Co-created by Christoph Jorg, the three-part doc centers on two men: Dmitry Rybolovlev, a Russian billionaire who amassed his fortune via fertilizer and spent a year in prison on murder charges of which he was later cleared; and Yves Bouvier, a Swiss art dealer who built an empire creating art freeports, or high-security warehouses where the mega-rich can store and sell assets while avoiding paying duties or taxes.

Together, the men assembled one of the greatest private art collections in the world. Rybolovlev used a portion of his $6.7 billion to acquire iconic works by Rothko, Modigliani, Klimt, Picasso, and da Vinci. Bouvier brokered the sales for a fee.

Everything went splendidly between the two for over a decade: Rybolovlev spent an estimated $2 billion on art because, according to the series, owning masterpieces set him apart from his fellow billionaires, like, say, Elon Musk.

Then, in 2105, a war between the duo began when Rybolovlev accused Bouvier of secretly overcharging him to the tune of $1 billion. Bouvier insisted that he did nothing wrong.

Who was right or wrong isn't at the center of The Oligarch and the Art Dealer. Instead, Dalsgaard focuses on legal documentation — emails, text messages, financial statements - that were made public during litigation that reveal how the .00001 percent live. The series is a peek inside the rarefied world of billionaires, which makes for a fascinating, infuriating, can’t-take-your-eyes-off-it three-hour watch.

In the series, Bouvier sits for on-camera interviews, while Rybolovlev is represented through lawyers and his former financial director. Journalists and art dealers who worked with Bouvier put the legal documents in layman's terms, effectively pulling back the curtain on the secretive world of the ultra-wealthy.

Dalsgaard was in Denmark to screen all three episodes of The Oligarch and the Art Dealer at the 23rd edition of the Copenhagen International Documentary Film Festival (CPH:DOX). The series' first episode premiered at Sundance.

We asked Dalsgaard about making a series without a hero and why The Oligarch and the Art Dealer is Shakespearean.

Director Andreas Dalagaard on Making The Oligarch and the Art Dealer

MovieMaker: Was it difficult to create a series around two characters you don't necessarily trust?

Andreas Dalsgaard: For me, as a storyteller, that was what was really interesting, because here it was, a story with billions at stake. But at the center of it is an unreliable character, Bouvier, and also his opponent, Rybolovlev. They have so much at stake, they can't speak the truth. We, as filmmakers, but also you, as the audience, are pawns in that game because it's not just a game that's fought out in courts. It's not just a game that's fought with lawyers. It's also about controlling the narrative and bending the narrative. I found it very interesting to tell the story in a way, so the audience becomes part of that game and understands what the game is and how to navigate it themselves.

MovieMaker: There is no real hero to root for in The Oligarch and the Art Dealer. How did you approach that, and was it difficult?

Andreas Dalsgaard: Yes and no. It's a story about two middle-aged white guys with much too much money, and who cares who wins. But then at the same time, the series gives this unique insight into a world that we only get to watch superficially when we see yachts outside St. Bart's, Monaco or Miami from social media. But we can't really see what goes on, partly because there's this big service structure that services these very rich people, so that we don't get to see what actually goes on. When you look at the story also a bit at a distance, it's, it's almost Shakespearean.

MovieMaker: How so?

Andreas Dalsgaard: Shakespeare was telling stories about kings and dukes and how their greed or their very fraught human nature ends up becoming their undoing. [This series] is super relevant because it helps us understand what construes the world we live in today. And then it's also a very basic entertaining drama of lies and manipulation.

MovieMaker: Did you ever feel like Rybolovlev's and Bouvier's people were using you as a way to prove their case to the public?

Andreas Dalsgaard: They were definitely using us, and that's very much the case in many stories like this, where the media is a tool. Our job as filmmakers is to use that for the benefit of the film so that they actually get on camera, tell their stories, and then it's our job to balance it and balance it not only fairly, but also accurately. 

You can read more of our film festival coverage here.

Main image: The Oligarch and the Art Dealer.

Editor's Note: Corrects main image

The director, who won an Academy Award that same year for the documentary short “The White Helmets," took the book but didn't immediately read it.

"From my experience, when somebody approaches you cold at an event, it doesn’t normally end up being the story of your dreams," Einsiedel said. "But as soon as I started reading, I realized I’d been an idiot."

The book, titled The Amazing Story of the Man Who Cycled From India to Sweden for Love, tells the story of PK Mahanandia, a poor Delhi street artist, and Anne-Charlotte von Schedvin (Lotta), a Swedish tourist. For 10 rupees, in 1975, PK sketched a portrait of Lotta. The 10-minute encounter proved fateful. PK and Lotta fell in love.

Einsiedel was captivated by the story and the "rich tapestry of universal themes" that it covered. So, in 2023, he began working on The Cycle of Love, a 98-minute documentary that chronicles PK and Lotta's unlikely love story and the 6,000-mile journey through Iran and Afghanistan that PK embarked on in 1977 to reunite with Lotta two years after their first encounter.

Through old letters, pictures, and contemporary interviews with PK and Lotta, as well as reenactments with actors, the inspiring doc tells the epic true-life adventure of a man risking everything for love.

Einsiedel was in Denmark to screen The Cycle of Love at the 23rd edition of the Copenhagen International Documentary Film Festival (CPH:DOX). The film premiered at Telluride.

We asked Einsiedel about directing actors, Priyanka Chopra Jonas' involvement in the doc, and why he thought CPH:DOX was a good fit for The Cycle of Love.

Orlando von Einsiedel on Making The Cycle of Love

MovieMaker: Your previous documentaries focus on hard topics, such as the rescue efforts of the Syrian Civil Defence in war-torn Aleppo ("The White Helmets") and the dangerous fight to protect Virunga National Park in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (Virunga). The Cycle of Love is a feel-good doc. What was it like to shift gears and take on a story like this?

Orlando von Einsiedel:  The short answer is that I might be getting old and soft. There are of course so many important and urgent stories in the world that deserve to be highlighted on screen. However I’ve been increasingly wanting to make a film that is unashamedly optimistic and brings feelings of joy and human connection — feelings which are often under celebrated but are so crucial to all of us.

MovieMaker: Was there any hesitation about making this doc since there weren't any old videos capturing PK's 6,000-mile cross-continental voyage?

Orlando von Einsiedel:  Yes, there was. I was really excited to tell the story after meeting PK and Lotta, but there were lots of challenges. In particular, as you note, limited archive footage from an event that happened more than 50 years ago. Sadly, PK didn’t have a documentary crew trailing his journey in the 1970s. However, as a filmmaker and storyteller, I loved how this pushed me and forced me to think in fresh ways.

MovieMaker: What was it like working with actors to make this documentary?

Orlando von Einsiedel: We had a brilliant theater actor, Chirag Lobo, improvising a younger version of PK, and we embarked on a journey following parts of PK’s original cycle route across Asia and Europe, meeting people along the way as he once did. We would street cast people on the day of filming, tell them that we were recreating PK’s journey 50 years later, and ask them if they would be open to a conversation with our actor.

The final form this all takes in the film stands on the shoulders of directors like Chloe Zhao, The Ross Brothers, Walter Salles, Michael Winterbottom, and Jonas Poher Rasmussen, and many others who have been experimenting and pushing documentary storytelling form and techniques.

MovieMaker: Did you ever consider making a narrative about this love story?

Orlando von Einsiedel:  Yes, at the very start of the project, when I couldn’t figure out how to do it in documentary form. PK and Lotta’s story is so dramatic that it’s almost unbelievable, and it also definitely has the kind of story arc that narrative films lean towards. However, since PK and Lotta are both very much alive, and so warm and charismatic, to me it felt wrong to not work out how to make this as a doc at this moment in time.

MovieMaker: How did Priyanka Chopra Jonas become an executive producer on this project?

Orlando von Einsiedel:  One of our EPs showed Priyanka an early cut of the film, and she responded enthusiastically. She had known about PK's story already, and she loved the way we brought it to life for a film audience. Like us, she felt PK’s story transcends borders and nationalities.

MovieMaker: Why was CPH:DOX a good fit for this film?

Orlando von Einsiedel:  To be honest, I was a bit nervous about how European audiences would receive the film. We have had some incredible responses at American festivals such as Telluride, The Hamptons, and Middleburg, but I didn’t know how it would translate on this side of the world. Thankfully, we needn’t have worried. CPH:DOX is such a brilliant festival, and audiences engaged with the film just as strongly as they had across the pond.

The Cycle of Love is seeking U.S. distribution.

You can read more of our film festival coverage here.

Main image: The Cycle of Love

It was 2024 and Teng, a former documentary commissioner for Al Jazeera English and a New York Times journalist, was fed up with the Israel-Hamas War.

“It was very difficult to see people that I respected in journalism and Al Jazeera being targeted and executed,” Teng said during a Q&A in Copenhagen Tuesday. 

The director was in Denmark to screenAmerican Doctor at the 23rd edition of the Copenhagen International Documentary Film Festival (CPH:DOX). The film premiered at Sundance. 

“A year into the genocide, I didn’t have any more words, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone,” Teng said while speaking with TIFF programmer Thom Powers at CPH:DOX’s Kunsthal Charlottenborg. “I was very angry. And then came despair. I didn’t know what to do with those emotions.”

Then Teng, the producer of the Oscar-nominated St. Louis Superman and Emmy Award–winning executive producer of Patrice: The Movie, saw Dr. Mark Perlmutter on TV. The Jewish American physician was speaking to a reporter about his recent trips to Gaza, where he volunteered his services at a local hospital. 

Teng was impressed with not only Dr. Perlmutter’s work in Palestine but also his candid response to a question about Israeli politics and ceasefire pledges.

“He said, ‘There is no ceasefire,’” Teng recalled. “I was like, ‘Who is this guy?’ So, I looked him up.”

Teng met Dr. Perlmutter in New York City. He introduced her to fellow physicians, Dr. Thaer Ahmad, a Palestinian-American, and Dr. Feroze Sidhwa, a non-practicing Zoroastrian American. Together all three doctors were risking everything to save lives in Gaza. Teng knew immediately that she had to make a documentary about the trio.

“For years, I believed the industry didn’t need another (doc) director,” Teng told Powers. But as a citizen of the United States, she felt compelled to make the film.

“I wanted to bring this reality home to American audiences.” Teng said. “This is not just Israel’s war on Gaza. It is America’s war, with billions of dollars of American weapons being used to kill children and the innocent.”

Poh Si Teng on Making American Doctor

Production on the 93-minute doc began in December 2024. Initially Dr. Perlmutter planned on getting Teng into Gaza as a scrub nurse, but the director knew that wouldn’t work.

“I was like, ‘Mark, the Israelis control the border. Anybody who does a cursory search in my name will know that I’m not a scrub nurse,’” Teng said.

So, the director hired two local Palestinian cinematographers, Arthur Nazaryan and Ramzy Haddad, and worked remotely with the doctors as they volunteered in Nasser Hospital in Khan Yunis, south of the Strip.

“They shoot people with cameras there,” Teng said. “So, it is such a big ask to say, ‘Can you film here with these doctors?’”

Nazaryan and Haddad asked Teng: “Please bring the story back to the U.S.”

American Doctor begins with Dr. Perlmutter showing Teng photographs of Palestinian children who have been killed. Teng isn’t sure if she should include the brutal photos in a film. She is concerned about protecting the dignity of the children.

"You're not dignifying them unless you let their memory, their bodies, tell the story of this trauma, of this genocide,” Dr. Perlmutter tells Teng in the film. “You're not doing them a service by not showing them. This is what my tax dollars did. That's what your tax dollars did... You pixelate [the photos], that's journalistic malpractice."

American Doctor also shows the physicians forced to decide who they can try to save from among an overwhelming number of patients.

Throughout the film, the doctors’ harrowing work treating open wounds and severed limbs is intermixed with their efforts to communicate with the Western media about the unspeakable brutality happening in Gaza due to Israel’s air strikes. It’s a futile effort often met with indifference.

At an American Doctor Q&A at Sundance, Dr. Ahmad admitted that he was initially skeptical of Poh’s efforts. “I said, ‘I really hope it’s worth all of your time and effort and the entire team that put this together.’ I just felt like people would not be interested in hearing this.”

While American Doctor has not yet secured a U.S. distributor, Teng said that she hopes Americans eventually get a chance to see it.

 “If they see it, they would not be okay with this,” Teng said. “No one would be okay with it.”

You can read more of our film festival coverage here.

Main image: American Doctor, courtest of CPH: DOX.

The film, which just premiered at SXSW, uses penis-enhancement procedures as a kind of metaphor for modern insecurities about manliness. Director Daniel Lombroso lingers on small but telling details.

At one point, an anonymous man receiving shots to increase the girth of his member says, enviously, that some of his friends are so well-endowed that women refuse to have sex with them.

He leaves unclear why being too large to have sex would be better than actually having sex. But the moment underlines the film's observation that some men, succumbing to porn, podcasts, and other pressure, care more about appearances than behavior.

Bill Moore, the main subject of the doc, argues early in Manhood that deflating your bank account a bit to inflate your penis can be a good investment. He sees Big Dick Energy as a very real thing, and thinks his patented girth-enhancement procedure can provide men the confidence they need to jumpstart their lives.

His technique increases girth through a series of injections that cost thousands of dollars per session. And his success is proof that at least one man has prospered from penis enlargement. (An important caveat: He's focused on width, not height, which he says can't be easily increased.)

Lombroso and his Manhood team step back and let their subjects tell their stories without judgment, an approach that yields some jaw-dropping moments. The director was drawn to the subject in part due to the secrecy around the procedure.

"I do think it's becoming more common. There's no statistics," Lombroso said. "We tried to nail it down, but anecdotally, when I started the project, there were a few clinics, and now there's 32 — in every major city."

In a Q&A after a screening of Manhood Monday, Lombroso and his team tried to place penis enlargment within the context of a masculinity crisis, looksmaxxing, and the Manosphere of male-skewing podcasters.

"We're in obviously a really bizarre news time, and truth is up for debate. And a lot of people treat podcasts like the news right now," said Kerry Mack, one of the film's producers. "With the inundation of information, we just hear voices, and it's really difficult to parse out who is a journalist and who's some fucking guy with a microphone."

Besides Moore, Manhood mostly on Ruben Ramirez, a father of five who pays thousands for penis enlargement before running into money troubles, and David, a young man hiding his homosexuality and amateur video stardom from his religious mother.

David gets injections to be bigger for the cameras, but undergoes a disastrous enlargement procedure — not at the hands of Moore. David spends much of the film trying to line up a procedure to remove the remnants of it. Telegenic and kind to everyone, he's an excellent PSA about the potential perils of penis enlargement.

How Manhood Director Daniel Lombroso Got Men to Open Up About Penis Enlargement

During Monday's Q&A, Lombroso explained that he worked at The New Yorker before departing to make the film, which raised the eyebrows of some of his colleagues. He was able to win the trust of his Manhood interview subjects by first gaining the trust of Moore, and then by sitting in his waiting room, asking his patients if they would be willing to discuss their procedures on-camera.

Many did — some anonymously, and some with no reservations.

"I would just sit in the waiting room and introduce myself to everyone who had come in. And the patients were extraordinary," Lombroso said. "Many of them were not identified in the film, but I met a very famous megachurch pastor; a border patrol agent; a father of five, Ruben; a dairy farmer; and a divorcee back on the market. We just tried to be really patient with them and wait till they felt comfortable."

Ramirez, who attended the Q&A with Moore and the filmmakers, expressed no regrets about the procedure, or appearing in the film. He's a comedian and big fan of comedy-adjacent podcasts, including The Joe Rogan Experience.

He says in Manhood that he first learned about penis enlargement from an appearance by Moore onYour Mom's House podcast, a podcast hosted by Christina Pazsitzky and Tom Segura.

"It's just not something we talk about," he added Monday. "Even guys, just a couple guys together. It's still awkward to talk about it."

Ramirez said going public about the procedure was about being open, just as he is in his comedy.

"I tend to live by the moment," he said. "I mean, even deciding to get the shots because I heard it on the podcast.

He also said he recommends the procedure: "I would tell any guy who wants to consider it, why not? Instead of getting that BMW, just get the Civic [and a] big cock."

Moore, meanwhile, said he hoped the film would make men be more open about cosmetic surgery.

"I think what this film questions is, why is it so hard for men to talk about having a cosmetic procedure when it's so easy for a woman to talk about it at the dining room table, in front of the pastor, if he happens to be sitting there?" Moore said. "But yet men have to be insecure and hide and not able to be open about themselves."

He added: "What makes you a strong masculine man is understanding that you have insecurities and that you're able to open up and talk about those with your friends."

Manhood premiered at SXSW and plays again Thursday. You can read more of our SXSW coverage here.

Main image: Bill Moore in Manhood. Courtesy of SXSW

“Lauren and I actually worked as personal trainers at Equinox Hollywood before we worked together as filmmakers,” Rooni recalls. “We both watched each other write, crowdfund, and produce our own first short films while maintaining a full roster of clients. We recognized that grit in each other.”

The pair went on to compete in two short film challenges, and then made a short together, “Gen V,” a comedy thriller that follows a young vampire girl navigating high school. The film, which includes LGBTQ+ themes and an allegory about being Muslim in the United States post 9/11, won a development deal with Adi Shankar’s Bootleg Universe. 

“We always found a way to prioritize each other’s identity and POV in what we did,” Rooni says.

Same Same But Different, which Rooni wrote and Noll directed, follows three Iranian-American women: Rana (Medlion Rahimi), Set (Layla Mohammadi) and Nadia (Rooni). Rana is looking forward to returning home to Iran after a job in Cape Cod working for a wealthy family whose patriarch is dying. She’s also neatly tying up a summer fling with his son, Adam (Logan Miller) when Adam hits her with an out-of-nowhere wedding proposal that would allow her to stay in the U.S. 

Her friends Set and Nadia arrive with their partners in tow, and all stay in the same beautiful seaside house for the wedding weekend. The cast also includes Kevin Nealon, Joey Lauren Adams, and Noll in key roles, as well as Nicholas Coombe as Set’s lawyer-turned-plumber partner, Nolan, and Michael Baszler as Nadia’s best friend turned boyfriend, Ryan. 

We asked Rooni, who wrote Same Same But Different, and Noll, who directed the film, about life informing art.

Dalia Rooni and Lauren Noll on Making Same Same But Different

MovieMaker: Can you talk about how Same Same But Different came to be? 

