I have a buddy named Stephen who's lived in LA for the past eight years. Stephen's in his late 40s, an accountant by trade, and after an unusually strong midlife crisis, he packed up his life in Boston and drove cross country to Hollywood - where he was only guy in film school with white hair. Stephen has shared many stories about the experience, especially those surrounding students' attempts at screenwriting. It's actually become a common joke among film teachers: every first year film student writes the same goddamn story. It always starts with two kids sitting in their dorm, when something "happens" that causes them to run off with their cameras. They leave their room, run down the hall and out onto campus - filming everything along the way. Their intention is to pass "steam of consciousness" as plot, but like writing a thesis without an initial outline, the result is often comedically amateurish.
"Where Have All The People Gone" should be required viewing for all young horror directors today. It isn't a found footage film; it's actually a pretty effective made-for-TV movie that was shot on a shoestring budget in 1974. (You can watch it for free on YouTube.) This film clearly had no pot to piss in - and I suspect most of its budget went toward paying Peter Graves' salary (in the same way that Trog's budget went to cover Crawford's bar tab) - yet the director found a way to make a few sprinkles of talcum powder seem scary as hell. There is no shaky camera work in the movie, but it does have the same "general wandering" that frequently makes found footage films seem lazy. When you've got the same special effects budget as an episode of Love American Style, you need a script with tighter direction than "Run through the woods and do something cool for Netflix."
I might miss out on a Blair Witch-sized opening night, but at least I won't have anything embarrassing popping up on your Netflix cue.