A bored wedding photographer sets up a side business – ‘Gumshoot’, where he’ll surreptitiously photograph his subjects without being seen. Kind of like a private eye (hence the clever name), except he’s actually been hired specifically to do this. One day Theo (Chris Messina) arrives at a park to photograph a woman known only to him as ‘Subgirl’ and what he finds there, at 9am, is a beautiful woman touching herself. He takes her picture from behind his grassy knoll. He takes a whole bunch.
At home, he takes his time perusing them, and his fiancee Nat (Rashida Jones) can’t help but notice the close-up crotch shots. They share an intimate moment together, inspired by the wantonness of the photos. And maybe that would have been nice had Theo left it there. But does he? Oh no. He does not. He becomes obsessed, scrutinizing the photos for every tattoo, every freckle, every…clue? And then he takes more pictures. Subgirl (Meital Dohan) leads an interesting life that seems to get more and more perverse. Would that excited you? Are you an exhibitionist like Subgirl? Or are you a voyeur like Theo? What would it be like to stalk someone with your camera? To film them in such compromising poses? To know that in a way, they are performing just for you. Sexy? Creepy? Both?
I confess I’ve always had a thing for Chris Messina. He’s dark and brooding and kind of an asshole. Why do we always fall for the assholes? To be clear, I don’t even know Chris Messina. I just lust after his character on The Mindy Project, and then fantasize about breaking all his limbs for all the terrible things he’s done to my precious MindyWhoCanDoNoWrong. My Rashida Jones crush is possibly even stronger. Does she actually emit the light of a thousand suns or have I just soaked for too long in Leslie Knope’s love for best friend extraordinaire, Ann Perkins?
Anyway, I guess you can only photograph cock sucking for so long before your own relationship starts to suffer. So too does his mental health, I think.
But this movie isn’t just about a Brooklyn hipster. It’s about the fraudulent wedding industry, and the stereotypically male knee-jerk reaction to marriage (and its inherent mysogyny), and the sad sac, boo hoo, woe is me, self-pity-party of the man’s end of a breakup. On the head, as my brother-in-law would say (as in, nailed it).