Dalia Rooni: Same Same But Different was inspired by a real weekend that I now see as the turning point of my life.That weekend, in a sprawling summer house perched on a perfect stretch of beach, I came face-to-face with profound realizations about who I was and who I wanted to become. In many ways, we all did. Alongside the joy, there was something else, something that felt almost like grief. For the first time, I understood what it meant to lose my innocence. I felt the quiet, painful threshold of becoming a woman.

Lauren Noll: Dalia and I wanted to work on our first feature together, and when she told me this story, I knew it was the one. Within days, we were brainstorming in a coffee shop over Dalia’s first draft. That was two years ago now. Dalia calls Nadia the version of herself she was when she and I first met. 

Many of Nadia’s wildest moments in the script are pulled from real-life stories that I was in the room for, including the moment when she realized she was in love with her best friend, “Ryan.” I’d been third-wheeling the real Nadia and Ryan for years, so I was incredibly invested in these characters before they even hit the page. 

MovieMaker: I can't imagine the mix of emotions having your film about the complex dynamics of three Iranian-American women coming out at SXSW at the same time the United States and Iran are suddenly at war. How are you holding up and trying to process all of this?

Dalia Rooni: You know, I wrote this film around the time the Woman, Life, Freedom movement began in Iran. That moment was very much the emotional backdrop for what Rana was going through, and for the push and pull so many Iranian immigrants were feeling — the tension between where you come from and where you are, and the helplessness of watching history unfold from afar.

So it’s surreal and honestly heartbreaking that the themes of the film feel even more urgent right now.

There’s a statistic I think about a lot: 80% of the roles portrayed by Middle Eastern actors on television fall into negative or threatening stereotypes. That reality makes it even more important to tell stories about Middle Eastern characters that are joyful, complicated, and deeply relatable.

It’s not enough to “humanize” our characters only in stories that tie MENA people to grief, war, oppression, or trauma. We also have to liberate them on screen! To let them be funny and messy and flawed and free. To let them live full lives that look a lot more like everyone else’s.

MovieMaker: One thing I found fascinating about this film was that the lead, Rana, really misses Iran — it isn't the typical immigration narrative where the protagonist is desperate to live in the United States. Can you talk about that layer of complexity, and how it factors into her decision to accept a green card marriage proposal?

Lauren Noll: I mean, we’re speaking to exactly why Rana is so torn up about this. Dalia feels that green card marriages are too often spoken about shallowly, and it was very important to her to honor the true stories of immigrants who, yes, may decide to take this path to stay in the States, but who feel the toll of not only the moral gray area of the decision but also giving up another piece of themselves. 

Finding belonging in that in between is challenging. Rana feels she belongs to Iran still, even though her dream will be more easily pursued in the States. So, we put Rana through the ringer in the story to make this very decision. 

Of the three women, she’s the most pure of heart. She’s someone who is driven by her intuition; she’s in tune with her gut. She’s been guided by it through her life to this point without fail, but in this moment, she can’t hear it. For Rana to do something without a clear conscience is a big deal. Even up to the night before the wedding, she’s looking for that peace of mind about this choice. She tries talking to her friends, hiring Adam’s shaman, calling her mom – all to no avail. 

She doesn’t want to take advantage, and she doesn’t want to “be saved.” She misses her mom. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever love him. She can’t tolerate lying. How does she ensure that she doesn’t lose herself and her own identity in the process? Does marrying this American boy make her less Iranian? She knows this could solve one big problem, but it will leave her with hundreds of new problems. We just dug into the humanity of it all.

MovieMaker: I'm a big fan of your line producer, Alecia Orsini Lebeda, who I see all the time at festivals and Massachusetts film events. Can you talk about working with her and the rest of the team to find all these great Cape Cod locations? And why Cape Cod?

Lauren Noll: Who doesn’t love Alecia?! We just wouldn’t have been able to execute production without her. The rest of us are based in L.A. and South Carolina. We needed boots on the ground. I went to Woods Hole Film Festival with my short “The Heart of Texas” in 2024, and I was on a mission to find my line producer for this project while I was there, and in walked Alecia to deliver a killer panel about filmmaking in Massachusetts. I cornered her and the rest is history. 

I not only found us a line producer in Massachusetts, I found us the line producer in Massachusetts. The crew that arrived to work on this film are a testament to her and the kind of leader she is. They all flocked to work on an Alecia Orsini Lebedi project, and we were so grateful to show up Day 1 to an incredible team who love the work they do as much as they love Alecia’s lunch time announcements. 

Carley Byers was brought in to secure the locations we still needed (the home had been found prior and is another fun story in and of itself), and she killed it. All we had to do was show up. Truly, they made our lives so easy so we could focus on the rest of the hard parts of making an indie.

Cape Cod was central to the event in Dalia’s life that inspires the story and it holds the spirit of the film. It couldn’t be anywhere else. 

MovieMaker: What was your biggest challenge on this movie, and how did you solve it?

Dalia Rooni: Ha! Just one? For me it was the fact that a week prior to production we found out that a McMansion was actively being built next door to the home we were filming in and tears were not enough to stop the build. And I’m not sure if you know this, but construction workers aren’t the most…communicative. 

We ended up creating a “indoor vs outdoor” shoot schedule that was color coded with RED (do not bang on things) YELLOW (sometimes bang on things) and GREEN (bang on as many things as you like), to share with the contractors and hopefully work around each other’s schedule. For this plan to work, everything needed to go according to plan: the weather, the actors, the shots, the light. Someway, somehow, it was a success.

Lauren Noll: Around the same time we were solving the above, I was sitting on the floor of my living room literally taking scissors to my 1st AD’s schedule and rearranging it (sorry, Tishna!) to make sure I could accommodate four different actors’ schedule conflicts. We had finally landed our dream cast and I wasn’t about to let a single one of them go. Tishna took it back from me and made my unrealistic Frankenstein schedule turn into an actual working one that accommodated all! My hero! 

The money came together one Lego block at a time — a little here, a little there. We didn’t know until three weeks before shooting that we actually had what we needed to roll cameras. 

We had to make you believe these actors in bikinis on the beach in April in Massachusetts were warm, so our post had a big job and they came in at the 11th hour as well. Every piece of it was a new problem to solve and a new miracle to answer. 

Same Same But Different premiered at SXSW and plays again Wednesday. You can read more of our SXSW coverage here.

Main image: (From top) Dalia Rooni, Medlion Rahimi and Layla Mohammadi in Same Same But Different. Courtesy of the film.

The film stars Day as Jimmy, a man who wakes up with slit wrists, in a tub of his own blood. He calls 911 and tells the operator (Allison Williams) that he needs help — and that it wasn't a suicide attempt.

Someone else did this to him. He's sure of it.

Soon Jimmy and the operator, Margot, are going down a rabbit hole through Jimmy's past and the list of people who might have had reason to both do him in and make it look like a suicide. The murderer's-row cast includes a Breaking Bad's Giancarlo Esposito, The Boys' Aya Cash, The Righteous Gemstones' Tony Cavalero, and Suspiria icon Jessica Harper.

The Development Process of Kill Me

You've probably seen that It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia meme from a classic episode in which Day's character goes into conspiracy mode. Imagine that, but played a little differently.

Warren doesn't take the suicide angle lightly in Kill Me — the film, funny as it is, treats Jimmy's battle with mental illness with respect, nuance, and compassion. Warren worked on a suicide-prevention hotline prior to the film.

When he first brought the idea to his agents, he saw it as a series, and they agreed. But when no one bought the idea, he wrote it, on spec, as a feature.

Meanwhile, Day and Keith Goldberg, a producer and executive with Dark Horse Entertainment (Umbrella Academy) were looking for a writer for a planned Netflix series. Warren submitted his script for Kill Me, which was then called Murder Suicide, as a writing sample.

Goldberg was impressed with the story, but also how sensitively the script dealt with Jimmy's depression.

"I read this script as a writing sample for the TV show, and I said to Charlie, 'Hey, I found our writer for our show. But also, like, this script is really good, we should just go make this,'" Goldberg said at Monday's post-screening Q&A.

The TV show didn't end up happening, but the movie did. Dark Horse teamed up with XYZ, which approached Vanishing Angle executive Natalie Metzger. Vanishing Angle and XYZ had previously worked together on the smart horror film The Wolf of Snow Hollow.

"As I was reading it, I was like, 'Gosh, this feels just like a script that I read.' And the more I read, I'm like, 'No, I've read this script before,'" Metzger recalled Monday.

She realized the had read Murder Suicide during the pandemic, an odd time for development in general. She advanced the idea of shooting the film in the Salt Lake City area, where it was ultimately shot.

"She's a magician when it comes to making things for the right price," Goldberg said.

The film, which underwent its helpful title change during development, leaves many things open to interpretation. Jimmy is at times suspicious of certain people around him, and we don't always know if he's right to be fearful of them, or if his mental illness is making him paranoid.

"I don't think anyone in that whole constellation wishes anything for Jimmy other than health and happiness, but it's still kind of a disaster, and they have a lot of very valid feelings of resentment, and they handle it with various levels of success," Warren noted.

The film is now seeking distribution.

Kill Me premiered at SXSW and plays again today. You can read more of our SXSW coverage here.

Main image: Charlie Day as Jimmy uses a blacklight to look for clues in Kill Me. Vanishing Angle

But I still wasn't prepared for what a total delight Normal is. The film is not, as I'd feared, another thriller about a seemingly ordinary person who turns out to have a very particular set of skills, honed through countless killings he longs to forget — a genre so perfected by Liam Neeson, Odenkirk, Kolstad and others in recent years that it deserves a nice break.

Normal is different. Odenkirk plays a lawman unlike most we see in movies lately, in that he not only tends to de-escalate, but to de-escalate too much. He avoids conflict at every turn.

Until he can't.

The first reel of the film is all setup, and the rest is payoff. Huge payoff. (I know sometimes people say "first reel" when they mean "first act," but in this case, it was a literal reel — SXSW presented the film in 35mm, at Austin's gorgeous Paramount Theatre, which added to the joy of the Normal experience.)

Director Ben Wheatley noted in his introduction that the film is a tight 90 minutes, so you won't even need a bathroom break. He keeps things moving with elegance and glee.

Bob Odenkirk, Derek Kolstad and Ben Wheatley on Normal

The exquisite buildup sequence is packed with one Chekhov’s Gun after another. The phrase refers to the dramatic principal that every element of a story, no matter how seemingly innocuous, must later come into play.

"You plant a seed to bring to creative harvest," Kolstad explained in a Q&A after the sceening.

Odenkirk shares a story credit with Kolstad, who wrote the script. The actor explained in the Q&A that his biggest contribution to the writing process was contributing to the the setups as his character, Ulysses, gets to know Normal, a forgotten Minnesota town with an odd mix of empty storefronts and incongruously vast wealth.

"I was able to contribute to the first part of the piece, which was the part where the town is funky, something's weird, and it's kind of funny, and the people are kind of cute, but not — there's something wrong," Odenkirk explained. "Derek is very open minded to people going, 'What about this?' 'What about that?' And so I've always felt very free to talk to him about ideas."

"Iron sharpens iron," Kolstad added. "Best idea wins."

Normal originated when Kolstad and Odenkirk were working together on 2021's Nobody, the film that launched Odenkirk as an action hero after decades in comedy and then years in TV drama. During a break in filming Nobody, Odenkirk asked Kolstad, who wrote the film, what else he was working on.

They developed Normal with producer Marc Provissiero, and all agreed to executive produce. When they finished work on last year's Nobody 2 in Winnipeg, they quickly rolled into filming Normal, even as temperatures dropped in the Canadian city. The cold weather is integral to the film's setting, and the atmospheric beauty of its bloody, imaginative action scenes.

In writing the town and townspeople of Normal, Odenkirk was inspired by both Garrison Keillor's 1985 novel Lake Wobegon Days and the 1971 small-town black comedy Cold Turkey, directed by Norman Lear. Kolstad, meanwhile, was inspired by the Rube Goldberg killings of the Final Destination movies.

So if you need a quick summary of Normal, you could go with Lake Woebegon Days meets Final Destination, in the best way possible. Then factor in the weather.

Kolstad is from Wisconsin and Odenkirk from Illinois, so both know bone-chilling midwestern winters. Wheatley, who is British, thought he was ready for the even harsher winters of Winnipeg, but he was wrong. The temperatures dropped below 30 degrees during production.

"My Canadian friends were warning, 'It's gonna be cold. It's gonna be cold,'" Wheatley recalled. He remembered thinking. Yeah, whatever.

"And then when we shot the scenes in the town, I remember walking out from my warmed up little trailer area and just feeling almost like my nose started crackling as it froze all the hairs, and I turned around and everyone had frost on their eyelashes," Wheatley laughed.

He was drawn to Normal by the talent involved, but also by the chance to work in a new genre. He moves fluidly from comedy to thrillers to horror, and Normal has elements of all. But he liked that the film, while set in the Midwest, is very much a Western.

"It's a Neo-Western, it's a sheriff in town. And I was so excited about that. And then once I read the script, it's this mixture of kind of the propulsive narrative, but also the kind of industrial accidents that happen within the story, which really works. There's a variety to it, but also randomness to it, which I really love."

Normal arrives in theaters April 16 from Magnolia Pictures. You can read more of our SXSW coverage here.

Main image: Bob Odenkirk in Ulysses in Normal. Magnolia Pictures.

The good thing about Bitcoin is that it is decentralized, peer-to-peer digital currency, untraceable and unregulated by any government.

The bad thing about Bitcoin is that it is decentralized, peer-to-peer digital currency, untraceable and unregulated by any government.

"Self Custody" investigates both the good and bad — but mostly the bad. It's inspired by the fact that millions of dollars in Bitcoin are lost each year to fraud, or simple forgetfulness. The title refers to the fact that Bitcoin owners bear sole responsibility for it.

The film played at a special SXSW screening Saturday night, where Patten was joined in a post-film Q&A by Entourage veteran Adrien Grenier, who makes a crucial, effective appearance in "Self Custody" as a distant and aloof chaos agent, as well as two-time UFC champion Henry Cejudo, who shows up late in the film to prove he's as tenacious an opponent onscreen as he is in the ring. Odette Annable also gives a strong, persuasive performance.

The 31-minute film, which Patten describes as more of a micro-feature than a short, is also out on Amazon Prime, Tubi and Plex. Patten is empathetic and compelling in the lead role of Scott, a dad and business owner with money troubles. He thinks he's saved when a friend and adviser (Michael Monks) tells him that he's sitting on a Bitcoin fortune, thanks to a signing bonus he received more than a decade ago.

But of course there's a catch: To access the money, Scott needs to remember both his old PIN code, and something called a seed phrase. Things quickly go downhill.

Grenier and Cejudo both said Saturday that they happily signed on to the film because Patten is a good friend. But Grenier also has another personal reason: He's a Bitcoin maxi, or true believer, who sees its advantages as far outweighing its negatives.

When Saturday's audience called out for him to define a "maxi," Grenier gamely explained: "It's someone who believes in Bitcoin above all other crypto, or s--- coins. That's a technical term, you know. There are two sides of the coin, or Bitcoin."

Diving back in, after the audience's laughter, he elaborated: "It's a pure technology that actually is like digital gold, whereas all these other coins, they have a lot of back doors. You can't actually access Bitcoin, and that's a feature, because it has all these checks and balances. Whereas all these other cryptocurrencies are essentially a fancy app, a fancy website."

Sound good? Here's the bad part again. Patten explained that there are drawbacks to all those checks and balances: He was sparked to make "Self Custody" by a friend's experience losing millions in Bitcoin because he couldn't figure out how to access it.

"A friend that had lost his job learned that in the past, he was gifted crypto, and he actually went on this journey to try to recover it," Patten said.

While researching the film, which he co-directed with Fernando Ferro, Patten learned of many other cases of people losing hundreds of millions of dollars in Bitcoin.

Garrett Patten on Shooting 'Self Custody' in Austin

Saturday's screening in Austin, held at the gorgeous Alamo Drafthouse Cinema Mueller, marked a homecoming for the film, which shot in the home of SXSW. The film has exceptionally high production values, which Patten credited to his Austin crew.

"For an indie film, you felt like you watched a feature, and that's all the crew," he said. "I mean, you can't do that in every city. I've shot in a lot of different cities, and Austin's got a lot to offer."

(He also discussed the benefits of filming in Austin during our recent Sundance panel on the Best Places to Live and Work as a Moviemaker.)

Grenier, who lives locally, was happy to get to film close to home.

"I'm a big proponent of the Austin film market and Texas in general," he said. "I want to start making projects that are within this region. You know, for selfish reasons, I want to be able to go home to my family at the end of the day, and with that $1.5 billion incentive now coming down from Texas government, I think that we're going to start making more projects."

The Stars of 'Self-Custody'

Patten has previously worked mostly behind the camera, producing projects including 2022's Bandit, with Josh Duhamel, Elisha Cuthbert and Mel Gibson, and last year's The Hand of Dante, with Oscar Isaac and Al Pacino.

He took acting classes in preparation for his leading role in "Self Custody," and enlisted his acting teacher, Monks, to play a key role in the film.

"We just had a great chemistry right from the beginning, and became very good friends, and being able to support him in something that he was doing, which is something I love to do, just became this great little symbiotic thing," Monk said. "His commitment to it was inspiring, and I wanted to be a part of it."

At one point (spoilers ahead), Monks' role required him to square off his Cejudo's character — a case of an expert in acting and an expert in competitive fighting meeting in the middle.

Cejudo said Monk coached him on how to make his punches look more convincing on camera, where faster isn't necessarily better.

"He was able to kind of coach me on the spot, because there's a lot of times where I would do a certain kick or certain punch, and it was just too fast," Cejudo explained. "You've got to be able to sell it, to kind of bring a little more that theatrical stuff to it."

The Q&A moderator, The Hollywood Reporter senior entertainment reporter Mia Galuppo,  observed that the fight scene features "a master of a craft and a master of a craft coming together — and that filmmaking, baby."

You may be hearing much more about "Self Custody" in the future. Patten noted in the Q&A that he's gotten a lot of interest from Hollywood in turning the film into a feature or show.

Grenier polled the audience on which would be better, and the vote was almost unanimous: "Self Custody" should be a show.

Main image: (L-R) "Self Custody" stars Michael Monks, Garrett Patten, Henry Cejudo and Adrian Grenier

"Self Custody" is now streaming on Prime, Tubi and Plex.

If Serling had to do it, they said, could he do it without mentioning the South? Or Black people?

