Jacob Taylor vanishes shortly after moving himself into an isolated cabin, leaving behind footage which his family, friends and a detective use to piece together the final days of the missing man. There’s a belief he staged his own disappearance due to personal shit going down but a poorly-acted detective starts digging into things to kill time thanks to the pandemic and realizes it’s a bit weird. He passes it off to another detective with the unsolved disappearance of his wife in his past and sticks to the case because he knows what Jacob’s loved ones are going through. Exposition is taken care of in interviews and then we get to the footage Jacob shot during his occupation of the suspiciously cheap cabin with an ominous locked upstairs door. Noises get things going, something leaves perfumed scarves in the surrounding woods, a note is left on his door advising him to get the hell out while he can and our hero slips deeper into a depression as spooky incidents amplify. Eventually the locked door is opened and inside the room Jacob finds a cradle, a mannequin with a familiar scarf, stuffed animals, a hidden book, a gun and a DV tape from 2006 which shows a couple of murders. Presented as a somber documentary about the effects the absence of the young man has had on those he left behind, it morphs into your run-of-the-mill slow burn found footage ghost story made on a budget with good intentions but minor talent. Eric Roberts shows up as an apologetic stepfather to pass on wisdom and show you why he’s the less popular Roberts child. There’s some horrible gun effects, the wretched acting that comes along when you force foreign actors to deliver dialogue in English, a sense of apathy and a limp ending work in unison to have you shrug and completely forget about the movie a couple minutes after you turn it off.
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