As a filmmaker, I’ve always been interested in the relationship between standards, expectations, and anxiety. My first film, the surreal comedy Counterweight, blew up the insecurities and self loathing of a man to the point of a dreamscape so wild it threatens to overtake his waking life. My second film, the family drama One Hundred, zeroed in on the assumptions and unspoken pressure points of a parent-child relationship suddenly crumbling under the weight of a simple conflict. My most recent film, the screwball comedy Three Women and a Possible Fire Next Door, inverts the formula and instead looks at it from the outside. How does anxiety look from the outside when the standard is unclear? What effect does that have on their relationships? 

Like my previous films, A-Frame is about a character reckoning with the pressure of an expectation- this time the pressure of maturity, religion, and appearances. Unlike those films however, A-Frame is about the universal fear of accidentally shitting your pants. Perhaps worst of all, the story is deeply and unfortunately autobiographical. Almost nothing has been changed or added in translating this terrible anecdote from my own experience into a film. Beyond the fear of death, few things are as universal as the terror that accompanies knowing how close you are to shitting your pants in public. It’s an intimate, intense fear. A personal melodrama that exposes you to shame and humiliation through the failure to perform perhaps the world most common act. People don’t forget the kid that shit their pants. And it’s there where our story begins.

The creative opportunity this project offers is nothing short of bountiful. Directorially, I want to lock you in the experience and magnify the main character’s anxiety a la Uncut Gems. More than any of my previous works, A-Frame offers the chance to really highlight my skills as a visual storyteller. The setting of the summer camp, with its wide open spaces, marks a departure from my previous apartment-bound shorts. As the main character moves about the camp in search of a restroom, the camera will trace his every step. We’ll hold on his face as the wheels turn in his mind, allowing the audience to do the math on his decision-making right alongside him. I want the experience to linger with the audience- the combination of dark comedy and coming of age rippling in your mind far beyond the end of the film.

I’m excited to move A-Frame from script to screen because it offers the chance to create a rich, vivid story with a subject matter that illuminates a wide spectrum of emotion. I aspire to make films that examine the emotions that inform our decision-making, whether we’re conscious of them or not. It’s a belief I feel is essential in times like ours. 

Film is impossible to do without a community around you; I ask and hope that you’ll join this creative community by offering your invaluable financial support.