The ridiculousness of the experience was one of Serling's motivations to create The Twilight Zone, in which he shrouded stories of social justice within the protective cloaks of genre and metaphor. He couldn't talk about struggling immigrants on network TV, for example. But he could talk about aliens. Or even tell stories in which we were the aliens. The goal, always, was expanding empathy.

The entrancing new documentary Serling, which premieres Monday at SXSW, pulls off the cinematic miracle of having Serling narrate his own life story. Director Jonah Tulis came upon the idea when he realized what a wealth of audio recordings Serling left behind when he died in 1975, at only 50 years of age.

"Because of the extensive archive of recordings we uncovered, we were able to tell this story almost entirely in Rod Serling’s own voice. We didn’t use any AI to recreate his voice, and we didn’t bring in an actor to imitate his voice," Tulis tells MovieMaker.

The film uses hours of footage from Serling's TV appearances, including introducing each episode of The Twilight Zone. It also stages remarkably effective re-enactments that feel very much in the spirit of the beloved show, which ran on CBS from 1959 to 1964 and has thrived in syndication and streaming in the decades since.

"We shot visual atmospheric recreations — in 4:3, black-and-white just like The Twilight Zone — using an actor," Tulis adds. "But what you hear in the film is all Rod Serling, speaking in the moment. Allowing Rod to guide the audience through his own life felt like the most honest way to tell this story. And ultimately, who better to tell the story of Rod Serling than Rod Serling himself?"

We asked Tulis about Serling's striking relevance today, how Serling circumvented censors and critics, and making the film with Leonardo DiCaprio's productin company, Appian Way.

Serling Director Jonah Serling on Rod Serling and The Twilight Zone

MovieMaker: You've said that Leonardo DiCaprio and his company Appian Way were essential to this film happening — that they had been in talks with Serling's estate and helped find financing for the doc. Why did they tell you they thought you were the right director for it?

Jonah Tulis: We all knew that Rod Serling had an extraordinary life and career that deserved to be told on film, but the challenge was figuring out how to tell it in a way that felt fresh and cinematic. Many of the key figures from that era have since passed away, so the traditional talking-head documentary approach was never going to fully capture the energy of who Rod was.

I did some preliminary research and uncovered some truly incredible archival materials, much of which has never been seen or heard before. It included dictations from throughout Rod’s life including letters, script notes and personal reflections. It became clear that Rod had, in a sense, left behind his own narration of his life. I realized at this point that Rod’s own voice could tell the story. The idea then became: what if the film unfolded almost entirely through Rod narrating his own life?

When I shared this approach with Appian Way, the Serling family and our partners at Verdi Productions, they immediately understood the creative strategy. What they responded to most was the idea that Rod himself would guide the audience through the film. His voice, his thoughts, and his words would be the spine of the documentary. They felt that approach honored who he was as a writer and storyteller.

Ultimately, they told me they believed I was the right director for the project because I wasn’t just interested in making a biography, I was interested in building a cinematic experience that let Rod Serling speak directly to audiences again.

MovieMaker: What similarities and differences do you see between Serling's fights with TV executives — when he was trying to talk about racial justice and other progressive ideas — and the modern clashes between TV stars and their networks? I'm thinking especially of Jimmy Kimmel being pulled from the airwaves temporarily, and Stephen Colbert's show being cancelled.

Jonah Tulis: These similarities are actually one of the main reasons I think telling this story today is more important than ever. While Rod worked in a very different television landscape than today, those same elements of control and censorship exist across all media. Networks and platforms still operate within commercial realities, and creative voices sometimes clash with those boundaries.

The big difference is that today artists often have more outlets which allows for more freedom. The Twilight Zone was very much birthed from these boundaries though, as he used the allegory of science fiction to tell these stories of race, politics and humanity.  

MovieMaker: Why do you think Serling had such a strong sense of fairness and justice? He seems like one of the most outspoken white people of his era in favor of equality and Civil Rights. 

Jonah Tulis: Rod was deeply affected by his experiences in World War II and that shaped his worldview profoundly. Rod came back from war with a deep skepticism and a strong belief that society had a responsibility to confront justice wherever it appeared.  His work was initially very much a way for him to “get it out,” but it evolved into something bigger and more important to him.

Rod believed storytelling wasn’t just entertainment, it was a way to ask difficult questions about the world we live in. He seemed to feel that if you had a platform as powerful as television, you had a responsibility to use it.  

MovieMaker: Some celebrities avoid politics today out of simple fear of offending anyone and hurting their marketability. But others just don't want to lecture audiences or preach to the choir. Did people in Serling's time accuse him of whatever the early '60s equivalent was of being "too woke"? Did conservatives accuse him of being a communist, or whatever they said about people who supported racial equality? 

Jonah Tulis: Absolutely. Many of Rod Serling’s views on war, politics, and racial injustice were incredibly controversial for television in the late 1950s and early 1960s. Sponsors and networks often pushed back on his scripts, and several of his early teleplays were rewritten or softened because executives worried about offending advertisers or viewers. In that sense, the tensions he experienced feel very familiar today. 

At the time, some television historians and critics even labeled him the “young angry man” of television. But that characterization misses the point. Serling wasn’t angry for the sake of being provocative, he was simply a writer who spoke his mind. His stories rarely delivered simple ideological messages and instead, they posed moral questions. They asked the audience to consider what it might feel like to be the outsider, the marginalized person, or the victim of injustice. 

Serling premieres Monday at SXSW and plays again throughout the festival. You can read more of our SXSW coverage here.

Main image: Rod Serling in a promotional behind the scenes image from The Twilight Zone. CBS

The film is written by her father, Mark Duplass, and directed by her mother, Katie Aselton, who tried through their daughter's childhood to spare her the near-constant rejection most actors face. But with Their Town, the couple gave her one of the most supportive possible projects in which to shine, and she does.

The 18-year-old is strikingly good as Abby, whose boyfriend drops out of co-starring with her in their high school's play. His last-minute replacement is a quiet stagehand, Matt (IT star Chosen Jacobs, also fantastic). As Abby and Matt wander around one night in their hometown of Bangor, Maine, they discover unexpected connections. The film's final moments are especially beautiful.

Aselton and Mark Duplass have worked together many times throughout their marriage, including in the 2005 mumblecore classic The Puffy Chair, which brothers Mark and Jay Duplass wrote and directed together, with Mark and Aselton playing the leads. Since then, all have made and starred in projects big and small, becoming models of indie filmmaking.

Their Town arrives at SXSW 11 years after Mark Duplass gave a much-celebrated speech at the Austin festival in which he advised indie filmmakers that "the cavalry is not coming" and urged them to lead their own projects.

His family's new film epitomizes that approach.

Katie Aselton, Mark Duplass and Ora Duplass on Making Their Town

Working with family is always hard, and the parents and teenagers of the world aren't known for getting along. Aselton says she was nervous about working with her daughter, who was 16 during filming. But the family did a lot of logistical and emotional prep.

"It was a lot of conversations with Ora, and my therapist, and with Mark late at night in bed, just being like, 'It's going to be so hard'," says Aselton. "But we did enough of the work in advance that when we got there, everyone was on their best behavior. Everyone knew what needed to be done, and I will credit Ora for being incredibly emotionally intelligent and knowing when she needed to step up."

She laughs: "And it was also only a 12-day shoot, so we really only had to hold on to these personas for 12 days."

Austin is an especially apt launchpad for the film because it was inspired in part by the city's greatest filmmaker, Richard Linklater. Mark Duplass grew up in New Orleans and remembers driving 80 miles to Baton Rouge to see Linklater's Before Sunrise in 1995, when he was about the age Ora is now. The film follows two young travelers, Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke, who forge an unforgettable connection over a single night in Vienna.

Mark Duplass remember being struck by "the dignity that I thought that they gave to the thoughts of people in their early 20s, and a sense of humor about it too. It didn't feel like Linklater was on a mission to, like, show me that these kids were deep. It was loose, it was casual, it was sweet."

The same is true of Abby and Mike's unforced dynamic in Their Town. Ora Duplass was struck by the emotionality of scenes that, on the page, seemed straightforward.

"You find these moments when you read the script, that you didn't think you would feel, when actually acting it out. Through performing, you feel these connections to your real life in a way that I didn't totally think I would. It really helped the emotion come through, but also personal growth," she says.

Mark Duplass wrote the script with his daughter in mind, drawing on her friendships and disappointments. Aselton, meanwhile, knew when to ask more of her, and when to back off. She drew on a familiarity that only comes from knowing someone for their entire life.

By keeping Abby and Mike in motion for much of the movie, the film frees them from the addictive doomscroll trap that brings so much anxiety and depression to the modern young. But the realities of modern life are always in the background, along with a nostalgia for the '90s, when Duplass and Aselton came of age.

"I think it's really important to show that these kids aren't clueless," Ora Duplass says. "They know what's going on in the world and it affects them."

When she was growing up with her parents and sister, Molly, Ora always wanted to someday star in a Disney show. But her parents urged her to enjoy childhood.

"I was very eager," she says. "And at five years old, when you're watching a show and you're like, 'Let me be an actor,' I think it's pretty fair for them to be like, 'Go play.'"

But last summer, she was cast in a project about as different as you can get from a DIY indie: She'll star in the new series Coven Academy, coming soon to the Disney Channel and Disney+.

"The truth is, Ora said, 'I'm going to be on a Disney show,'" Aselton laughs. "And the reality is, yeah, he was correct."

Their Town premieres Saturday at SXSW and plays again during the festival. You can read more of our SXSW coverage here.

Main image: Chosen Jacobs and Ora Duplass in Their Town. Courtesy of Duplass Brothers.

They don't really love the word "vigilante," and would probably prefer "hero." But the film leaves it up to viewers to decide whether they're driven by heroism, altruism, ego, insecurity, or some combination of them all. Sometimes it looks like they're having a lot of fun, and other times they seem as haunted as Batman.

Reports of Phoenix Jones' late-night Seattle patrols started in 2010. The city is an intriguing backdrop for the doc, especially as it becomes a frequent focal point for demonstrations and protests, including against traditional law enforcement.

At times it seems like Phoenix Jones (our editorial policy is not to reveal secret identities) may be able to be a champion for the people in ways that police can't. At other times, the people view him with skepticism, or as an agent of the powers that be. And at still other times, he himself has issues with the law.

Joonam went all in on understanding Phoenix Jones, spending years with the costumed crusader and witnessing acts of quiet heroism that never made the news. We asked him about what it's like to get to know a real-life superhero — and the man behind the mask. We asked him about his research, Jones' curious origin story, and how to be a hero today.

Director Bayan Joonam on the Quest to Make Phoenix Jones: The Rise and Fall of a Real Life Superhero

MovieMaker: You previously made QAnon — The Search for Q. Are you especially interested in secret identities?

Bayan Joonam: Ha, I never actually put that together before. I think great documentaries generally focus on a specific question.

With Phoenix Jones, his real identity was never the mystery. I already knew who was behind the mask. The question was: What kind of person decides to become a superhero in the real world? I am exploring the psychology of someone who chooses to live inside a self-created myth. 

But the connection between the two projects really comes down to curiosity. I’m drawn to people who are shaping culture in unusual ways. Also, as someone who has loved the superhero genre as long as I can remember, I came to see this film as my contribution to it.

MovieMaker: How much time did you spend with Phoenix Jones, and over what time period? 

Bayan Joonam: We spent about six years creating this project. Over that time I’d estimate we spent roughly six months together in total. For about a month of that, he actually lived with me in the Airbnb I was renting in Seattle, which gave me a much deeper window into who he is when the cameras aren’t rolling.

MovieMaker: How did you feel when parts of his backstory started to seem inconsistent? Was it more "this is bad for the doc" or "this is great for the doc"?

Bayan Joonam: His ability to spin a yarn is second to none, which is part of what makes him such a compelling subject. During interviews, I took mental notes on details that needed investigation, then built timelines to corroborate or challenge those accounts with other participants.

Like most good fabrications, there is usually a grain of truth somewhere inside the story. So separating fact from fiction became a central task in making the film.

To be fair, in many cases the stories actually turned out to be true, like the one he told about meeting Bill Clinton. That tension between myth and reality became one of the most interesting parts of the documentary.

MovieMaker: Watching this, I thought about how hard it is for anyone to be a public hero today, because any good deed will be seen as virtue signaling, or too good to be true. Do you have any thoughts on that?

Bayan Joonam: That’s a great takeaway, and I think you’re right. It’s incredibly difficult for anyone to maintain “hero” status in today’s environment because the internet eventually exposes every contradiction. And the reality is that none of us are perfect.

Superheroes work in movies because the narrative is clean. Real life isn’t. People are complicated, and the moment someone is elevated to hero status we immediately start looking for the flaws that bring them back down to earth.

At the same time, I think the best superheroes reflect our national identity. Phoenix Jones is not a superhero that could be engineered in a writers room, but he is undeniably the superhero that our society has shaped into existence.

MovieMaker: Do you think Phoenix Jones genuinely wanted to do good? Or to gratify his own ego? Or both?

Bayan Joonam: I think it’s both.

You have to ask yourself what conditions create a person who decides to dress up like a superhero and partol the streets looking for crime. Central to his story is the fact that he was given up for adoption at birth, which I think connects to his creation of a larger-than-life persona as a way of proving his value to himself and the world.

But in his daily life, when he's not wearing the suit and sees someone with car trouble on the side of the road, he pulls over to help. He does a lot of things that never make the news or social media. I genuinely believe he wants to help when he sees someone in need.

Phoenix Jones: The Rise and Fall of a Real Life Superhero plays Friday and Monday at SXSW. The film is currently seeking distribution.

Main image: Phoenix Jones in Phoenix Jones: The Rise and Fall of a Real Life Superhero.

"I loved how those elements could connect to build narrative through image, sound, and movement," she recalls.

When she graduated from Toronto Metropolitan University, she began her career at companies such as Rogers Sports & Media before becoming head of brand and marketing at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2023.

"Early in my career, I had the chance to work across film, design, animation, and media," Margaret says. "This gave me a broad foundation in both storytelling and how creative projects come together at scale." Over time, that experience grew into building creative teams and shaping brand direction for media platforms and cultural organizations such as TIFF.

It's her artistic sentiment that has kept her going. Margaret Lee is passionate about visual storytelling and experimentation — conceptualizing and directing projects, photographing filmmakers and artists, and shaping the creative identity of institutions and brands.

"Today my work moves between those areas," she says, "combining creative leadership with directing, photography, and collaborations with cultural organizations and creative partners."

Shaping global identities

TIFF is one of the world’s most prestigious film festivals. Launched in 1976, it showcases Hollywood, independent, and international cinema. The festival screens 300–400 films and attracts hundreds of thousands annually. Held in September, it is often seen as a precursor to the Academy Awards.

As head of brand and marketing, Margaret Lee oversees TIFF's brand, marketing, creative, content, editorial, digital, and retail teams, all of which align to shape a global identity for the year-round cultural organization. She describes it as balancing culture, creativity, and business to drive audience growth, revenue, and brand equity.

"At its core, my work is about shaping how one of the world’s leading film festivals connects with global audiences while supporting filmmakers, artists, and celebrating cinema," Margaret says.

Since joining TIFF in 2022, she says, leading the creative and brand strategy for the festival’s 50th edition in September 2025 has been a milestone.

She describes TIFF's 50th edition as an "opportunity to honour five decades of cinema," while also reimagining how a global festival can engage audiences emotionally across both digital and in-person experiences, as it looks toward the future.

Another achievement has been spearheading the evolution of the TIFF Shop at the TIFF Lightbox in Toronto. The store also extends online, offering merchandise, cinema books, and collectibles, while the physical space hosts experiences such as book signings and special pop-up collaborations.

As part of this transformation, Margaret collaborated with her team and TIFF’s partners to reimagine the shop as an extension of TIFF’s broader brand and cultural presence, positioning it as a year-round hub for film lovers beyond the festival itself.

“Through in-house merchandise and collaborations, it has become a destination for film lovers,” she says, “and a way for audiences and fans to take a piece of the festival experience with them.”

A consummate artist

A lot of the skills she's put to work at TIFF were honed in her previous role at Rogers Sports & Media, the media and broadcasting division of Rogers Communications, one of Canada’s largest telecommunications companies. At Rogers, Margaret led a 40-person team and directed large-scale rebrands, campaigns, and multi-platform initiatives across broadcast, digital, e-commerce, social, and radio. In total, she spent nearly a decade at the company in senior creative leadership roles.

Throughout her career, she has also worked as a photographer and director. Margaret’s portrait and editorial photography with filmmakers, celebrities, and cultural figures has reached millions across digital channels. Denis Villeneuve, Cate Blanchett, Jodie Foster, Park Chan-wook, and Lee Byung Hun have all stood for their portraits.

"Those experiences gave me a unique perspective on the film industry," says Margaret, "and how images become part of cinematic history."

Her client list should sound familiar to anyone. Margaret has worked with The New Yorker, Neiman Marcus, HBO, FX, Sesame Street, United Airlines, and Hollywood Reporter, to name a few higher-profile collaborations.

For The New Yorker, her work was featured in its Arts issue. Margaret's illustrations and story were inspired by a transatlantic crossing from New York to England and were later exhibited as part of the magazine's "Passport to the Arts" gallery event.

"I’m particularly drawn to projects that sit at the intersection of culture, creativity, and innovation," she says. "And I’m passionate about elevating underrepresented voices, building teams, and creating work that resonates globally."

Full circle

One interesting career moment for Margaret came via a project she did with David Cronenberg for the film eXistenZ, a 1999 science fiction horror film that has attained a cult status since its release. Margaret was part of the design team that created the movie's title sequence. 

"It was a formative experience that showed me how image, motion, and sound can establish the emotional tone of a film from the very first frames," says Margaret. Years later, she crossed paths with Cronenberg at TIFF Lightbox, where she had the opportunity to photograph him.

"It felt like a full-circle creative moment," she says.

Thinking of the future, Margaret is drawn to directing, a natural evolution for someone with her camera eye. She remains influenced by cinema, music and art, and these impact the brands she works with, the images she creates, and the stories she tells. Photography remains a constant, one that sharpens her instincts and helps her to connect with different characters. As a Korean Canadian, she is committed to bringing more voices and perspectives to the picture.

"Ultimately, I’d like to create work with a meaningful contribution to culture," she says, "the kind of art that helps stories and artists be remembered."

Main image: Margaret Lee – Toronto International Film Festival Tribute Awards

The day started with a collection of comedy, sci-fi, drama, mystery, musical and documentary films, which culminated in "The Singers," the genre-bending and innovative latest from Sam A. Davis. The film is nominated for Best Live Action Short Film at the 98th Academy Awards, and Davis was previously nominated Best Documentary Short Film for the 2023 short film "Nai Nai & Wài Pó."

