1992. El Mariachi. Robert Rodriguez. $7,000.

1994. Clerks. Kevin Smith. $27,000.

1995. The Brothers McMullen. Edward Burns. $23,000.

1997. In The Company Of Men. Neil LaBute, $25,000.

They are among the biggest success stories of the micro-budget, do-it-yourself independent film movement of the 1990s. Four aspiring filmmakers who launched their careers with no-name casts and a fraction of one per cent of what a typical studio picture costs. In the process, they gave hope to the next generation of dreamers who, a decade later, would have unprecedented access to inexpensive digital video and editing equipment.

The result? The third highest-grossing movie this weekend was made for just $15,000 on a home video camera. It has already earned over $30 million and it hasn't even gone into wide release yet. I was reluctant to buy into the hype at first, and reluctant to add to it later, but only about a hundred and twenty-nine of my friends have asked me what I thought of Paranormal Activity, including my boss here at Five Sprockets.

One reason I'm reluctant to discuss the new smash hit is because I'm too biased. I simply don't like the mockumentary format. Especially the modern descendant of it -- the faux reality TV show. I haven't seen mockumentaries done right since Woody Allen's Zelig in 1983 and Rob Reiner's This Is Spinal Tap in 1984. Most recently, I found myself decidedly unimpressed with Cloverfield and District 9. So I'll make you a deal -- I won't dwell on my personal prejudice against the genre.

With that out of the way, I can honestly report that Paranormal Activity did manage to make a theatre full of paying moviegoers scream, ear-shatteringly so, at the simplest of cheap tricks: a door slamming. If that sounds like I'm mocking the film, I'm not. Getting a reaction from an audience is what it's all about. In fact, I have to admit, the movie did come rushing back into my head when I woke up in the middle of the night to investigate a strange noise in my un-haunted house.

The subtle, quiet, slow-build approach to suspense employed by Paranormal is far more effective than the more chaotic approach of the otherwise similarly executed DV horror mockumentary The Blair Witch Project from 1999. At the same time, going into Paranormal with expectations of The Exorcist will likely disappoint you. In comparison to my favorite movie of the year so far, Drag Me To Hell (just released on DVD last Tuesday), Paranormal is like a stroll through a carnival spook house ("Boo!"), while Sam Raimi's shocker is a ride on a demonic roller coaster.

Still, I'm happy for Oren Peli, the San Diego filmmaker behind Paranormal. When I meet people like him looking for cast and crew in exchange for food, credit and a copy of their finished film, the extreme long shot of reaching the brass ring Peli now owns makes my pessimistic side kick in. For every Smith, Rodriguez and Peli who makes it, there are hundreds, or possibly thousands, more who do nothing but waste the time of film festival judges around the world. Paranormal Activity is a pleasant reminder, though, that the next one to break out could come from my own back yard.

Dan Margules is a screenwriter and co-founder of San Diego Filmmakers. He doesn't know Oren Peli, but he began outlining his most recent spec script less than one mile from the house where Paranormal Activity was filmed. Spooky, huh? Dan's award-winning short film, Begleiter, is available in a Special Edition from Amazon.com or happy-the-dog.com. Happy Halloween!