What to Watch: The Creep Tapes

Despite mixed reactions, “The Creep Tapes” succeeds in expanding the world of “Creep” with its unique blend of endearing and horrifying.

Delightfully unhinged and endearingly uncomfortable, The Creep Tapes was a project that was a long time coming from the 2015 Netflix sleeper hit Creep that showed us the man that, in his own words in this series, might just be the greatest actor of all time.

Creep is a found-footage stunner with a barebones cast that grabbed the attention of audiences and critics alike, landing stellar ratings and reviews and earning it a sequel, which would emerge in 2017 to similarly outstanding feedback. This was all more than seven years ago, and while talks of a third film seem to be difficult to find and even harder to confirm, the Creep team has reassembled for a six-part found-footage package, directed and partially written by Patrick Brice (Creep, Creep 2, There’s Someone Inside Your House), with writing and production credits given to Mark Duplass as well.

Our star, Mark Duplass, is the titular Creep (whose many aliases include Jeff Daniels, Father Tom Durkin, Kyle, and fan favorite Peach Fuzz) in this mini-series titled with victims’ names.

The Creep Tapes, however, hasn’t received the same warm welcome as the films, with many criticizing the limited series as a vanity project or useless filler. Yet, Shudder fan feedback was far more favorable, with most ratings hovering in the four and (perfect) five skull range.

So, sit back, get a little less than comfortable, and let me sing the praises of this interesting and long-awaited follow-up to an indie film sensation.

Six episodes make up this miniseries, told in a non-linear fashion, all titled after men that Creep is interested in connecting with.

The films leading up to this series set the tone for Creep (Mark Duplass) to target usually a young man down on his luck and entices them with one thousand dollars cash to film for perhaps a couple of hours. I hate to say that this series can be formulaic, but it often overcomes this minor flaw with terrific stories.

I’ll highlight the first episode, and one of my personal favorites, Mike.

A man is hired to film an acting reel for an aspiring performer, Jeff Daniels. Not that Jeff Daniels, as we find out. The filmmaker is the episode’s namesake, Mike (Mike Luciano), who arrives on a snowy night to a dark house and notes leading him inside, urging him to keep rolling. Jeff Daniels (Duplass) does a vampire monologue upon Mike’s entry (super awkward feelings abound), including a classic in-your-face jump scare at the end of his lines.

Delivering more reels and eating up Mike’s time, this all seems like a bust for both parties. With the snow piling up and no decent footage, Mike is torn between bailing amidst a parade of red flags and collecting significantly more cash to stay and wait out the storm.

The difficult presentation and uncomfortable pauses feel much like life when things in life aren’t lining up with a new relationship, and both parties are obviously not at ease.

Each episode offers a chilling look at the day in the life of a killer, but it’s presented in a way that feels like an engaging relationship drama, where two people try to connect amidst all the tension and neverousness of first meetings. It makes it so we almost find ourselves rooting for both parties to find kinship and happiness, though we clearly know that’s impossible.

Duplass is brilliant as the endearing sociopath, painting an almost impossible picture of a loveable man with a big heart and an even bigger axe.

There is a dark humor that works its way into the script, letting you ease off of the edge of your seat and maybe even catch yourself smiling at a song sung or a particular look on Duplass’ face that is far more playful than the situation at hand calls for.

Duplass and the other actors play their roles to perfection, inserting the word “awkward” into many an episode, an accurate description for all players.

You might catch some familiar faces in the lineup, such as Josh Ruben (A Wounded Fawn), who stars in the episode “Brad.” Duplass, however, remains the focal point. There’s this sense of vulnerability in each episode, especially during “Brandt.” Duplass and Brice dig below the surface of the character and worked to expose emotional connections, codependency, familial turmoil, and much more.

Peach Fuzz is brought into the light as more than just a prop but an extension of Creep himself. We get to see how the relationship with his wolf mask is complex and nuanced, even seeing that his mother calls him “Wolfie” over any other name. It’s thought-provoking to finally get a glimpse into the history of how the Creep came to be, from his connection to the mask to his shocking relationship with his mother.

For me, The Creep Tapes were an illuminating and entertaining peek into the vast universe that Creep has to offer us. It stays true to its roots and expands the series for a potential third film (fingers crossed) or possible follow-up seasons.

I highly recommend this to anyone who enjoyed the films and applaud Duplass and Brice for what they’ve created.