The NFMLA event continued InFocus: Counter-Ageism, a collection of films that featured aging protagonists, narratives that challenge stereotypes about age and the fear of aging and filmmakers whose work challenges those same stereotypes.

The night concluded with the West Coast Premiere ofThe Long Run, the sophomore feature film of writer-director and NFMLA alum Mylissa Fitzsimmons. The road-trip film offers an existential reflection on the nature of ambition and friendship, as two strangers hitch a ride together towards their dreams. 

NFMLA showcases films by filmmakers of all backgrounds throughout the year, across both our general and InFocus programming. All filmmakers are welcome and encouraged to submit their projects for consideration for upcoming NFMLA Festivals, regardless of the schedule for InFocus programming, which celebrates representation by spotlighting various communities of filmmakers as part of the NFMLA Monthly Film Festival. This project is made possible in part by grant support from the City of Los Angeles Department of Cultural Affairs (DCA).  

“Disco Beats” directed by Ken Arquello

About Ken: ‘Disco Beats’  is Ken’s film directorial debut that was awarded Best Short Film at the Fort Lauderdale and Arizona International Film Festivals. A Latino, he was awarded a producing fellowship from the PGA Create Program and NALIP (National Association of Latino Independent Producers) for Desert Rats, a television pilot that he co-created and co-wrote.  He is currently in development for a feature adaptation of "Disco Beats" called Last Dance at Calle Ocho starring "Disco Beats" lead Pepe Serna, about a past-his-prime salsa dancer who gets one last chance at stardom. It is set in Miami’s Little Havana. 

About “Disco Beats”: Detroit circa 1979: An elderly man tries to convince a jaded disco dance instructor to teach him to dance so he can surprise his wife on their 60th wedding anniversary…in one week.

Watch the NFMLA interview with Ken Arquello the Director of “Disco Beats”:

“Portraits in Coal” directed by Jack Gaertner

About Jack: Jack Gaertner is a documentary filmmaker from Atlanta whose work digs into the heart of southern life — its people, places, and contradictions. Drawn to human portraits and the texture of Americana, his films center on stories of resilience and perseverance. With an eye for the overlooked, his storytelling leans into the raw, the real, and the emotionally honest. Currently working professionally as a camera operator, he has continued to hone his shooting skills and gain experience on a wide variety of sets including documentary, sports and commercial. 

About “Portraits of Coal”: Years after tragedy strikes the mining town of Whitesville, the echoes of hardship and corruption linger, challenging a resilient Appalachian community.

Watch the NFMLA interview with Jack Gaertner the director of “Portraits in Coal”:

“standby” directed by Robert Gomes

About Robert: Robert Gomes is a filmmaker and actor living in New York City. He produced the award-winning short films "Deflated," directed by D Shroff; and "Pew! Pew! Pew!" As an actor, he appeared on Broadway in The Last Night of Ballyhoo and Racing Demon. He has worked extensively off-Broadway, as well as regionally. On film, he appeared in The Way I Remember It, Body/Antibody, An Englishman in New York, and the HBO film Daddy.  His many TV appearances include Sex and the City, Ed, and Law and Order. Upcoming: With D Shroff, he is co-writing a series, Rio House, set in Austin, Texas.

About “standby”: A disheartened, but dedicated middle-age gay actor, living and working in NYC as a standby for an off-Broadway show, has his love for his art reawakened — with a jolt — in this valentine to the Theater.

Watch the NFMLA interview with Robert Gomes the director of “standby”:

“The Singers” directed by Sam Davis

About Sam: Sam Davis is an Oscar-nominated multi-hyphenate filmmaker with a foundation in cinematography. After graduating from USC's School of Cinematic Arts, he produced, shot, and edited the 2019 Academy Award-winning Netflix short "Period. End of Sentence." Since then, his films have gone on to receive honors at Sundance, Tribeca, and SXSW among others. In 2023, Sam was nominated for an Emmy for his cinematography work on the SXSW-winning New York Times Op-Doc "Long Line of Ladies," which he also produced. He later produced and shot the Disney+ short "Nǎi Nai & Wài Pó" which was nominated for an Academy Award in 2024. Sam collaborated with Sean Wang as the cinematographer on the 2024 Sundance Film Festival breakout, Dìdi, which won the Audience Award and sold to Focus Features. He is currently in production on an unprecedented longitudinal timeline feature documentary, his first as a director.

About “The Singers”: An impromptu sing-off will decide the best singer in the bar tonight.

Watch the NFMLA interview with David Breschel one of the producers of “The Singers”:

“11:11” directed by Mahnoor Euceph

About Mahnoor: Mahnoor Euceph is an award-winning Pakistani-American writer and director. She has a BA from UCLA in Design Media Arts and an MFA from USC in Film & TV Production. She was a fellow in Islamic Scholarship Fund’s Muslim Centered Writers’ Lab, with support from Extracurricular and The Black List, for her feature film Queen of Diamonds. Her internationally awarded short film "Eid Mubarak" was longlisted for the 96th Academy Awards. 

About “11:11”: When 16-year-old Pakistani-American Noori's wish at 11:11 to be her crush's type goes awry, she's magically transformed into a white, blonde, blue-eyed girl — and must undo the wish before losing herself completely. Set in affluent Palos Verdes, 11:11 is a comedic and profound exploration of the painful yet liberating realization that true belonging can't be found by becoming someone else.

Watch the NFMLA interview with Mahnoor Euceph the director of “11:11”:

“Dearborn” directed by Skylar Kim

About Skylar: Skylar is an award-winning filmmaker and producer, born in Boston, who grew up in the U.S. and South Korea. She’s studying Film and TV at NYU Tisch School of the Arts (with a minor in English and Entertainment Business). Her films have been screened at NYU student film festivals and the Museum of the Moving Image in Astoria, New York. Her screenplays were selected as finalists for the Los Angeles Asian Film Awards, Ivy Film Festival, and Flickers' Rhode Island International Film Festival in 2022. As a producer, her projects were awarded the 2021 HEAR US Award and the 2021-2022 NYU Tisch Student Producers Grant. She was recently a Research Intern for two upcoming Apple TV+ productions, Pachinko (Season 2) and The White Darkness.

About “Dearborn”: A young woman, expelled from college and forced to return home to her tight-knit Arab community, tries to restore her reputation. 

Watch the NFMLA interview with Leila Bustami the writer of “Dearborn:

“Gillyfish” directed by Sarah Sellman

About Sarah: Sarah has previously worked on shows at SyFy, Netflix and Amazon (Z-Nation, Lore). Sarah’s magically real pilot — Cottonwood — was selected as Series Fest's Writer’s Initiative’s Grand Prize Winner, presented at IFP’s Project Forum, featured in Deadline as a top un-produced. The Gillyfish feature was pitched at Galway Fleadh market 2023 and completed by Cinestory & Stowe Story Labs in 2019.

About “Gillyfish”: When Gillian takes on her partner’s identity to confront their father, she finds a connection she didn't expect in the strange exchange she has with him. A short about healing by proxy, and stepping into new identities.

Watch the NFMLA interview with Maya Korn the producer of “Gillyfish”:

Main image:

The two films address cancer in very different ways. With André Is an Idiot, which premiered at Sundance earlier this year, documentarian Tony Benna follows his friend André Ricciardi, who receives the terminal cancer diagnosis after he misses a colonoscopy that might have detected the cancer in time. It's a portrait of a man who refuses to follow any of society's rules, including about how to die.

The Marching Band, directed by Emmanuel Courcol, is about an orchestra conductor (Benjamin Lavernhe) who undergoes a DNA test in search of a bone marrow donor after he is diagnosed with leukemia. He discovers that he is adopted and has an older brother (Pierre Lottin), a a cook who plays trombone in a marching band. The film premiered at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival.

The awards capped nine days of films in beautiful for the 32nd edition of the Sedona Intenational Film Festival, one of our 50 Film Festivals Worth the Entry Fee and 25 Coolest Film Festivals.

The complete list of winners follows.

Sedona Film Festival 2026 Winners

Directors’ Choice Awards 2026

Best Feature – Drama: Mr. Burton

Best Feature – Comedy: Ethan Bloom

Best International Feature: The Marching Band

Best Humanitarian Feature: Muganga

Best Indie-Spirit Feature: The Fallow Few

Most Impactful Film: Shambhala Story

Most Inspirational Film: Mistake

Best Family Film: The Secret Floor

Best Documentary Feature: Sons of Detroit

Non-Fiction New Visions Award: Room to Move

Best Indie-Spirit Documentary: Creede U.S.A.

Best Non-Fiction Storytelling: Natchez

Most Inspirational Documentary: Dream Touch Believe

Best Documentary Short: A Sacred Pause

Best Indie-Spirit Documentary Short: Exodus

Best Humanitarian Documentary Short: Rovina’s Choice

Best Short Non-Fiction Storytelling: On Healing Lands, Birds Perch

Best Short – Comedy: "Daniel Van den Berg is Dead"

Best Short – Drama: "The Art of Inflation"

Best International Short: "The Reach"

Best Humanitarian Short: "Fundbox - A Love Story"

Best Student Short: "The Demon Core"

Best Animated Short: "WildKind"

Best Indie-Spirit Short: "Two People Exchanging Saliva"

Programmer’s Choice Best Short: Emergency

Marion Herrman Excellence in Filmmaking Award: La Orquesta

Screenplay Winners

Feature Scripts: Burgirlry by Evan Laughlin
Short Scripts: “Burning Hammer” by Dylan Wilson
TV Pilots: Sally White by Katrina Jaxson

Audience Choice Awards 2026

Best Short - Drama: "The Ride"

Best Short - Comedy: "Fitted Sheet"

Best Student Short: "The Demon Core"

Best Animated Short: "Forevergreen"

Best Documentary Short: "Icebreakers"

Best Documentary Feature: Dream Touch Believe

Best International Documentary Feature: Mr. Nobody Against Putin

Best Feature Drama: The Secret Floor

Best Feature Comedy: Switch & Bait

Best International Film: The Fallow Few

Best of Fest

Documentary: André Is an Idiot

Narrative: The Marching Band

Main image: André Ricciardi in André Is an Idiot. Sedona International Film Festival

The event at the South Arkansas Arts Center capped five days of stellar films at the festival, which highlights work from around the world but provides an especially welcome showcase for films made in Arkansas and the South. Many of the entries are born of the thriving local film scene that includes both southern Arkansas and nearby Shreveport, Louisiana. El Dorado, an oil boom town 100 years ago, now has about 20,000 residents and a film festival that outshines many in towns 10 times its size.

The festival doesn't just screen films — it gets them made. Festival executive director Alexander Jeffery and board president Tamra Corley Davis are both filmmakers themselves, and passionate boosters of fellow local filmmakers: Both frequently turn up in the credits as producers of films in the festival. And filmmakers who attend the festival one year often get inspiration or form partnerships that lead them to make new films that screen at El Dorado a year later.

The festival also has a close relationship with Shreveport's Louisiana Film Prize, and both the El Dorado Film Festival and Louisiana Film Prize are on our list of 50 Film Festivals Worth the Entry Fee.

Winners at the 2026 El Dorado Film Festival

The award for Best Cinematography, presented by Video Village's Filmbox, went to Diego Guijarro for the short "We Were." The film, directed by Jonah Haber, follows a character named David from childhood to adulthood, tracing relationships and moments across three stages of his life. The award included a license for Filmbox Pro, which normally costs $999. Other awards included a $500 cash prize.

The award for Best Arkansas Made Short went to Mark Thiedeman, whose short film "JJ" follows two young men who are forced to question their complicated relationship and feelings for each other after they appear together in an amateur video.

"It's not lost on me that I make movies that are not for everyone," Thiedeman said in his acceptance speech. "When I was in high school, I would never have imagined that I would be making sad, gay, grimy movies in Arkansas and that there would be a place here to show them."

In the Best Southern Made Film category, "The Oldest" won, and "Strand" received an Honorable Mention. "The Oldest," by Texas filmmaker Cathlin McCullough, follows a young girl who cares for both her many siblings and unpredictable father. "Strand," directed by Austin Gorski and written by and starring Gabriel Rosales, is about a man with a strange curse who draws the attention of an eerily familiar woman.

In the Best Drama Short category, "The Music Store" won and "Heavy Is the Head" received an Honorable Mention. "The Music Store" is a patient, unexpectedly funny slice-of-life short that will ring true to anyone who has run a small family business. Written and directed by Joe Gillette, who also stars, it's about two brothers who inherit a struggling music store from their father.

"Heavy Is the Head," meanwhile, is an experimental film by Chap Edmonson that follows a young Black boy coming of age in America.

The winner of the Best Comedy Short was "Endzgiving," a gleefully macabre horror comedy about a Friendsgiving unfolding during a zombie apocalypse. It's from the very prolific Tina Carbone, who used her awards speech to praise the festival.

After many presenters grumbled that they hated award shows, because it's so hard to judge art, she quipped, "I love award shows!"

"I love this festival," she added. "This is my first time submitting, my first time coming... and I had so much fun, and I've loved every single film here. You guys are all amazing, and the films have been incredible. So nice curation, and well done, everybody. This is for all of us."

The Best Documentary winner was The Big Picture, Arthur Cauty's portrait of a state-of-the-art, but quietly forgotte, cinema in British city of Bristol.

The winner for Best Narrative Feature was Honeyjoon, Lilian T. Mehrel's story of a mother and daughter who travel to the Azores islands for a grief anniversary, and find that they have different approaches to grief.

The Best of Fest winner was American Comic, a very funny mockumentary about the state of stand up comedy in which star and co-writer Joe Kwaczala plays two comedians who are comically abrasive, in very different ways. He attended the festival to detail the remarkable process of playing both characters in front of real comedy audiences.

The Pam Callaway Spirit of the Festival Award went to Cherie Bright, one of many volunteers who make the festival one of the most hospitable you'll find anywhere.

The award was presented by John Lowery, assistant executive director of the South Arkansas Art Center, the stellar gallery and performance space that hosts the El Dorado Film Festival. He noted that Callaway, who died in 2018, was a boundless supporter of the festival who "always went above and beyond in making our festival special and making our out of town guests feel welcome. ... You know, El Dorado is a small town, but we don't think we're small. We think we're big, and we do everything big."

He futher said of Callaway: "She was small, but she was vibrant. Everything that she did, she did it big .... she had a spirit to her that was just full of color."

Bright is such a festival supporter that she was recording the ceremony on her phone, for a friend, when she was surprised to be named the winner of the Spirit of the Festival Award.

Main image: Honeyjoon, which won Best Narrative Feature at the El Dorado Film Festival.

I made the film American Comic for a number of reasons, but on some level, it all goes back to this:

“HOW ARE THEY GETTING THIS SO WRONG?!”

This is me every time I’m watching a movie or TV show that incorporates stand-up as part of the story. It’s one of many things I’m yelling, really: “That doesn’t look like a comedy club!” “Audiences in a room that size wouldn’t sound like that!” “That wouldn’t get a laugh!”

I’ve been a comedian for more than 15 years, and I’ve always been fascinated by how fictional narratives can never seem to figure out how to portray stand-up on screen. I started to think about this more intensely as I prepared for production on my debut feature film American Comic.

In writing the script, I had drawn on countless experiences from my career to create a This Is Spinal Tap-like mockumentary satire of stand-up. With that being the premise, it was crucial not only to show stand-up on screen but for it to also feel authentic. If history is any judge, I was setting myself up for failure.

Joe Kwaczala on the Pressure to Get American Comic Right

So the pressure was on to figure out a way to make this work. My tactic? To reverse-engineer it. By analyzing what doesn’t work, it would hopefully become clear what to avoid, and I could forge my path to success.

I thought about my main problems with depictions of stand-up comedy and landed on three areas: the setting, the audience reactions, and the material. When one of those doesn’t come across correctly, it all goes south. So I had to nail all three.

Among comedians, there might be varying opinions on the ideal setting for a stand-up show, but most will agree that intimacy is key. That means close quarters, low ceilings, the audience’s proximity to the stage and to each other. A lot of comedy clubs are designed with these qualities in mind.

Also Read: The 25 Coolest Film Festivals in the World, Including Dances With Films

But what do film productions need? Lots of room! To fit lights, cameras, and anything else the crew requires. Naturally, if a scene takes place at a comedy club, they will want to find (or even construct!) a location that gives them the space they need to film, and as a result, you get an environment with negative intimacy. The solution to this problem was pretty obvious: We had to shoot at real venues.

But what about the crew? Some of these actual stand-up rooms wouldn’t be able to accommodate even a small film crew. So we didn’t have one. Well, kind of. I collaborated on American Comic with director Daniel J. Clark, who made one of the great fly-on-the-wall documentaries of all time, Behind the Curve. He and I decided that for these particular scenes, the crew should consist of just him and a camera, filming the action in a corner of the room.

That way, we could take advantage not only of the physical dimensions of these real spaces but also of their less tangible, lived-in qualities that would be impossible to recreate anywhere else.

Obviously we were not the first people to think, “Let’s film our stand-up scene at a stand-up venue.” But even if they’re also using a real location, a typical production is still likely to utilize fake audience reactions. And that’s the next thing about stand-up on film that just doesn’t work. Productions will bring in extras and try to conduct them like an orchestra: “Laugh hard at this part, giggle at this joke, boo at this guy.”

This process goes against human nature itself: Laughter is involuntary! So this forced nonsense is undoubtedly going to feel wrong. Daniel and I realized the only way around this was to film during real stand-up shows.

At this point, I’ll remind you that American Comic isn’t a documentary. It’s a narrative feature film with a story about fictional characters. I play the two lead roles, and they were written to be comedians with styles very different from my own. And if we wanted to avoid fake laughs, that meant these characters needed to earn real ones.

We also didn’t tell these audiences I was in character. For it to feel real on screen, we needed real reactions. So that means there were dozens of stand-up shows that happened in 2024 where audience members had no idea that one of the comedians they saw was actually me playing a movie character. Sorry!

Although in that regard, I guess the movie is kind of a documentary.

This leads us to the final piece of the “Stand-Up Authenticity Puzzle:” the material. Anyone can get on-stage at a stand-up show and bomb with a bad joke. But the comedians I’m portraying in this film are supposed to be up-and-coming with some potential for success, so I had to write jokes for them that would work in front of actual audiences.

