The first cinematic feature from British television director Nick Norman-Butler, My House introduces Carla (Mirren Mack), who is making a film with an old camcorder (hence the found footage) that ultimately we learn is to show her mother “what happened.”  She lives with her dad Don (Francis Magee), who is her sole parent, indeed is the only human being she has any contact with.

He keeps her home, home schools her, and locks her in the house when he goes out.  He explains that this is because he testified at a mob trial and there are “gangsters” that want to kill him or get to him through her.  Now a teen,  she believes him as much as the audience does. One day at the front door is Frank (Aki Omoshaybi), who gives Carla a smartphone through the mail slot when Don is out and Frank encourages her to film Don and text with Frank.  Frank seems sketchy, too.

Already by this point we are knee deep in questions.  Carla wears well-fitting clothes, but where does she get such good-fitting clothes when she never leaves the house.  Is Don shopping for her clothes?  She is given a smartphone and within a week is texting and filming like a champ despite not knowing what the internet is or what the phone is when Frank slides it through the mail slot. When Carla tapes the phone to her abdomen and films her father through her jumper, it strains credulity.  How does Don miss the big, bulky rectangle on his daughter’s front?  How is she able to film so clearly through the jumper – if the top is that sheer, shouldn’t Don see the phone or at least reflections off of it as they move about their day? There is a good deal that seems improbable as the film slowly unfolds and we are kept guessing if Don or Frank or neither is telling the truth.  Carla keeps questioning Don about what happened to her mother, and things only worsen from there.

There’s a lot to recommend in My House, even if I find found footage rather played out these days.  The performances are solid, with Mack, McGee, and Omoshaybi carrying the film well. They inhabit their roles fully and the film works in part because we don’t trust Don, but so much of what he says seems plausible.  The designs are also well done as I believe this setting.  It never feels like a dressed set, so kudos to the production design team.  The elements of the “found footage” are problematic, and the wrap-up only adds to the questions above. My House also makes some creative choices that can’t leave me thinking of the phrase “Dance with the one what brung ya!”