Rent-A-Pal by Jonny Numb

Rent-A-Pal could’ve gone a simple and cynical route, leaning hard on our perception of a character through well-trod cues of speech, wardrobe, and economic class rather than putting the effort into creating a fully-formed individual.

David (Brian Landis Folkins) is a three-dimensional marvel. At first glance, he resembles the stereotypical notion of an over-the-hill “loser”: overweight with wire-frame glasses, he also cares for his dementia-stricken mother (Kathleen Brady). Going one further, this 1990-set film has 40-year old David actively seeking a mate through a video dating service.

Pained Authenticity

We’ve seen various incarnations of “incel” characters represented in popular culture, from Scott Pilgrim vs. the World to Ready Player One to Arthur Fleck in Joker. The notion of basement-dwelling loners waging war through anonymous social-media accounts is real enough, and falling back on this stereotype has already become an overused cliche in mainstream media.

What’s interesting about David is his depth. His motives are genuine, from taking after his mother to acknowledging the stigma of “living at home,” and his pained authenticity as he fumbles through a video pitch early on. The cruel attention to his credit card being charged adds insult to injury – a reinforcement of his low self-esteem and the loud disapproval with which the world perceives him. Folkins toes a fine line in his depiction – he could’ve been just pitiable and creepy, but there’s a longing to his seemingly complacent demeanor that fosters empathy. Not unlike Arthur Fleck, David wants the connection of a genuine relationship and wishes to be loved for who he is.

Countering Loneliness

When a potential match is scooped out from underneath him, David spies a video in the dump bin of the dating-service lobby. When he pops the tape in, he’s greeted by Andy (Wil Wheaton), a “Rent-A-Pal” who’s in the business of countering people’s loneliness. What seems awkward (and darkly humorous) at first, becomes something more sinister as David’s interpersonal tensions escalate.

As I watched Rent-A-Pal, I recalled William Friedkin’s closed-room paranoia study, Bug; Simon Rumley’s dark descent into familial trauma, The Living and the Dead; and, to a lesser degree, the televised hypnosis of David Cronenberg’s Videodrome. Friedkin and Rumley’s films in particular address the extreme actions of lonely people, and the horrible compromises that occur when well-meaning but ill-equipped (mentally or otherwise) family members are left to care for an ailing/aging relative.

When films capture this all-too-real emotional struggle, the need for gory setpieces becomes a secondary consideration. Horror that understands the complexities of being part of a family hits hardest, because these tales are rooted in life experiences that are often taken for granted (in terms of their emotional and psychological weight).

Rent-A-Pal is no exception. What could’ve been a nasty, one-note joke of a film (with the viewer cheering on David’s decline) instead becomes something emotionally involving and tragic by the end.

The Meddling Jester

In a manner that coincides with our social-media-obsessed times, Andy has an outwardly friendly, “Mr. Rogers”-style veneer that slowly reveals the meddling jester beneath. While David feels as though his through-the-screen conversations with Andy are the closest he’s come to having an actual “friend,” complications arise when he meets Lisa (Amy Rutledge), a sympathetic hospice nurse searching for a partner. What ensues is a push-pull between the relationship offered through a screen, versus one of actual flesh and blood.

Rent-A-Pal is a potent feature debut from writer-director-editor Jon Stevenson, who skirts cliches and stereotypes at every turn. There are moments of dark humor sprinkled throughout, but never at the expense of the characters. And when things turn violent, it’s disturbingly understated. The performances are uniformly excellent, with Folkins and Rutledge as talents to watch. But it’s Wheaton’s unexpectedly dark turn that binds Rent-A-Pal firmly to that tricky sub-niche of psychological horror crossed with family-based fear. We’re a long way from The Big Bang Theory, Dorothy.