To further complicate things, these characters are awful, uninspired hacks. So my task as a writer and performer was to come up with jokes that I personally don’t like but still could get laughs. A tricky needle to thread! So I did what any good comic does with new material: I workshopped the jokes at shows and open mics and tweaked them based on the response. In fact, these characters and their jokes started doing so well that I started to worry: “Oh no. Is this what people like?”

I’m really proud of what Danel and I accomplished with American Comic. In the end, the hunt for authenticity was simple. Instead of taking stand-up and bending it to fit our filming process, we took our filming process and bent it to fit stand-up. Obviously, I’m hoping what we do in the film will be appreciated by general audiences, but I’m hoping the extra care in our treatment of stand-up will resonate especially with comedians. The ideal reaction?

“HOW ARE THEY GETTING THIS SO RIGHT?!”

American Comic premiered at Dances With Films in Los Angeles and plays tonight at the El Dorado Film Festival.

Main image: Actor-writer Joe Kwaczala in a still from American Comic, shot and directed by Daniel J. Clark.

As a field producer on HBO’s Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, I was tasked with the improbable. Every week I’d wait for scripts to come in, often on Thursday or Friday, and would then have 48 to 72 hours to produce, shoot, and edit segments to be ready for air on Sunday. When you successfully work in that environment, it creates a false sense of security. That anything you want to make is achievable. 

So when I set out to write and direct " The Traveler," a Victorian ghost story shot in New York City with over 60 VFX shots, pyrotechnics, and a shoestring budget, I had no idea what I was in for — and how far HBO’s money had helped me make miracles.

Location is Everything (That Went Wrong)

Set in the late 1800s, The Traveler follows a widow who is haunted by a supernatural presence while grieving in her remote farmhouse. Not only did the film require period-accurate exteriors and rural backdrop, but also a living room with a functioning fireplace, an office, a kitchen, and the ability to connect all three in a "oner."

To make matters worse, we couldn’t afford to lodge the cast and crew, which meant keeping our location within a 90-minute radius of New York City.

Like all screenwriters writing creative checks your production can’t cash, I never considered finding this location would pose such a problem. Growing up in New England, I knew lots of people with old houses, so naturally, our first approach was to film at the homes of friends and family.

Immediately that became an issue. No sane person lives in an unrenovated colonial home equipped with brick ovens, untreated floorboards, and zero electrical wiring. Wall plugs can be concealed, but my aunt's tacky Moroccan backsplash is much harder for VFX to paint out (sorry, Deb).

History Nerds Are Tough Landlords

Our next brilliant idea was to film at historic houses around New York, as they’d maintain their period aesthetic with the added bonus of being fully furnished. Given our budget, we couldn’t afford to dress an entire space, so leaning on existing furnishing and props became essential.

I contacted the film commissions for Nassau County, the Hudson Valley, and New Jersey for recommendations, while scouring Google for options outside their radar. At first, it seemed promising, with several locations excited at the prospect of filming a movie… until they learned what that actually meant.

See, historic houses are run by people who love history in a deeply passionate, almost obsessive way. While scouting one property, a curator told me the house contained a 300-year-old Bible that could not be moved, touched, or even looked at. He canceled the rest of the scout right then and there.

Museums are all about preservation and control, while film sets are unpredictable. Dozens of bodies, working in small spaces, and operating heavy equipment on fast timelines can create chaos, which can be a tough gap to bridge. For five years, we struck out with every historic site between Freehold, New Jersey, and Portsmouth, New Hampshire.

The Staten Island Miracle

Out of options, and a fast approaching our shooting window, I pleaded with a location manager friend (shout out to Brad Reichel) for help. He mentioned a place he’d visited with his kids: Historic Richmond Town on Staten Island.

As luck would have it, they were looking to re-enter the film world to generate new revenue, and decided a self-funded short film was the perfect place to start.

The layout wasn’t what I’d written. The house sat just 32 feet from one of Staten Island’s busiest streets, with more than a thousand cars passing every hour. Worse, the fireplace, the heart of the story, wasn’t functional.

But we had to make it work. 

The Fire That Wasn’t There

Our production designer, Amber Unkle, loved the space. Our DP, Fletcher Wolfe, was less enthused about the stream of light from cars whipping past the windows — about 17 a minute. To solve the problem, we rented a 30-foot stage backdrop and placed it outside the house. It doubled as quick tenting for night shoots, and during day interiors, we softened and slightly overexposed the window light to disguise the abstract pattern on the fabric.

But the biggest challenge was the inoperable fireplace. Our lead character sits by the fire for most of the film — lighting it, tending it, and ultimately burning her belongings in it.

As production neared, everyone wanted to know how we’d handle it. I put on my producer hat and did what any good producer would: I lied. I said we’d build a replica fireplace later, deciding those were problems for another day.

Amber and our VFX supervisor, Chris King, scanned the fireplace and took detailed camera notes. Unfortunately, once we wrapped, we’d burned through our budget, and our SFX coordinator had moved on.

So I took it home — literally. I pitched my stepfather, a retired firefighter, on the idea of building the fireplace in his work shed. Ever the craftsman, he agreed.

Four months later, on Easter weekend, I went with Fletcher and producers Meghan-Michele German and Matt Ruscio to my mother’s house in New Hampshire, where we rebuilt the fireplace and shot all the fire inserts. Those shots cut seamlessly into The Traveler, and the producer's lie turned into truth!

The Lesson

Naivety is one of the greatest strengths we have as indie filmmakers. It shields us from doubt and gives us the courage to chase the impossible. You won’t always know how you’ll pull something off — and that’s okay.

Just stay creative, stay stubborn, and when in doubt, put your producer hat on and say: “Those are problems for another day.”

"The Traveler" plays Sunday at the El Dorado Film Festival, one of our 50 Film Festivals Worth the Entry Fee.

Main image: Actress Natalie Knepp, who plays Hannah in "The Traveler." Courtesy of the filmmakers.

The film, directed by David Anthony Ngo and Stephen McCallum, takes us back about 25 years, before marijuana was widely legalized in the United States, and casual pot users lived in fear of being pulled over and searched. One of the best cops at busting drug users and dealers was Barry Cooper, who so loved his job that he once trained his own drug-sniffing dog.

But as the film recounts, Cooper soon began to question the helpfulness — and decency — of raiding homes and breaking up families over drug possession. And so he switched sides, producing the hit Never Get Busted! DVD series, in which he shared a slew of tips for dodging arrest. (One of the weirdest: If you have marijuana in your car, keep a cat in the front seat, because it will distract and upset drug-sniffing dogs.)

For a while, Cooper is something of a man without a country. The editors of High Times are initially mistrustful, wondering if his promises to help drug users evade arrest is just a complicated sting operation. Cops, meanwhile, regard him as a traitor.

As Barry's war on the war on drugs gets more ambitious, he takes risks that make him a huge target — even as he fights to set others free.

The Supporting Cast of Never Get Busted!

The film features a colorful supporting cast that includes Travis Boles, a Star Wars fan and wedding videographer who helps launch the Never Get Busted! series.

Boles attended an El Dorado Q&A after Friday's screening of Never Get Busted! in which he swapped Star Wars stories with festival director Alexander Jeffery, wondered aloud whether a pet lizard named Jerry had inspired one of Cooper's most audacious schemes, and discussed what the film had left out.

All in all, he thought Never Get Busted! did a good job of capturing a turbulent era.

"I don't think they made a documentary that is any way unfair to him," Boles told Jeffery from the stage of the South Arkansas Arts Center, heart of the local arts scene. "I think they made something that, really, of my life experience, captures that energy."

Boles recounted to Jeffery that he ultimately went on to become an independent filmmaker thanks in part to his experiences making DVDs with Cooper. But ultimately he walked away from making the DVDs for several reasons, including the attention the series was getting from law enforcement officials who didn't appreciate them that way Cooper's fans did.

Never Get Busted! Skips a Few Years in the Life of Barry Cooper

As Boles noted, Never Get Busted! skips a few years and major events in order to get to where Barry is now, and to cover the most interesting parts of his saga within an agreeable feature-length runtime.

The film offers an exhilarating, fascinating look at how a keen legal mind can stand up to overzealous prosecutions. It is also an often infuriating watch, as you see how easily good people can be caught up in the courts.

What resonates, after the film ends, is the spirit of Barry Cooper, who could have profited from a broken system, and chose instead to fight it.

Never Get Busted premiered at Sundance in 2025, and is now making the festival rounds. You can read more of our El Dorado Film Festival coverage here.

Thiedeman was one of six Arkansas filmmakers who spoke at the El Dorado Film Festival Thursday after the fest showed a strong collection of locally made short films. Though all reflected meticulous planning, the filmmakers also allowed themselves to be surprised, whether by a face, a sky, or a location.

When festival executive director Alexander Jeffery asked them about the happy accidents they enjoyed on set, everyone had a good story.

Thiedeman's film "JJ" was a standout: It tells the story of two young men who live together and share a bed, but think of themselves as heterosexual. When they make an amateur video for cash, questions and feelings they've tried to ignore are forced into the light. (They're played by Oscar Winter and Eric Schanker, both of whom are excellent.)

Besides faces, Thiedeman tries to create compelling living spaces for his characters. The young men's shared apartment ended up providing one of his film's happy accidents.

At one point, one of the characters takes a shower. The camera was going to quickly show his back, but when cinematographer Chris Churchill decided to shine a light through a particular window, the look of the scene changed, and Thiedeman realized the shot needed to be longer.

Between the light and the steam of the shower, it's one of the most mesmerizing images in the film.

Director Emily Railsback enjoyed another kind of cinematic discovery while shooting "The Game Camera," a story of newly widowed woman who feels her late husband's presence on their farm. It was co-written by star Kristen Bush, who is fascinating as a stoic woman not sure what to believe. Red Rocket star Bree Elrod plays a key role.

The film was shot in Kansas, but Railsback is based in Arkansas, where she teaches film at the University of Central Arkansas. While on set, a Kansas-born actor who is now based in New York observed, "I just miss Kansas. There's nowhere else that you can get this 360-degree view of the sky."

"That just stuck with me," Railsback noted.

So on the morning of the last day of shooting, she asked cinematographer Gabriel Dib if he could rig a shot that would capture the wide-open Kansas sky. He came up with something that involved laying in the grass in a field, pulling a rope, and moving in a circle.

"I love that shot," observed Eric White, standing beside Railsback on the festival stage. He and Terrell Case are the co-writers and co-directors of the dark comedy short "No Money Down," which has a big reveal involving — spoiler alert — twins.

At one point, the presence of a twin was obvious early in the film. But watching their footage in post, White and Case realized the film worked better if the twin was revealed later. So they layered over an early shot that revealed the twin's presence, to give more impact to his appearance later.

Marc Crandall, one of the producers of "Bruisers," said location was central to his film's happy accident. "Bruisers" takes place on a scenic cliffside where two men discuss their dislike of assassin movies. The film was designed to be a straightforward one-day shoot, but location was a slight challenge.

"Part of the problem was finding a place we could shoot in Arkansas, because there's a lot of beautiful overlooks in Arkansas, but very few that aren't three and a half miles from where you can park," Crandall joked.

Director Ashley Hayes ended up shooting at the White Rock recreation area, where the presence of a campground had a surprise benefit. At one point, the production needed some chalk dust to make a hand slapping a rock more impactful.

No one on the set had any chalk, so makeup department head Cassie Self went from campsite to campsite, looking for a family with a baby, knowing they would have diaper powder.

"It made the whole scene," said Crandall. "So thank goodness there's campers there."

The happiest accident of all may have been for "The Hollow," from writer, director, executive producer and star Raeden Greer. She plays a woman who, while traveling, meets a man (Quinn Gasaway), who initially seems friendly and harmless. But things take a bad turn.

Greer always had one particular hotel in mind for a key sequence in the film, but when she went to shoot in Hot Springs, she learned that it had permanently closed.

Luckily, her producer, Mike Poe, knew the owner of a Hot Springs hotel called The Happy Hollow.

"it was even more perfect than I could have imagined, and also gave me a play on words," Greer said.

She ended up naming the film after the hotel.

Main image: Raeden Greer and Quinn Gasaway in "The Hollow," one of the Arkansas Made films at the El Dorado Film Festival.

to want to put a camera in a certain place that observes them feeling something in an environment like also, like an emotional environment, like our house has to be as emotional as they are. And then the rest is playing, you know, I write shot lists in advance, and then I throw them away. We go inside, we find better stuff. I don't really reverse the script. I just sort of meet with actors and talk for three hours about who these people are. I spent a long, long student call with the actors asking them, lik

Marc Crandall, one of the producers of Bruisers

Emily Railsback, director of Game Camera

The Hollow writer-director-star Raeden Greer
JJ writer-director Mark Thiedeman

Strapped for cash in a declining industrial town, two young men perform in an amateur adult video, bringing up repressed feelings that could jeopardize their lifelong friendship.

Terrell Case, Eric White co-writers and co-directors of No Money Down Eric White stars

Plenty of film festivals play solid, award-season films. But El Dorado further stands out by taking an active role in getting movies made, and that was never more clear than in Wednesday night's sneak screenings.

Last year, Picture Pool Productions' Nicholas Logan, Bridget Regan and Brittany Fallow hosted a detailed panel on creating independent TV shows, with an eye toward selling them to networks or streamers once they're complete, instead of going through a traditional development process that often requires overcoming lottery odds. During that panel, they described their plans for Savage, a small-town thriller rooted in delirious, swampy atmospherics.

On Wednesday night, they delivered. Savage, starring Regan as an alcoholic private investigator summoned to a mysterious town of 10 residents to see what happened to the missing eleventh, has a beguiling Twin Peaks kind of atmosphere, though it is set near that show's geographic opposite, in one of the most isolated parts of Florida.

Among those inspired by last year's Picture Pool panel was prolific filmmaker Alexander Jeffery, executive director of the El Dorado Film Festival. He and his Bespoke Works LLC partner, Paul Petersen, realized that a TV series might be the ideal format for a novel they were working to adapt, Fixation. It was written by local oral and maxillofacial surgeon Dr. Steven Smart.

Fixation's pilot is a twisty, character-first narrative with sophisticated structure and a magnificent last-minute rug pull. The craftsmanship is so high that cinematographer Joel Froome meticulously copied early '90s lighting to make sure the film feels set in that time period.

Jefffery said Wednesday that he and Peterson initially believed Smart's novel should be a TV show, but decided to write is as a feature film since they had never made a show before. But, Jeffery added: "It just never quite felt as right as it did when it was in the TV format. So it was really seeing what Nick and Brittany and Bridget did with Savage.... that got this going."

Jeffery and Peterson assembled a team that includes Picture Pool's Logan and Regan, as well as El Dorado Film Festival film committee chair Tamra Corley Davis. She is one of the executive producers of Fixation, and pops up in the film as a juror.

Jeffery even got El Dorado native William Ragsdale — who came to the festival last year to celebrate the 40th anniversary of his horror classic Fright Night — to play a key role in Fixation.

And so, a year after Picture Pool's 2025 El Dorado Film Festival presentation, both Savage and Fixation shared a stage for Wednesday night's sneak screenings. The audience at the inviting, state-of-the-art South Arkansas Art Center — the anchor of a passionate local arts and music scene — included many of Dr. Smart's former patients. A few were familiar with the semi-autobiographical Fixation, which is about a young Korean-American woman who suddenly dies after a dramatic cosmetic surgery.

Smart brought to the stage the courtly authority one longs for in a medical professional, and assured the audience that while some elements of Fixation were based in fact, one was not: Unlike the lead in Fixation (played by Brett Dalton), he never lost a patient during his residency.

His verdict on the adaptation of his novel?

"Alex and Paul have just done marvelous job with this," he said. "I hope they make you want to see the next episode."

Prolific DIY Storytelling, From Outside Hollywood

Wednesday's screenings of Savage and Fixation were a testament to the power of DIY storytelling, born from longtime partnerships and friendships, far from the often slow and gridlocked decision-making of Hollywood. El Dorado is located about halfway between Little Rock and Shreveport, Louisiana, home of the Louisiana Film Prize, with which El Dorado often collaborates.

The El Dorado-Shreveport film corridor produces film after film thanks to an all-hands approach to projects in which a director on one movie might P.A. on another to thank the director of the first film for editing another project altogether. Everyone is well past the point of keeping track of who owes who for what. Everyone just works together to raise all boats.

Filmmakers like Jeffery, Clayton Henderson and Chris Alan Evans pop up frequently in the credits of both El Dorado Film Festival and Louisiana Film Prize films, and their films then go on to play far and wide. For example, Evans — who plays a lawyer in Fixation — has had a terrific run with his recent short film "toots," which played top-tier festivals like Indy Shorts. He also co-wrote and starred in the outrageous stalker musical "Peeping Todd," which was so successful as a short that it was made into a feature. It is directed by Evans' co-writer, Josh Munds, and plays El Dorado on Saturday.

Henderson, a young, prolific filmmaker with close ties to the El Dorado and Shreveport scenes, enjoyed an admirable festival run for this recent short "Fast" that included the prestigious New Orleans Film Festival and Waco Independent Film Festival. Both, like El Dorado and the Louisiana Film Prize, are on our list of 50 Film Festivals Worth the Entry Fee.

While big studios try to work out industrywide solutions to problems like distribution and AI, smaller creative teams like Picture Pool and Bespoke Films are just making things, confident that they'll find an audience. It's easy to see how both Savages and Fixation could make for addictive prestige television, if given a chance.

Main image: Brett Dalton in Fixation, courtesy of Bespoke Films.

Kim Novak's Vertigo features Novak, who turned 93 the day before Valentine's Day, sharing her recollections of making Vertigo with Hitchcock and Jimmy Stewart. The filming is bluntly honest about her joys and frustrations, as well as all she's survived: The first moments contain her discussing how her mother attempted to abort her, then smother her after she was born.

In a Q&A after the film Sunday, Phllippe — who makes films about films — explained that he is currently working on another documentary that will focus on a crucial scene near the end of Vertigo. Phillippe previously investigated a few moments of a Hitchcock classic in his 2017 documentary 78/52, which focused on the shower scene in Hitchcock's 1960 Psycho.

Philippe said he had recently visited Novak at her Californian home to share with her some new information that he had uncovered about the Vertigo scene at the center of his new doc.

"I'm working on this other film about Vertigo, which is a very intense film I'm working on. It's about one shot at the end... and I've made some discoveries that I think — she was really kind of, you know, her mind was kind of blown. And she kept telling me, 'Oh my gosh. If only we could talk to Hitchcock.' We had all these questions to ask him. And then she said, 'Why don't we do a seance? And see if we can talk to him?''"

