If The Blair Witch Project grew up, went to therapy, moved to the desert, and got really into UFO chat forums instead of trees, you’d get Skyman.
Daniel Myrick (yes, that Daniel Myrick) trades witches and screaming for something much quieter, weirder, and oddly sweet: a found-footage character study about a guy who might be an alien abductee… or might just be a lifelong casualty of one very strange childhood memory. Either way, he’s taking this seriously, and the film has the nerve to take him seriously too.
It just also gently laughs at him along the way. And at us.
Meet Carl Merryweather: The Guy Who Never “Grew Out of It”
Carl Merryweather is the kind of man you absolutely know exists in real life. He’s the guy everyone in town remembers from That Story: when he was 10, he saw something in the sky, lost time, maybe had an encounter… and never really came back from it, emotionally speaking.
As an adult, he’s:
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Socially awkward, but trying
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Weirdly earnest about aliens
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Living half in the present, half in 1980-something under the stars
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Exactly one step away from building a tinfoil hat, but also… kinda relatable?
Michael Selle plays Carl with such low-key sincerity that you can’t dismiss him as just “the UFO nut.” He’s funny in that everyday-cringe way—over-explaining his theories, proudly showing off his DIY contact equipment, talking about “the Skyman” like he’s an old friend who just hasn’t texted back in 30 years. But there’s a sadness under it all, this sense that his whole life froze at age 10 and he’s been waiting for something—anything—to give that moment meaning.
It’s darkly humorous, yes, but it also hits uncomfortably close to anyone who’s ever clung way too hard to one defining event to avoid dealing with… well, everything else.
Found Footage, But Low-Key and Emotionally Constipated
Despite being a “found footage” sci-fi horror movie, Skyman isn’t interested in cheap scares. There are no shrieking jump cuts, no shaky-cam panic attacks in the woods, no possessed cameraperson facing the wall. Instead, the camera here is more like a documentary crew hanging around a guy who’s convinced something huge is coming, while absolutely nothing huge happens—for a long time.
Plot-wise, it’s simple:
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Carl believes the aliens who visited him as a child will return on his 40th birthday
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He wants to meet them at the same desert spot
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His skeptical but loving sister Gina agrees to support him
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A small crew documents the preparation and trip
The horror isn’t so much “Will the aliens come?” as “What if they don’t, and this man’s entire identity collapses on camera?”
That’s the sneaky thing Skyman does so well: it reframes the alien-abduction story as a psychological slow burn. This is more about a man’s need for validation—from the universe, no less—than about glowing ships and anal probes.
(For the record, there are no probes. Myrick shows restraint. Or maybe that was a budget thing.)
The Family That Barely Understands You, But Shows Up Anyway
The secret weapon of the movie is Gina, Carl’s sister, played by Nicolette Sweeney. She’s the relatable stand-in for the audience: skeptical, grounded, mildly exasperated, but fiercely protective of her brother.
Where other films might make the skeptic cruel or dismissive, Gina is that sibling who sighs heavily and still gets in the car. She teases Carl, questions him, and looks at him sometimes like she’s wondering how things went so sideways… but she never stops showing up.
Those small, awkward family scenes—Carl explaining his blueprints, Gina trying not to roll her eyes too hard, old acquaintances sharing fuzzy memories—are where the dark humor shines. You’re laughing, but you also feel like you’ve accidentally stumbled into someone’s very real unresolved childhood drama.
And then there’s Marcus, the friend who tags along. Every UFO obsessive needs a buddy to provide commentary, help duct-tape weird gear together, and be just enough of a believer to keep things from tipping into outright pity.
Alien Abduction as Extended Midlife Crisis
At its core, Skyman is about a guy staring down 40 and insisting, “No really, something special is going to happen to me.” And instead of buying a sports car or joining a crossfit cult, he drives into the desert to wait for beings from another world to validate his entire existence.
Honestly, this feels emotionally accurate.
The film smartly plays Carl’s obsession straight. There’s no winking at the audience, no “gotcha, he’s just crazy” punchline. We see:
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Old news clips about his childhood encounter
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Locals who vaguely remember “that UFO kid”
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Carl’s meticulous preparation, diagrams, and theories
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The way he lights up talking about that night like nothing else in his life comes close
There’s something darkly funny and a little brutal in how small his life seems outside of this one looming event. Job? Meh. Social life? Minimal. Meaning? All poured into a craft-light UFO expecting RSVP.
It’s the paranormal version of that guy who peaked in high school football and still talks about “the big game”—except his big game involved missing time and unverified beings from Zeta Reticuli.
The Desert, The Build-Up… and Then What?
Everything leads to the big 40th birthday attempt at contact. Carl, Gina, and the crew head out to the same desert spot where 10-year-old Carl supposedly had his encounter. It’s quiet. Stark. A little eerie. And very empty.
Myrick leans hard into atmosphere here. Long takes. Night-vision. The sense that the characters are more exposed emotionally than physically. The “scare” isn’t so much the aliens as the tension of: is this all in his head? And if it is, what’s left of him after this?
Does something happen? Yes—but not in a way that’s going to satisfy people expecting jump scares and monster money shots. The “horror” here exists mostly in the space between “maybe” and “never,” and Myrick clearly prefers ambiguity over CGI.
You’re left wondering: did Carl finally get what he wanted? Or did he just manage to convince himself he did to avoid confronting a life defined by a story no one else fully believes?
Either way, the ending lands less like a scream and more like a slightly painful exhale.
Why It Works (Even If It’s Not What You Thought You Ordered)
Skyman is absolutely not for everyone. If you want:
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Tons of action
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Obvious scares
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Aliens strutting around in 4K detail
…this movie is going to feel like waiting for a UFO that never quite lands.
But if you’re into:
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Character-driven weirdness
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Found footage used as faux-documentary rather than panic cam
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Stories where the horror is mostly existential
…it’s kind of a gem.
The performances sell it. Carl feels like a real person you might meet in some small town bar, the kind of guy who pulls you aside to quietly share his encounter story, eyes bright and a little sad. Gina feels like the sibling who’s heard it all and still doesn’t have the heart to tell him to shut up. The mockumentary style makes it all a little too plausible, in that low-budget “this could be your neighbor’s cousin” way.
And the dark humor comes from recognition: we all know someone clinging to something—aliens, conspiracies, past glories, niche beliefs—because the alternative is admitting their life didn’t go the way they’d hoped. Carl’s just doing it with stargazing and homebuilt antennas instead of Facebook memes.
Final Transmission
Skyman may have been marketed like a found-footage horror flick, but at its best, it’s more like a sad, funny little UFO doc about belief, trauma, and refusing to let go of the one thing that ever made you feel special.
It’s:
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Low-key
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Offbeat
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Quietly unsettling
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Surprisingly compassionate
Think of it less as “the next Blair Witch” and more as “Close Encounters if the government never showed up, the mothership ghosted you, and you ended up explaining it all to a small camera crew on your 40th birthday instead.”
And honestly? That might be the most realistic alien-abduction story anyone’s told.
