Tag Archives: Ryan McGlade

Reality Bites

My Imaginary Life for Someone

by Adam Barney

I hope this isn’t viewed as a cop out, but it is hard to explain My Imaginary Life for Someone. It must be experienced. It’s a film that is clearly not for everyone. For those who can match its wavelength, they will find a lot to like. Everyone else will walk out and be perplexed by what they just witnessed. This is precisely the type of film that we are always searching for to showcase in our Midnight programming branch of Nightmares Film Festival.

My Imaginary Life for Someone takes aim at Real Housewives or any of the other similar reality shows and does its best to take down the whole genre and the people in front of the cameras. It’s clear that writers / directors Molly Wurwand and Ryan McGlade have a real disdain for reality television and if you are of the same mindset, you are going to enjoy this broadside assault.

Filmed in a mockumentary style, the film dumps you right into a “labyrinth” of Los Angeles McMansions where the denizens get stranger and stranger. The reality stars are living in excess but probably aren’t fully sure how they got to where they are in life. They have nothing to worry about financially, but they also aren’t sure what they should be doing with their lives, so they spend their time collecting Princess Diana memorabilia, getting extreme plastic surgery, or listening to their own voices on tape.

There’s a lot of dream-like logic at play as the various homeowners show you around, tell you odd stories, or otherwise fill the silence of the void by endlessly talking. If you have ever caught the late-night programming of Adult Swim on Cartoon Network, you will quickly adapt to the vibe. It feels like a dry mix of Christopher Guest (Best in Show) and Jim Hosking (The Greasy Strangler, although this film is not gross).

My Imaginary Life for Someone will make you cringe, hate the characters, and wish for it to be over. And that is the whole point. It wants to show you that reality television is vapid, vacuous, and ultimately pointless and it does so by holding up a mirror to the genre.