"Perfect Sedona topic," moderator Shaeri Richards quipped, referring to the Arizona red rock region's history of spiritualism and healing.

Philippe continued: "So we did."

Alexandre Philippe on His and Kim Novak's Attempt to Ask Alfred Hitchcock About Vertigo

Phillipe said the seance took place 10 days before Sunday's Sedona International Film Festival Q&A — which would put the date at February 12, the day before Novak's birthday.

"Did you hire a medium?" Richards asked.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah," Philippe said. "I interviewed several, and there was one that was perfect. And I'm not gonna spoil it, but I kind of, I mean, I'm very agnostic about the whole thing — but I kind of think he showed up. Yeah, I mean, he definitely had a cameo, I think. It was wild. It was absolutely wild."

Background on Vertigo and Kim Novak's Vertigo

Vertigo has long been in the conversation about the all-time greatest films. In 2012, the Sight and Sound critics poll named it the greatest film of all time, displacing Citizen Kane, which had held the top spot since the poll originated in 1952. In 2022, in a shocking upset, the Hitchcock film was replaced at the top of the list by Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles, or Jeanne Dielman, as it is more commonly known. The 1965 film was directed by Chantal Akerman when she was just 25.

Vertigo is the complex, captivating thriller based on the 1954 novel D'entre les morts (From Among the Dead) by Boileau-Narcejac, and was written by Alec Coppel and Samuel A. Taylor. It follows former San Francisco detective John "Scottie" Ferguson (James Stewart), who becomes infatuated with the mysterious Madeleine (Kim Novak), a woman he is enlisted to surveil. They seem to fall in love — but then she dies in a sudden mysterious fall.

Soon after, Ferguson meets Judy — who bears a striking resemblance to Madeline, given that both are played by Novak. We won't spoil the rest in case you haven't seen it.

Kim Novak's Vertigo follows several past Philippe documentaries about Hollywood history, including Lynch/Oz, You Can Call Me Bill and Chain Reactions. It is currently enjoying a very successful festival run — Sunday's packed Sedona International Film Festival screening earned a very warm reception — and Philippe said Sunday that it should make its way to general audiences soon.

Novak, meanwhile, is doing very well. She chose to leave the industry in 1966, occasionally reappearing on screen, and finally quit for good in 1991. She was married to Robert Malloy from 1976 until his death in 2020.

"She's very, very happy," Philippe shared. "She's got her dogs, she has a caretaker who takes care of the grounds, and will show up every now and then. She has a lady who comes, I think, twice a week, just to help her out a little bit. She has her little gym, she exercises, she rides her horse. And she still hops in her electric car and goes to town pick up some groceries. She goes to Trader Joe's."

Main image: Kim Novak and Alfred Hitchock on the set of Vertigo. Paramount.

Editor's Note: Updates details throughout, including credits.

The film plays this week at the Sedona International Film Festival, where your likely to see well-heeled retirees cruising beneath towering red rocks in classic cars. And Sedona's a beautiful one-hour drive from Flagstaff and Historic Route 66. All of which makes it an ideal place to see "The Ride."

The film — which screens Friday and Saturday, paired with the feature film Memo — follows the Plymouth through years and decades. It stars out as a teenage girl's first car, a sweet gift from her parents, but then descends Boogie Nights-style into calamity. The car never gets to drive itself, and has to just hang on and watch as its drivers crash through drugs, desperation and violence. Even as he feels himself nearing death, the car waxes poetic in Perlman's smooth, unrushable baritone.

The film is enjoying a strong festival run, dazzling audiences with its unconventional narrative and occasional — occasional! — use of AI. We talked with Slava Denislov about embracing the past, being present, and what he thinks is the future of filmmaking.

Slava Denislov on Making 'The Ride,' Hybrid AI, and Casting Ron Perlman

MovieMaker: Where did the idea for "The Ride" originate?

Slava Denisov: Like many unconventional projects, "The Ride" was born out of necessity. I wanted to make something original on a limited budget, and that forced me to think deeply about the medium itself. As an editor, I’ve always been fascinated by the power of the jump cut. With a single cut, you can leap seconds or decades in time. It all depends on framing. I realized that if we confined ourselves to one environment, and treated it as a storytelling engine, we could convey the passage of time through performance, costume, and production design alone.

Emotionally, I’ve always been intrigued by the relationship between people and objects, especially cars. We treat them like companions. They witness our lives, our freedom, our mistakes, our growth.

The spark came from a real story involving our cinematographer, Andrey Valentsov. He owned a beautiful yellow Mustang convertible that became almost communal among his friends. It went to Burning Man multiple times and carried countless stories. When he left the country for what was supposed to be a few months, he ended up gone for years. The friend who was watching the car let the registration lapse, got into an accident, and eventually abandoned it somewhere. The car disappeared.

One night we found ourselves imagining what that car must have seen, sitting alone on the side of the road, and what might have happened to it afterward. That conversation became the seed of the film.

MovieMaker: How did you recruit the awesome Ron Perlman as the voice of the car?

Slava Denisov: It was a mix of persistence and luck. We had already shot and edited the film and just needed the voiceover. I sent a cold email to Ron’s agent with a screener. They watched it, shared it with Ron, and he responded to it. He liked the concept enough to come on board. 

We met in a recording studio in Los Angeles, and he was incredible to work with! I don’t think we would have broken through with just a script. Having a finished film to show made all the difference. It’s a reminder that sometimes the best way to convince someone is simply to make the thing and let it speak for itself.

MovieMaker: You take this car through several decades convincingly. How did you achieve that, in terms of cinematography and color especially?

Slava Denisov: Period films are notoriously expensive because of the production design demands. But since our camera never leaves the interior of the car, we only had to control a very small environment. That constraint became our advantage.

The car itself already feels like a time machine. Costumes, props, and subtle production design changes inside the vehicle did most of the heavy lifting. What really unified the look was a vintage Soviet anamorphic lens from the 1970s that Andrey found. It gave us an organic texture and optical imperfections that immediately grounded the film in a specific era. Combined with careful color grading, it created a believable sense of time passing without ever leaving the back seat.

MovieMaker: Did you use any AI?

Slava Denisov: We made a deliberate effort to shoot as much as possible practically. However, some locations were simply out of reach. The drive-in theater scene, for example, would have been prohibitively expensive.

So we shot certain scenes on green screen and then used AI tools to generate backgrounds to replace those environments. It was a targeted, practical use of AI as a VFX tool rather than a creative shortcut. I see the future of filmmaking in that hybrid approach. Live action performances combined with intelligent digital tools can allow independent filmmakers to achieve things that were once financially impossible.

I’m currently experimenting with a “director’s cut” version of the film, where I’m using AI to refine and polish some of the original VFX work.

MovieMaker: Can you talk about how you became a filmmaker? 

Slava Denisov: I started making amateur short films with friends in Russia around 2008. At first it was just fun. We were telling silly stories and editing them together. But very quickly I started taking it seriously. I applied to the St. Petersburg University of Film & Television to study directing.

A few years later, I got incredible lucky and won a green card in the lottery. It felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I grew up on American cinema, and I always felt connected to that sense of Americana. So I took a chance and moved across the ocean to Los Angeles without knowing a single soul here.

I worked any job I could find on set: PA, grip, AC, DIT, while driving Uber and working construction to survive. But I always felt that I was good at editing and over time, it became my professional focus. I worked on indie and studio projects, which was an incredible education. But eventually I realized I was drifting away from my dream of directing my own stuff. So I invested all my savings into "The Ride." That project brought me back to why I started in the first place. Now we’re developing it into a feature, which has always been the goal.

MovieMaker: Moving to the U.S. from Russia, how was it focusing on something as American as the car?

Slava Denisov: I’ve always loved classic American cars and the cultural mythology around them. The 1970s American aesthetic shaped so many of the films and music albums I grew up with. I knew from the beginning the car had to be from that era.

I couldn’t have done what we needed with a rented vintage car, so buying it was the only option. And I found that 1976 Plymouth Volare on Facebook Marketplace for very cheap. I was planning to sell it after the shoot to recoup some of the costs, but I felt we went through so much together that I owed it some love. I’m now restoring it in my spare time. 

In many ways, America is a nation defined by the automobile. Nearly everyone has a first-car story. After screenings, people often approach me and say, “I never thought I’d cry over a car,” or they start sharing memories about their own first ride. That reaction tells me we touched something universal. The film may be about a specific car, but emotionally it’s about all of us.

You can read more of our Sedona International Film Festival coverage here.

Main image: Isabel Powell and Tori Zaitonia in "The Ride," directed by Slava Denisov. Courtesy of the film.

Some of the films were about how young women should behave. But Krawitz noticed that even films about seemingly gender-neutral topics — electricity, for example — somehow managed to be strikingly sexist.

Watching them with seven decades of hindsight, Krawitz was struck by how much they espoused the values of the modern conservative "tradwife" movement, which encourages a return to a 1950s idealization of domestic life.

"Nice Girls Don't Ask" is one of the highlights of the Sedona International Film Festival, where the film plays Thursday and Saturday, paired with the documentary feature Mozart's Sister.

Krawitz is an acclaimed, prolific filmmaker and professor emerita for Stanford University's Department of Art & Art History. In a way, "Nice Girls Don't Ask" owes its existence to two of her previous films: 1990's "Mirror Mirror," which examines the relationship between a woman's body image and the quest for an idealized female form, and 1996's "In Harm's Way," which explores assumptions about fear, safety, and control instilled in the children of the late 1950s.

Both borrowed from the 1950s instructional movies, which can be unintentionally funny in their dated ideas — but also dense, misguided, and cruel. There's no telling how many harmful or just weird ideas they caused some children of the 1950s to internalize.

We asked Krawitz about accessing a "treasure trove" of these films, giving 1950s filmmakers too much credit, and whether tradwife culture feels like a real thing.

Jan Krawitz on 'Nice Girls Don't Ask' and the Tradwife Movement

MovieMaker: How did you come upon all of these instructional films and realize they could be the basis of your short film?

Jan Krawitz: The initial concept was to work only with toy ads that came into my possession in the 1990s when I was making my short film, "In Harm’s Way." I planned to subvert the strict gender messaging embedded in both the toys and the ads. However, it quickly became clear that this idea was a bit too one-dimensional. The vestige of that concept remains as a prologue in "Nice Girls Don’t Ask."

I was familiar with the instructional films used in "Nice Girls Don’t Ask" as I had used a bit of this material in "Mirror Mirror" and "In Harm's Way." In the years since, a treasure trove of these films have been uploaded by Prelinger Films and were available online. My research started there — viewing and transcribing over 100 of these films while my ideas for the film percolated.

MovieMaker: Who commissioned these films? They’re like propaganda in many ways.

Jan Krawitz: Several production companies had the idea to produce and market “social guidance” films in the post-WWII years. The baby boom was taking off and legions of veterans were starting families. Rather than being commissioned, the genre emerged as a marketing opportunity by Coronet Films and other companies. 

The social guidance films initially focused on dating behavior, etiquette, career possibilities, and other tips for helping teenagers become well-adjusted adults in a stable society. The films eventually expanded to the topics of marriage and children. The films were specifically targeted for the 1950s American white, middle-class, as evidenced by the population represented in the films. They were shown in schools, churches, and community groups.

The biggest discovery in my archival research was the insidious gender-messaging that was present even in films that had a completely different goal. For example, in films about safety in the home or “the flow of electricity,” girls were relegated to the role of observer, while their brothers worked with dad to figure things out. Wives in some of the later films demonstrate this same helpless behavior. Young girls watching these films in their 1950s classroom would understandably absorb this subtle messaging.

MovieMaker: Some of these films clearly want girls and women to just be silent servants, but others have brief moments of surprising honesty and empathy, especially for married women who’ve had to give up their own dreams for husbands who may have less professional promise than they do. Did it seem like the filmmakers were trying to sneak some reality into these instructional films?

Jan Krawitz: I’m guessing your perspective may give a bit more credit to the instructional filmmakers than is warranted. In the scene where the married woman (a math major in college who gave up her job after marriage in deference to the prevailing norms) finds a way to exercise her brain, it is only in service to her husband within the confines of the marriage.

Occasionally, the films will offer a palliative like that, but I there is also the scene in which the husband rails against his working wife, claiming that her job is more important to her than the marriage. This excerpt (highly edited, of course) is from a film about marriage happiness, suggesting that the marriage would be harmonious if the wife stopped working. 

MovieMaker: It’s very darkly funny that you slide in the modern-day male “traditional marriage” proponent near the end without comment — he sounds like someone for whom nothing has changed, and it really is hard to see any difference between what he says and what these instructional films said decades ago. Why did you opt not to identify him? 

Jan Krawitz: I felt it was necessary to include a contemporary scene that suggests, “plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.” (The more things change, the more they stay the same). The male speaker at the podium is representative of a resurgent mindset that regards feminism as a historical mistake.

He is the graduation speaker at a Catholic college and his words were met with sustained applause in 2024, suggesting that there is still a receptive audience for what I perceive to be regressive ideas. The auditorium that is intercut with his speech is populated by 1950s girls— to make the point that you articulated in your question.

Had I identified him, it may have allowed the audience to more readily dismiss his words as belonging only to him — rather than to a burgeoning movement that valorizes traditional roles for both men and women.

MovieMaker: Do you think the “traditional marriage” some modern-day conservatives embrace ever really existed? Or was it created for TV and films like these? And do you think there’s really been an uptick in “trad wives,” or are they just performing for engagement?

Jan Krawitz: I do believe the “traditional marriage” existed in the post-war years, both in actuality and as exemplified in media (Leave it to Beaver, The Donna Reed Show, et cetera.) My mother was a '50s mom — a math major in college who quit her job after marrying in 1948. I came of age on the cusp of feminism and therefore, through fortunate timing, was able to pursue a career as a filmmaker.

Although there are now many more opportunities available to women than in the 50s, recent times have seen a resurgence in traditional roles for women — Project 2025; the Natalist movement which promotes bigger families; the online female influencers who promote marriage, children, and often home-schooling; and the proliferation of “tradwives” on TikTok who tout the virtues of cooking and cleaning at home as a full-time occupation.

I never thought to ask my mother before she died if she was frustrated by the societal norms that relegated her to the role of wife and mother — recognizing, of course, that our family could get by with one income.

Main image: One of the 1950s instructional videos featured in "Nice Girls Don't Ask," by director Jan Krawitz

You can read more of our Sedona International Film Festival coverage here.

Arquelio, a Palm Spring-based actor, director and producer, had seen Serna on the local news promoting his new book and documentary Life Is Art. He realized Serna lived nearby, and reached out to pitch "Disco Beats," which is about an 85-year-old man in the Detroit of 1979, who is desperate to learn to disco before his upcoming wedding anniversary.

"I've always been skeptical about cold-calling people, but in this case I simply sent him an email along with my script and fortunately he called me within 30 minutes," Aquelio tells MovieMaker. "He immediately responded to the script's message and his character, and I was flattered he did so quickly."

Serna agreed to play Lou, the octogenarian trying to learn disco on a deadline. Arquelio plays Benny, his very reluctant dance instructor.

But soon Serna learned that he, like his character, faced a massive challenge.

"He found he had cancer two weeks before we began filming," Arquelio explains. "I gave Pepe every opportunity to back out of the film, but he was insistent as he wanted to be an example to anyone battling cancer. He had his first treatment two days before filming and he rallied for our production — and as you see in the final result, he was magnificent. "

It's true — Serna and Arquelio are both grounded, empathetic and charming as an unlikely duo whose hopes rely on a musical genre that was sadly, in 1979, on its way out.

"Disco Beats" is enjoying a very successful festival run that included a screening Sunday at the Sedona International Film Festival, one of our 50 Film Festivals Worth the Entry Fee and 25 Coolest Film Festivals in the World. It plays again Tuesday as part of the Shorts Program 2.

Serna, meanwhile, is going strong: "He posts on Instagram while getting treatments, as he wants to inspire others," Arquelio notes." He is doing well and appears to have turned a corner medically, so we are all hopeful for the future. "

We asked Arquelio about his inspiration for "Disco Beats," desert cities, and making a film that also works as a disco time machine.

Ken Arquelio on His Directorial Debut, 'Disco Beats'

MovieMaker: There’s such a beautiful piece of wisdom in this film — “Whenever you can do something you can teach somebody else, that’s a gift.” What’s the origin of that line? 

Ken Arquelio: This was a very organic line from Pepe's character, Lou. Benny is jaded and doesn't appreciate his job anymore — especially with a challenging student. And because of what develops throughout the film and his conversations with Lou, Benny eventually opens his eyes to what he has in his life — what's really important — as per Lou's example. It's my favorite line in the film,  and am so honored that it touched you, too. 

MovieMaker: What was it like working with the great Pepe Serna?

Ken Arquelio: As you'll agree, he is the life blood of our film and I couldn't imagine anyone else playing the part. The role of Lou captures Pepe's true essence of the type of man he is, and he was a complete professional and very prepared during the filming. And everyone on the crew and cast instantly fell in love with him.  

MovieMaker: What was the origin of the idea for "Disco Beats"?

Ken Arquelio: Both my Uncle Lou and Aunt Gloria have passed. He was a very adventerous man and thoroughly enjoyed life up until the very end. And my Aunt Gloria introduced me to Motown and disco music when I was a boy. This was a story born of the lasting influence each had on my life. 

MovieMaker: One thing I find really cool about this film playing at Sedona is that there are a lot of retirees in the audience - they might be closer to the age of Pepe Serna’s character now, but in the ‘70s, they were closer in age to the younger characters, including your character, Benny. It’s a very cool bit of cinematic time travel.

Ken Arquelio: Yes, we play very well to older audiences. We've been in five festivals in Florida, and three in Arizona as well as other cities, but the seniors definitely respond the most postively. 

MovieMaker: How did you learn to disco dance? What meaning does disco hold for you?

Ken Arquelio: I'm Latino and am fortunate to have some born rhythm and have always loved to dance. We had a dance choreographer, Tasia Mantzoros, who choreographed all the dance sequences and I couldn't be more pleased with her contribution. Also, I grew up during the disco era and my Aunt Gloria was a big Donna Summer fan, thus the disco music background. 

MovieMaker: How is it being a filmmaker in Palm Springs?

Ken Arquelio: We actually filmed in Los Angeles — not Palm Springs. It's a beautiful place, but unfortunately the infrastructure can be challenging.  Aside from myself, Pepe, and our producer, Stepanie Bell — who also lives in the Palm Springs area — we assembled our entire cast and crew from Los Angeles. 

MovieMaker: Do you feel any special affinity for other desert towns like Sedona? Of course they’re very different.

