark territory it doesn’t feel equipped to handle, and the mood sours due to the deployment of a serious subject matter as simply a shocking twist. Films like this obviously can go there, but going there instantly pulled this film from being a fun thriller into something nastier, and it wasn’t able to shift the actual tone with it.

There’s also a thread of voyeurism that feels unfulfilled – June is subject to internet scrutiny that she herself participates in, but even when she’s trawling through a curiously sexless dating app conversation between her mum and Kevin, there’s a distinct lack of queasiness which might have added an edge to the film. It’s momentarily enjoyable but I have an undeniable feeling that I might queue it up on Netflix later in the year forgetting that I’ve already watched it.

Little White Lies is committed to championing great movies and the talented people who make them.

By becoming a member you can support our independent journalism and receive exclusive essays, prints, monthly film recommendations and more.