Barry Levinson's only horror film is a strange found footage

Barry Levinson is not a name you would normally associate with the horror genre. Academy Award-winning director — best known for “Rain Man,” “Wag the Dog” and “Diner” — leans mostly toward satirical comedies or tense drama-thrillers throughout his career. In preparation for a documentary about the pollution that ravaged the Chesapeake Bay in 2012, Levinson decided to abandon the project in favor of a found-footage eco-horror that would mix fact with fiction to disturbing effect. That effort was “The Bay,” a mockumentary-style exploration of the contagion premise that seems almost prescient. in the context of our post-pandemic world. Despite being the director's only foray into horror, Levinson reinvigorates the found-footage subgenre by injecting it with one of the most primal fears that accompany the pandemic: the cruel cruelty of willful inaction.

It is worth noting that Levinson incorporated the scientific research of the Abandoned Chesapeake documentary into the narrative framework of the film and created an aura of credibility by shooting some of the footage with widely used digital cameras. In an interview with Mother JonesLevinson explained how he had to take an unconventional filmmaking approach to respect the inner workings of the found footage genre:

“We made this movie for $2 million, shot it in 18 days with a small crew of many first-time actors, and used 21 different types of video cameras, including iPhones and cheap underwater video equipment, to make it look believable. It made the editing more complicated.

The mix of reality-based fact and inspired fiction helped create something truly terrifying, evoking a subtle suspension of disbelief that is perhaps one of The Bay's greatest strengths. While this forgotten horror entry isn't perfect, it's worth checking out for its uncompromising vision, as well as its brutality and gore that have uncomfortably near-real undertones.

In Levinson's 2012 film, journalism intern Donna (Kether Donohue) is assigned to cover the Fourth of July celebrations in Claridge, a quaint little Maryland town that thrives on its water supply. Problems arise when a local chicken farm is found to be releasing toxins that end up polluting the Chesapeake Bay, and these snowballs become sick and show physical symptoms. The Centers for Disease Control (CDC) is contacted as soon as the situation gets out of hand, but a mixture of apathy and inaction makes the situation much, much worse. Schools of dead fish wash ashore, infected people begin to drop dead after writhing in unimaginable pain, and dead birds begin to litter the bloody streets. Donna and her cameraman witness these events first hand documenting the horrors of a disaster in real time and overwhelming helplessness in the face of the strange symptoms among the infected.

Not everything that unfolds on screen feels new or unique, but Levinson is able to use some well-polished treads to add tension to a situation that lacks a silver lining. Donna's footage, later seized by the government and then leaked by a third party, is interspersed with frantic Skype calls, cell phone videos and digital vlogs that capture the visceral nature of the out-of-control epidemic. Body horror of pus-filled rashes, violent vomiting and exploding guts add to the narrative, and a couple of mutated creatures are thrown in for good measure. No one knows what to do, and those who are capable of doing something, such as the town's mayor, Stockman (Frank Diehl), seem more depressed at the prospect of Claridge losing tourists.

What I appreciate about The Bay is that it foregrounds ecological horrors and exposes our callousness to the environment even as our transgressions destroy the sanctity of life. There's more to this story than the disgust it evokes, as we're forced to grapple with the evidence left behind by countless mini vlogs and disturbing digital calls that unravel the nature of the mutation outbreak. The shameful display of callous apathy that accompanies this disaster both during and after it is not pretty, and Levinson deliberately ends “The Bay” on that bitter, uncomfortable note.