Ken Arquelio: We love the desert. My wife and I lived in Arizona for many years, we've been in Santa Fe and Prescott and Tucson, and our audiences there seem to be more in tuned to our story.  

MovieMaker: How did you become a filmmaker? 

Ken Arquelio: I've been an actor for over 20 years. After my Uncle Lou passed, he inspired me to challenge life and make the most of it. And I tired at putting my career in other people's hands. I naturally began to create stories that inspired me and I thought what better way to make my directing debut than with "Disco Beats." We've been accepted to 19 film festivals including Santa Fe, Catalina, Newport Beach, Sarasota and won Best U.S. Short at the Fort Lauderdale Film Festival, Best Narrative Short at the Arizona International Film Festival, and Emerging Filmmaker Award at the Prescott Film Festival.

I couldn't be more pleased with the outcome considering this was my first directing gig, and am now developing "Disco Beats" into a feature film based in Littla Havana in Miami, with salsa music as the backdrop. Pepe, of course, is attached. 

You can read more of our Sedona International Film Festival coverage here.

Main image: Pepe Serna as Lou and Ken Arquelio as Benny in "Disco Beats." Vincero Pictures

Sarıbacak had a hard time adjusting to his new life, but Yakup has an even harder one: He has left his wife and daughter behind, and works tough under-the-table jobs, far removed from his old career as a music teacher. Sarıbacak and Gazelle co-writer Ayhan Hulagu, who also emigrated from Türkiye to the U.S. and also acts in the film, drew on their own challenges and the even more intense struggles of fellow Turkish-American immigrants.

Gazelle is one of the highlights of the stellar Sedona International Film Festival, which begins this weekend. Though it unsentimentally tracks every aspect of Yakup's life — his claustrophobic sleeping arrangements, hidden cash, and frantic phone calls home — it also tells a universal immigrant story with no sugar coating. It settles into the grit of its northern New Jersey and New York City setting, and a world that feels at once too small and too big.

The film, co-directed by Samy Pioneer, is too respectful of the audience to spell things out. But its relevance is obvious in the modern United States, even if you aren't familiar with Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan's crackdown on his critics.

Gazelle has earned many accolades on its festival run, including an Audience Award at the Vancouver International Film Festival, which, like Sedona, is one of our 50 Film Festivals Worth the Entry Fee. Ahead of the film's Sedona screenings, we asked Sarıbacak and Hulagu about the experiences that informed Gazelle, valuing truth over fantasy, and the allegory that gives the film its title.

Nadir Sarıbacak and Ayhan Hulagu on Making Gazelle

MovieMaker: I love how you use the allegory of the gazelle to suggest hope even when all seems lost. How did you come upon that symbol? 

Nadir Sarıbacak: The first few years after I came to the United States were very difficult for me, as they are for many people. During that anxious and depressive period, I came across this story. Interestingly, this seemingly simple story helped heal me, at least a little. As a human being, there comes a point when you feel you can’t carry certain things anymore, and the burdens I had taken on felt too heavy. I kept this meaningful story in the back of my mind and told myself that if I ever made a film, I would build it around this story. When the time was right, I shared it with Ayhan. 

Ayhan Hulagu: This gazelle story was a small social media post. In that video, an African-American imam was telling the story of a pregnant gazelle trapped in the forest, feeling helpless and cornered. My own father is also an imam, and when we were children, he used to tell us moral stories. This story spoke not only to my childhood but also to my present situation.

At the time, I was working in different jobs outside my profession and felt emotionally stuck and helpless. The way the gazelle ignored everything around her and focused only on giving birth felt deeply meaningful and poetic to me. Once she focused on that, things slowly began to fall into place. I tried to carry that lesson into my own life. Just as the gazelle’s story inspired us, it eventually formed the backbone of Gazelle. 

MovieMaker: This film is sad almost from beginning to end, though there are glimmers of hope. Were you ever tempted to make the story happier for the sake of pleasing audiences, even if it may have made the story less true? 

Ayhan Hulagu: When we were writing the film, our motivation was never to make an “immigrant film” or a “social issue film.” What excited us was writing a psychological drama centered on a human being—something people from different parts of the world could watch and see a part of themselves in. When the Canadian audience in Vancouver gave the film an award, that meant a lot to me in that sense.

Since the camera moves closely with Yakup, we do tire the audience by placing them inside that atmosphere — I accept that. I personally enjoy films that make me actively follow the story rather than passively watch it, and perhaps that’s how we built the world of this film. Could there have been more hope? Of course. That would have made me happy too. 

MovieMaker: Both of you, like your protagonist, moved from Türkiye to the United States, though of course I have no idea if you were forced to flee because of political repression or were separated from your families. How autobiographical is this? How much did you draw from people you know? I have read that Nadir was censored for expressing concern about Türkiye. 

Nadir Sarıbacak: Ten years ago, I came to the United States for a vacation with my children, but because of the political chaos in Türkiye, I was unable to return and had to urgently decide to build a life here. Thankfully, unlike Yakup, I did not leave my family behind. 

However, as an immigrant, I experienced serious psychological challenges and traumas of my own. Some friends around me, unfortunately, went through very painful situations and deep anxieties regarding their families. Compared to what they were going through, I often felt it would be disrespectful to voice my own complaints. When Ayhan and I began writing the screenplay, we built it mainly on their stories, blending them with our own struggles to create this film. 

Ayhan Hulagu: I came to the United States in 2017, and after receiving an artist visa, I decided to stay permanently. I founded a theater company and began performing solo plays. I’ve taught as a guest lecturer at universities such as Princeton, Cornell, Stanford, and Harvard. That process made my own mental transition as an immigrant much easier.

I didn’t live through what Yakup experienced, but I witnessed many similar stories in my social circle. The stories I heard affected me deeply. I knew how difficult it was to adapt as an immigrant, but when family becomes part of the equation, the process becomes far more complicated.

The interviews we conducted, our observations, and the emotional experiences shared by people around us gave us a great deal of insight into understanding Yakup. We gathered pieces from real life and assembled them like a puzzle to create the full picture. 

MovieMaker: Ayhan, you were a puppeteer — how does that affect your writing? 

Ayhan Hulagu: I see what we do as storytelling. Sometimes in the theater it’s just a handkerchief or a stick; sometimes in film it’s characters and an atmosphere we imagine. The form changes, but the essence remains the same. The relationship a puppeteer builds with a puppet doesn’t feel very different to me from the relationship an actor builds with a character. I’m moved by stories that activate the audience’s imagination, and I like creating work with that same sense of honesty. 

MovieMaker: Do you see similarities between the current situation in Türkiye and the U.S.?

Nadir Sarıbacak: Sometimes, when I follow daily political developments in America, I do feel concerned. On the other hand, the United States has a deeply rooted Constitution. I believe it protects individual rights and freedoms and will not be easily changed — and I hope and pray that remains true. 

Ayhan Hulagu: At times, when I watch the news, I feel a sense of déjà vu. I sincerely hope that everything evolves in a positive direction. 

MovieMaker: Finally, what are you looking forward to about playing Sedona? 

Nadir Sarıbacak: First of all, it will be my first time in Sedona, which is exciting in itself. Also, in Sedona, Gazelle will be watched mostly by American audiences rather than Turkish viewers. That excites me because I’m very curious about their emotional response. I truly wonder what kind of connection they will form with the film. 

Ayhan Hulagu: Unfortunately, because of my theater performances, I won’t be able to be in Sedona. I hope it will be a wonderful festival for you and for my team. I’m very curious about how the festival audience will receive the film. Even though I won’t be there in person, my heart will be there.

Gazelle plays Tuesday and Thursday at the Sedona International Film Festival.

Main image: Nadir Sarıbacak as Yakup in Gazelle. Courtesy of Roaring Cat Films.

The inciting incident for directing and producing my debut feature, Breakup Season, was participating in the inaugural Eastern Oregon Film Festival Residency program, where I spent a month in La Grande, Oregon, writing and developing what became an early draft of that film. When I trekked out there for the first time (initially attending the festival with a short film), I had no clue that a small town in Oregon would become the setting for my debut feature. I had even less of a clue that utilizing the time spent in a residency to build community support for a future film production would become a key component of my filmmaking strategy. 

Living in Los Angeles, I often felt like one of thousands of aspiring filmmakers, forever on the outside looking in. Worse yet, because my career is primarily working as an editor, I never felt like my professional peers viewed me as a director. But on the festival circuit, even with a short film, I could meet people under this pretense. Right from the get-go, Eastern Oregon Film Festival director Christopher Jennings and his team made me feel seen as a bona fide director. Their belief in me made contemplating the enormous leap from short to feature seem possible. And when Chris announced the inaugural Eastern Oregon Film Festival residency program and shared it with festival alumni, I made sure I was first in line to apply and ultimately participate.

Without first attending the festival, I never would’ve known about the residency, proving you truly never know where a festival may take you. After being one of six filmmakers selected for the program, I spent four weeks in La Grande, writing screenplays alongside five other filmmakers. 

It was clear early on that this is where I wanted my debut feature to be set: I was not only creatively inspired by the stunning geography of the location, I was beginning to see how a small town would be way more amenable to our production needs than a major metropolis. A few key necessities were confirmed, and a ton of research and development would come. Two years later, we shot Breakup Season in that very town.

Jennings explains: “The residency concept was built around the idea of facilitating sacred creative time for artists. Eastern Oregon has a way of slowing you down and opening you up, and when you pair that with a community of filmmakers doing the same work, big ideas start to crystallize. That’s exactly what happened with Nelson and Breakup Season, which grew from that experience into a feature film made right here.”

In a town where no feature films have been shot for over 25 years — the last major motion picture filmed in La Grande was 1969’s Paint Your Wagon — a few key locals were genuinely excited about a film production. Our core allies allowed us to pull off a few things that would’ve been near impossible to do in Los Angeles: turning off all the downtown city lights, filming at a functioning small airport, shooting next to a freight train, transporting cast daily for three weeks, and creating a nightclub dance party with over 30 extras at a reasonable cost. 

This combined with the Oregon state-level rebate program allowed us to make an indie movie that looked far bigger than what it cost to make. It may have cost a similar amount in Los Angeles, but the production value and the unique texture far exceeded the equivalent project because of the unique access we had to La Grande. 

Our filmmaking team felt like we unlocked an alternate, attainable way to make an indie movie: lean into a location where the local community is excited about the novelty of a feature film shooting in their community, and therefore enthusiastic about the work and resources that entails.

My experience with Breakup Season inspired my application to the Port Townsend Film Festival’s Filmmaker-in-Residence program. From the outset, I am taking an even more intentional approach to pairing my visit with a plan to initiate excitement for a future production in the town where I’m writing it. Just like my introduction to the Eastern Oregon Film Festival and La Grande, I first explored Port Townsend when I attended with Breakup Season for the Port Townsend Film Festival in 2024. 

I was immediately impressed by the historic seaside village surrounded by mountain vistas, the highly engaged audience (which sold out both screenings), and the emphasis on making every filmmaker feel welcome. Right before I was accepted to this program, PTFF was chosen as one of MovieMaker’s 25 Coolest Film Festivals in the World in 2025.  

Here’s what some of my fellow PTFF Filmmakers in Residence have to say about their residency experience:

“PTFF allowed the time and space to reflect deeply on our film edit. We treasured the honest feedback from the local community on our film cut as well, and made lasting relationships with cinema enthusiasts.” — Mo Scarpelli of Rake Films, who took part in the 2015 PTFF Film Fellowship with Alexandria Bombach)

“The Port Townsend Artist in Residency is so much more than a typical artist’s retreat - it’s a warm embrace from a welcoming community. It’s an entire new world of experiences and conversations that can break open incredible ideas. We loved the creative freedom and we love Port Townsend!” — Lisa Klein and Doug Blush of Madpix Films, 2020 PTFF Filmmakers in Residence

“With the active assistance of PTFF, we turned the artist in residence into a highly productive and extremely worthwhile six-week workshop to develop a live musical theater piece, based on a documentary we showed at the festival. A group of 12 local volunteers participating with the PTFF staff was creative, dynamic and supportive. This wild idea was wonderful in every way.” — Gary Weimberg of Luna Production, 2019 PTFF Film Fellowship (with Catherine Ryan)

In letting me know I would be the 2026 Filmmaker in Residence, PTFF Executive Director Danielle McClelland said of my application: “This integration of writing, production planning, and community support building while you’re here is really the fulfillment of everything we’ve been hoping the residency could be. A big part of our mission is to nurture and support filmmakers. Another is to show the world the stories that are lived here. You’re starting with the idea that the location and the people will inspire what you write. It’s the perfect pairing!” 

In collaboration with the PTFF staff, I’m already preparing to utilize the month I’ll be there to pave the way for a long-lasting relationship with the community. Our initial press release announcing my residency will point potential local crew members to ways they can get involved and direct local film enthusiasts in how they can help us identify potential locations. PTFF also offers fiscal sponsorship to alumni filmmakers who are planning productions in the Olympic Peninsula region, so we’ve already begun receiving tax-deductible donations to the project (and will continue welcoming support at any level).    

I have a romantic comedy and a horror film in early stages of writing, both of which may be a good fit for filming Port Townsend. I plan to see which one suits the region better, but to actively scout and develop both while I’m up there. They’re about as opposite as it gets, and both excite me for different reasons, so I’m starting with an open mind as to which ends up being Feature #2, or something else entirely. It largely depends on what locations we discover and if they suit the respective stories. 

I know I’m still very early in my career, but I’ve already determined that making regional film festivals and their communities integral to my process is the way in which I want to make movies. And this experience is transferable to just about any location in the United States. 

You can contact Nelson here and learn more about the 2026 Port Townsend Residency here.

The 2026 Port Townsend Film Festival is open for submissions until April 15 and will be held September 24-27, 2026.

The 2026 Eastern Oregon Film Festival is open for submissions until July 19 and will be held October 15-17, 2026.

Learn more about the Port Townsend Filmmaker in Residence Program, now open to festival alumni for 2027 applications.

The Eastern Oregon Film Festival is now hosting Filmmaker Field Trips, an offshoot of the residency program, and will be open for applicants for fall 2026 later this year.

Main image: (L-R) Christy Spencer, H. Nelson Tracey, Carly Stewart, Brook Hogan and Vincent Carlston at the Port Townsend Film Festival. Photo by Lily Eckert

The festival showcased an international lineup of films by talented emerging Middle Eastern and Arab filmmakers across two short film programs, including one curated in partnership with Mizna, which for 25 years has has promoted contemporary and experimental approaches to art, literature, and film, questioning and expanding the forms and conceptual frameworks of Arab and SWANA culture.

Mizna publishes a biannual print literary and art journal and produces the Twin Cities Arab Film Festival, the largest and longest-running SWANA-centered film festival in the Midwest. The films included thoughtful, meditative and engaging comedies, dramas, experimental and documentary works with stories, filmmakers and influences from Iraq, Palestine, Egypt, Lebanon, Morocco and Saudi Arabia.

The festival's program also included a collection of shorts about coming of age, being caught between two cultures, embracing connection, and being transformed by a chance meeting. It included the Oscar-qualified film "Nightfaces," directed by Martin Winter and Stefan Langthaler.

NFMLA showcases films by filmmakers of all backgrounds throughout the year, across both our general and InFocus programming. All filmmakers are welcome and encouraged to submit their projects for consideration for upcoming NFMLA Festivals, regardless of the schedule for InFocus programming, which celebrates representation by spotlighting various communities of filmmakers as part of the NFMLA Monthly Film Festival. This project is made possible in part by grant support from the City of Los Angeles Department of Cultural Affairs (DCA), and the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA).  

Here are interviews and details about the films and filmmakers, provided by NFMLA.

“Whispers of Home,” directed by Sahar Ghorishi

About Sahar: Sahar Ghorishi is a British-Iranian multidisciplinary artist and filmmaker based in Los Angeles. She holds a BA in Fine Arts from Goldsmiths, University of London, and an MFA in Film Production from Chapman University with a focus on directing. She works across film, documentary, illustration, and photography, using each medium to explore womanhood, identity, and diasporic memory. 

Her illustration practice blends fine art and storytelling, centering women and cultural narratives. She has created film illustrations for the Locarno Film Festival, and her design work has been featured in publications such as The Guardian and Harper’s Magazine. As a filmmaker, Sahar is the founder of Journey of/to Dawn, a creative platform dedicated to narrative films, documentaries, and visual series that examine Middle Eastern beauty, identity, and truth. Her documentary The Fall of the Standard of Beauty: The Iranian Nose delves into beauty politics and cultural perception. Her recent short film "A Breathless Flower" centers on the Woman, Life, Freedom movement in Iran, while Whispers of Home explores displacement and the meaning of home. Sahar’s work is known for challenging Western beauty standards and amplifying underrepresented voices through a poetic, visually driven lens. She continues to dedicate her art to her heritage, using storytelling as both cultural preservation and resistance.

About “Whispers of Home”: A mother and daughter struggle to live in harmony as they both want different things and have different definitions of freedom. This story addresses the migration and displacement of Iranian women.

Watch the NFMLA interview with Shahar Ghorishi, the director of “Whispers of Home”:

“Passarinho,” directed by Natalia García Agraza

About Natalia: Natalia is a Mexican director and screenwriter who graduated from the Centro de Capacitación Cinematográfica in 2023. She directed the short film "The Last Romantic," nominated for the Student Oscars in 2019, and participated in more than 60 international festivals, including Tribeca, Los Angeles Film Festival, and Morelia Film Festival. She is currently working on her first feature film, Acapulco.

About “Passarinho”: Two teenage girls try to meet their favorite soccer player, but the plan is threatened when one of them gets her first period.

Watch the NFMLA interview with Natalia García Agraza, the director of “Passarinho”:

“She Sings,” directed by Ahmed Ragheb and Lily Ekimian

About Ahmed and Lily: Ahmed T. Ragheb and Lily Ekimian Ragheb are a married filmmaking duo based in Pittsburgh. Lily (American, Russian and Armenian) grew up between Washington, D.C., and Cairo, Egypt. Ahmed (Egyptian, Dutch and American) was born and raised in Cairo. Their films emphasize identity, feminism, cultural dislocation and domestic relationships, and are noted for their use of voiceover and mixed media. Screenings include IFFR (Tiger Short Competition), Cairo IFF, Uppsala (Nominated, Ingmar Bergman Award), AIFVF, the Arab American National Museum and the Mattress Factory. Artist residencies include Squeaky Wheel and the Bemis Center. Together they founded the production company Studio Ragheb. 

