This is a graphic horror film. It’s not intended for young children. If you are under 13, do not watch this before discussing it with your parents! Seriously. Also, you should probably not watch it if you are at risk from sudden fear, anxiety or shock.
A woman answers the phone late at night and does not recognize the voice on the other end.
This is my own contribution to the specific horror genre exemplified by the series of Saw movies. It also has some of the qualities of the moral warning fairy tales in which awful things happen to innocents because of relatively minor errors in judgment.
It’s really fun to make a hardcore scary little movie for Halloween! I’ve wanted to make a horror film for quite a while and just never had the perfect opportunity. It’s a very simple film but it can really give some people a bad scare. Continue reading …
Well I’m just very pleased about this. The Downtown Film Festival Los Angeles has given my film, Yellow Plastic Raygun, the award for Best Experimental Film. I was having quite a nice week attending various parties and screenings at the festival. Its use of multiple locations in the heart of downtown Los Angeles gives one a real sense of taking part in the life of the city and being involved with something that’s helping to foster the exploding art and film scene in downtown. Most of the short films were screened in the new Civic Center Theater at the intersection of First and Main Streets, in the shadow of the famous City Hall tower that has appeared in so many crime shows and film noir classics. I attended the screening of my own film this past Saturday evening and was amazed at seeing it large since I had put so much work into it on small monitors. What’s great about the Downtown Film Festival is that it shows a wide range of filmmaking styles, crew sizes and budgets. They show films made with lots of production resources right alongside films made by individual artists working with inexpensive HD cameras and even cell phone cameras. I am very proud to have won this and I look forward to more great festivals in downtown Los Angeles from the people who put this together. Continue reading …
My new film is a silent one about wet, foggy colors. It was raining in December and the roses looked droopy under the weight of the water droplets. Then the camera started going in and out of focus and I thought it made a good color show so I started to learn how to make it happen more and how to make the focus flutter. So I think that what is out of focus in the film is more important than what’s in focus.
Here’s a new film for the film fans who happen to stumble by. It’s a film about memory shifts, searching, losing something, trying to find the old image, trying to regain an old feeling or impression, capturing a season of life or the mind. As if one were thinking, “I can almost remember how it was and what we did that day so long ago. Where were we again? North somewhere? It was dark? No, the sun was out… wait, it was cold… I think.
The Visit is a short animated film I was working on about 5 years ago. I was unable to finish. However, the story is so captivating to me and my drive to finish projects so strong that I am gearing up to complete the thing sometime this year (2014). The story is my adaptation of an old Ukrainian folk tale about a little girl who is cast out of her home to live in the forest. It’s a pretty serious and tough little story. No laughs really.
My latest little film. It’s actually a cinegram. The subject is trains. Time. Memory. The present doesn’t exist. You can’t find it with measurement. You can’t even define it. The future is not there yet. You cannot see it. The only thing that really exists is the past. I say that because we can all see the past – some more clearly than others. But we can most certainly see it.
A cinegram is a short motion picture that uses images and text that are packed with meaning and suggestion. It’s my new word for things I once referred to as film poems.
Here’s the poem from inside the movie:
Lunch With Bardot
Trains run on time With passengers asleep Temporarily forgotten Between observation points Colliding lines Of fictional transport