About “She Sings”: Aziza shares a recurring dream that takes her on a surreal journey through the post-industrial hills of the American Rust Belt, the eternal fields of Egypt, and the most repressed parts of her mind.

Watch the NFMLA interview with Ahmed Ragheb and Lily Ekimian, the directors of “She Sings”:

"Everything Between Us (Aramızda Kalan Her Şey)," directed by Ilgın G. Korugan

About Ilgın G. Korugan: Ilgın began experimenting with film and video during their undergraduate education at Brown University. After graduating in 2018, they moved to Los Angeles to work as an assistant to Margaret Brown, who had just begun developing her documentary feature, Descendant. Afterwards, Ilgın worked at Blumhouse Productions as an office assistant, later transitioning to post-production assistant. Since 2022, they have been working on set for various films and commercials in both Los Angeles and Istanbul. "Aramızda Kalan Her Şey (Everything Between Us)" is their first professional short film.

About “Everything Between Us (Aramızda Kalan Her Şey)”: Alienated by bullies at school and her strict mother at home, Azra seeks solace by a serene riverside. There, she develops an unspoken bond with a girl who joins her on the opposite shore, opening herself up despite her fears.

Watch the NFMLA interview with Ilgın G. Korugan, the director of “Everything Between Us (Aramızda Kalan Her Şey)”:

"Death Comes To My Side" music video, directed by Oliver Anderson

About Oliver: Oliver Anderson is a globally award-winning filmmaker whose work reimagines stop-motion animation through playful yet poignant toy-inspired worlds and colorful, creature-characters. Under the alias San Francisco Toys, he’s developed a signature style that merges dark comedy with a compassionate outlook, using humor as a way to connect with audiences navigating difficult times. Passionate about helping “diamonds in the rough,” Ollie continues to push the boundaries of handcrafted animation, creating films that both entertain and resonate on a deeper emotional level. He's currently finishing a 40-minute stop-motion animation TV special starring an Academy Award winning actress, two-time Master's champion, founder of the Solheim Cup, and other surprise A-listers.

About "Death Comes To My Side": In a darkly comic showdown, three dolls must outplay Death in a carnival of cruel games, where victory means rebirth — but the cycle ends exactly where it begins. Death always wins.

Watch the NFMLA interview with Oliver Anderson, the director of “Death Come To My Side”:

“Möbius Loop,” directed by Lee Peterkin 

About Lee: Lee Peterkin is a first-generation Palestinian-American filmmaker and founder of Treo Pictures, a boutique production company specializing in music videos, short films, and commercials. A multidisciplinary storyteller, he’s self-taught in cinematography, editing, and sound, with credits spanning sci-fi, drama, and music-driven narratives. His award-winning films include "Möbius Loop," "Glance," and "Prism." Lee has collaborated with agencies like Sunshine Sachs and Condé Nast, and done commercial work for brands including Nike and BabyBjörn. His screenplay Za’atar received an Open Screenplay award, and his cinematography on "Barry," which premiered at SXSW, earned a Grand Jury Award nomination.

About “Möbius Loop”: "Möbius Loop" is a science-fiction film about a scientist, Senna, seeking to perfect a mind- jumping time-travel project. Upon finding a VHS tape that compels her to delve into her family’s  past, she uncovers the key to her research, but in doing so suffers deadly consequences.

Watch the NFMLA interview with Lee Peterkin, the director of “Möbius Loop”:

“My So-Called Iraqi Wedding,” directed by Ayser Salman

About Ayser: Ayser Salman is a filmmaker and award-winning editor dedicated to amplifying underrepresented voices. Born in Iraq and raised in Kentucky with a formative stint in Saudi Arabia, her nomadic upbringing shaped her passion for storytelling. Her comic memoir, The Wrong End of the Table (Skyhorse Publishing, 2019), about growing up Iraqi Muslim in the American South, landed on multiple cultural best-seller lists. Driven by this independent spirit, Ayser wrote, produced, directed, and edited the short film "My So-Called Iraqi Wedding," hoping to inspire more Iraqi American women's stories. She also teaches writing classes helping emerging writers discover their authentic voices.

About “My So-Called Iraqi Wedding”: A comedy short film about the pressures Arab American Muslim women face in reconciling traditional values with a growing modern society that encourages us to find our own happiness.

Watch the NFMLA interview with Ayser Salman, the director of “My So-Called Iraqi Wedding”:

“Re-Entry,” directed by Ariel Mahler

About Ariel: Ariel Mahler is an award-winning trans filmmaker whose work explores memory, identity, and transformation. Her films have screened at renowned venues including Toronto’s TIFF Lightbox, the Hammer Museum, and the TCL Chinese Theatre. Her short film “Re-Entry,” won the Audience Award for Best LGBTQ+ Short at the SCAD Savannah Film Festival and Best Short at Katra Film Series, with additional screenings at festivals worldwide. Her short documentary, “Evan Ever After,” earned multiple honors, including Best Florida Short at the Florida Film Festival and jury prizes at Out on Film Atlanta and Stamped Film Festival. Ariel has been on HuffPost’s list of 10 Trans Filmmakers You Should Know, and IMDB's 20 trans filmmakers working today. She holds an MFA in Directing from the American Film Institute Conservatory.

About “Re-Entry”: A trans NASA scientist rediscovers a long-lost satellite she helped launch, forcing her to face her past and reconcile who she once was with who she's always been.

Watch the NFMLA interview with Ariel Mahler, the director of “Re-Entry”:

“Salma!,” directed by Mary Hanna

About Mary: Mary Hanna is an Egyptian-Canadian filmmaker based in Montreal, Canada. Through whimsical and thoughtful films she attempts to find spaces within the SWANA region and grey pockets that aren’t highlighted in mainstream media. Trained in both architecture and documentary filmmaking, Mary has a deep interest in exploring narrative storytelling through a diasporic SWANA lens. Her stories aim to explore desire, propriety and cultural baggage through a comedic tone, as well as exploring intimate and interpersonal stories that are lined with humorous diasporic themes. Currently her short film “Salma!” which explores drag, belly dance and SWANA identity is being screened in festivals.

About “Salma!”: As Hadi is swept into a flood of childhood memories from Lebanon, he steps into the dreamlike whimsical world of Salma Zahore.

Watch the NFMLA interview with Mary Hanna, the director of “Salma!”:

“Dawn Every Day,” directed by Amir Youssef

About Amir: Amir is an Egyptian filmmaker who strives to create unconventional stories that echo unheard voices, while drawing inspiration from the extremely rich culture of his native Egypt. In his latest work, Amir focuses on themes of alienation and identity during periods of social and political chaos. Amir’s films have played at BFI London Film Festival, Slamdance, SFFILM,  Cleveland International Film Festival, Emir Kusturica's Kustendorf Film Festival, Directors Notes, Princeton University and the National Gallery of Art. It also won awards at El Gouna Film Festival, Urbanworld, Thomas Edison Film Festival, and Oakland International Film Festival, amongst others.

About “Dawn Every Day”: In 1956, 8-year-old Nabil navigates new social norms he cannot fathom that impact his next door best friend in post-nationalized Egypt. Inspired by true events.

Watch the NFMLA interview with Evan Weidenkeller, the DP of “Dawn Every Day”:

Main image: "Whispers of Home." NFMLA

The film, which plays Sunday at Dances With Films New York, could have taken the easy and cathartic path of allowing the woman, Alice, a just revenge. But Roncada refuses to take narrative shortcuts, opting for a textured and painfully human story.

Alice (Kelly Lou Dennis) doesn't want simple vengeance. And the teacher, Mr. Jacobs (Carl Beukes), has complex motives of his own. Both actors are compelling and believable, never showy. And Roncada moves assuredly through a minefield.

We emailed with Roncada when we saw the film last year at the El Dorado Film Festival, where it won Best of Fest. She told us about the personal experiences she brought to "Deliberate," and her refusal to make things too simple for the audience.

MovieMaker: What inspired you to make "Deliberate"? Did you draw on personal experience?

Marta Roncada: I was the student in a student-teacher relationship. This film is my nightmare fantasy of what it would be like to confront my former teacher now that I’m older and can actually understand the true extent of what he did. At the time, I felt like we were in love, and that our relationship was this beautiful and special secret thing that I was lucky to be in.

But when I grew up and I turned the same age he had been, I imagined having that same kind of relationship with a high school student, and it felt so wrong. I kind of went to war with myself, trying to sort which perspective was right, and I put it on the page in the form of these two characters.

Alice represents how I see the relationship now that I can look back on it, and Mr. Jacobs represents what I thought it was back then — and what I was taught to think it was by my teacher.

MovieMaker: There are so many movies inspired by #MeToo, but this one goes in fascinating and complicated directions. It almost starts off like a primer on restorative justice — if the teacher would admit he abused his student, she seems like she'd be open to forgiving him. How did you land on that approach?

Marta Roncada: There are a lot of stories out there about people seeking justice (not only in the context of #MeToo), and most of them make the same point: getting revenge won’t make things better. The path to closure isn’t vengeance, but forgiveness. If I know that, then I have to think that my characters would too.

Alice wants to let go of her pain so she can move on with her life, and she tries to achieve that by forgiving Mr. Jacobs. The ultimate question isn’t why she wants to forgive, but whether or not she can. How can you forgive someone who did something unforgivable? What does it mean for you if you can’t?

Marta Roncada on the Uncompromising Storytelling of 'Deliberate'

MovieMaker: Surprisingly, we learn that neither of them has completely changed since what happened when she was a student. Were you ever tempted to simplify things or make them more black and white? Easier to track, ethically? 

Marta Roncada: Never. The situation is very complicated. There’s a lot of cognitive dissonance involved. Generally speaking, most people want to see themselves as good, even if they do bad things. But if you only see yourself as good, then you don’t have a reason to change. So in the short, Mr. Jacobs is always calling on Alice to believe in his version of events: He is a good person and did nothing wrong because they were in love.

On the other side of things, I personally experienced an incredibly strong impulse to reject the idea that I was a victim. I wanted to keep believing in the “good” version of events too, so then I wouldn’t have to feel the pain that came with the truth. You end up having a situation where it’s so tempting to go back into the mindset of the past, but that’s what keeps you in the cycle and prevents you from changing. Simplifying that would be a disservice to everyone who has gone through something similar in their relationships, and would certainly be less interesting to watch.

MovieMaker: How did you talk through both of these roles with your excellent actors?

Marta Roncada: We had a short rehearsal day where we went through the script together. We spoke about the characters — what their relationship had been like in the past, how it affected them now, what their lives were like — and we ran through the scene together.

It was really important to me to bring humanity to both these characters, so people could see themselves in this story and consider the same questions I had to face as a result of my experiences. Both Kelly and Carl really honored that and brought such amazing vulnerability and honesty to their roles. I can’t recommend working with them enough.

MovieMaker: What has the audience feedback been like?

Marta Roncada: Unbelievable. Before I started working on this, I hadn’t told anyone about my personal experiences with this subject. It was this secret I was ashamed of and terrified to share, so to have received such welcoming responses to this story has meant more to me than I can ever express. I’ve had people come up to me after screenings and tell me about their own experiences. Seeing what this has meant to them has made every bit of struggle worth it. 

MovieMaker: What was the biggest obstacle to making this, and how did you overcome it?

Marta Roncada: Finding the right ending! I wrote and filmed a different ending, but it wasn’t working in the edit. I resisted changing it for the longest time because I wanted a more clear-cut conclusion for Alice, but it didn’t feel as real to me as the rest of the piece. I had to take a break from the project to reflect on it for a while.

At the end of the day, the imbalanced power dynamic and the feelings between these characters is how they have always related to each other. It couldn’t have ended any differently. Maybe in the feature version.

"Deliberate" plays at Dances With Films New York as part of Shorts Block 8 on Sunday at 1:45 p.m.

You can read more of our Dances With Films New York coverage here.

Trying to piece together what had killed Wyatt, his mother, Patti Wheeler, found that he had been taking kratom, a substance from a tree native to Southeast Asia. She remembers him telling her it was just a supplement.

Kratom is easy to get: A compound within it called 7-OH, or 7-hydroxymitragynine, is used to make various products sold in vape shops, gas stations and elsewhere, and millions of Americans use it as a stimulant, or to relieve pain, perhaps as an alternative to opioids.

Kratom is not regulated by the Drug Enforcement Agency or the Food and Drug Administration. The DEA says that its leaves produce stimulant effects in low doses and sedative effects in high doses, and that it "can lead to psychotic symptoms, and psychological and physiological dependence." The FDA says that it "is not lawfully marketed in the U.S. as a drug product, a dietary supplement, or a food additive in conventional food" and warns against its use for any kind of medical treatment until agency scientists can better evaluate it.

Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. announced a plan last summer to restrict access to some kratom products, citing safety concerns.

But the Holistic Alternative Recovery Trust, which represents 7-OH makers and consumers, has argued that the compound does not meet the statutory criteria for prohibition, and has value as "a potential harm-reduction tool that warrants responsible regulation, not prohibition."

In remembrance of Wyatt, Patti Wheeler sought to educate the public about kratom, and enlisted an old friend — producer Joanne Rubino, who years before had worked with her and her sons on a planned TV project based on a series of books about their globetrotting adventures.

Rubino put Wheeler in contact with filmmaking twins Jamie and Jason Neese, certain that they would feel an affinity for a mother of twins. Patti Wheeler hit it off quickly with the filmmakers, whose extensive credits include co-executive producing the Emmy-nominated Netflix series The Umbrella Academy.

Patti Wheeler is the executive producer of the resulting documentary, Kratom: Side Effects May Include, which plays Sunday at Dances With Films New York.

“Being a parent is the most important and amazing role in one’s lifetime. You do everything to keep them safe and then they walk into a gas station and buy a little bottle on a shelf, and are gone at 27,” Patti Wheeler said in a statement. “This unthinkable tragedy is a deep pain that will never go away and the driving force behind my determination to bring change, justice and do something that saves lives." 

Joanne Rubino produced the doc, and emailed with us about the future of kratom, and conducting the painful interviews for the documentary, which is now seeking distribution.

Joanne Rubino on Making Kratom: Side Effects May Include

MovieMaker: I understand that Patti wanted to make this film to spare others from what she's experienced. How does it affect the documentary when the executive producer blames kratom for such a terrible loss? Does it affect how the film presents kratom?

Joanne Rubino: We feel strongly that we gave everyone a voice and invited all sides to participate. It's really more about the kratom industry and the lack of regulation and transparency as a whole.

MovieMaker: Some of the kratom users interviewed in the film — who advocate for its use – still support some kind of regulation. And you show that many users want to make sure it remains available. Do you want a ban on kratom, or just regulation?

Joanne Rubino: We do not want to ban kratom. We want the industry to take responsibility for the products, as they are selling to the tune of billions of dollars. We have spoken to numerous experts who all agree that it may have benefits but there needs to be much more research and reclassification of the products if they are currently calling it a food.

MovieMaker: How much faith do you have in RFK and legislators who are looking into greater regulation? 

Joanne Rubino: We are pro any regulation, wherever it comes from. This is not a partisan issue. It's a human issue, and we are hoping our film unifies and brings awareness to the masses and ultimately saves lives.

MovieMaker: Finally, what was the greatest challenge in making the film, and how did you overcome it?

Joanne Rubino: The greatest challenge of making the film was hearing these heartbreaking stories of sons, daughters, sisters, brothers — so many people whose lives have been lost or destroyed. And the numbers continue to climb.

You can read more of our Dances With Films New York coverage here.

Main image: Kratom: Side Effects May Include. Dances With Films.

He enlisted the help of fellow USC film school graduate Katy Krauland, who wrote the script and produced it with Pineda. At one point they wanted to set it in an office building, since so many were sitting vacant during Covid lockdowns.

But then they found an incredibly creepy location: an abandoned hospital. The discovery changed the whole direction of the film that became Infirmary, which premiered Friday night to an extremely positive reception at Dances With Films New York.

Krauland and Pineda prefer not to disclose the location of the Los Angeles-area facility, because it is a target of frequent break-ins and they don't want to add to its notoriety.

"It's like a 200,000-square-foot hospital. It took us forever to convince them to let us shoot there. We didn't even have to dress it much. So it was really horrifying experience," Pineda said Friday at a post-screening Q&A.

The film uses surveillance camera footage for long establishing shots of decaying halls, littered with detritus and medical mannequins and sometimes lit only by flickering fluorescents.

But the most horrifying sequences are recorded via the body cams of the two leads, Paul Syre and Mark Anthony Williams, both of whom are excellent, as is Danielle Kennedy as a hospital administrator.

Syre plays Edward, a young man starting his first night shift at an abandoned infirmary with a mysterious past. Williams plays his fellow guard and supervisor, Lester, who gets sadistic thrills from scaring the new guy. Both actors wore actual body cams to capture footage.

"We should have had like a DP credit," Syre joked.

Shooting Infirmary in a Real Abandoned Hospital

Williams noted that though he's been acting for 30 years, he'd never done a horror film before. His representatives sent him the script, he auditioned, and he and Syre gelled in a chemistry read.

"And then when we got to the location, we were like, holy s---," Williams recalled at the Q&A. "They had medical records of people from like, 50 years ago, still in the building. It was really very creepy."

The real abandoned hospital, like the one in the film, requires round-the-clock security because of people sneaking in at night. The filmmakers asked the real guards for their worst stories and incorporated them into the film.

The filmmakers self-financed Infirmary on a very tight budget, the majority of which went toward paying to use the hospital, Pineda said.

He said at the premiere that the film has gotten strong early interest from distributors. They would be wise not to rush it to streaming, because it benefits from being seen in a dark theater with an audience and no interruptions. Infirmary quickly becomes mesmerizing.

Cinematographer Donald Nam does an impressive job of keeping things compelling using only the found footage, luxuriating in the darkness and griminess of the location without sacrificing clarity.

The one place where the filmmakers allowed the film to stray from verisimilitude is in its sound. The hum and churn of lights, air conditioning and other mysterious building sounds eventually give way to an onslaught of noise.

"Sound design was very challenging, because that was kind of the one rule we broke in terms of the authenticity of the film," Pineda explained. "We really wanted the sound design to be diegetic, derived from sound design elements that you would actually get from the scene. So we kind of cheated there and actually hired a composer to put together kind of a score, but it was a very atmospheric and almost diegetic in a way."

Krauland and Pineda also have ideas for a sequel.

"There are a lot of layers to the movie," Krauland hinted Friday.

You can read more of our Dances With Films New York coverage here.

Main image: Infirmary. Courtesy of Dances With Films New York.