I’m a narrative non-fiction writer who has so far focused mostly on Stanley Kubrick. After the publication of my first book, Stanley Kubrick and Me: Thirty Years at His Side, in its English translation, I was described by The New York Times as “Italy’s leading Kubrick expert.” I have been studying Kubrick’s life and films for about twenty years and have now written four books and numerous essays on different aspects of his work. I also adapted Stanley Kubrick and Me into the documentary S is for Stanley, which won the David di Donatello Award for Best Documentary Feature.
Tell us about the Kubrick Archive in London, what were the most surprising discoveries you made there?
My work on Kubrick is always based on new, original research. I interview people who worked with and knew Kubrick well, and I visit archives — the largest and most important of which is, of course, the Stanley Kubrick Archive, held at the London College of Communication, University of the Arts London. It contains material donated by Kubrick’s widow Christiane after his death, ranging from film scripts and correspondence with collaborators to research he conducted, behind-the-scenes photographs, and artefacts such as costumes and props. It is a treasure trove of daunting scale and a unique source for understanding, truly and for the first time, how Kubrick worked.
It is difficult to single out one particularly revealing item. I can tell you what surprised me most on my last visit, when I was studying the long and convoluted creative process that culminated in the production of Eyes Wide Shut. I knew that Kubrick wanted to adapt Schnitzler’s Traumnovelle as early as the late 1960s, but I had no idea how extensively he revisited the project in the early 1980s. He corresponded with Schnitzler’s nephew and had Schnitzler’s own adapted screenplay — written in the 1920s for a proposed film by G. W. Pabst — translated into English. Comparing that script to Eyes Wide Shut, it becomes clear that Kubrick incorporated several ideas from Schnitzler’s version. Kubrick even drafted a preliminary production plan to shoot the film in London standing in for New York, with Steve Martin and Meryl Streep as the leads. I can’t wait to understand it all better and write about it in my next book.
A.I. Artificial Intelligence, directed by Steven Spielberg in 2001, was originally a Stanley Kubrick project, an work that stages one of the central debates of our time, namely to what extent AI can be a resource and how to prevent its misuse, potentially even harmful uses. Did you find information in the Kubrick Archive about the original project that differs from what ultimately became the film?
A.I. was always conceived as a fable, and when Kubrick wrote it there was little available information about artificial intelligence as we understand it today. The story revolved around intelligent robots capable of performing specific tasks, reflecting the predominant view of AI at the time. From the drafts and notes Kubrick left, I would say his main concerns involved the evolution of the human species through technology — quite literally as hybrids between organic and mechanical life. The latest drafts are more abstract, as is Spielberg’s completed film.
The film we know is obviously different from what it might have been had Kubrick directed it, but it remains faithful in terms of story and character — at least to Kubrick’s latest drafts. The issue is that Kubrick kept rewriting the project, alone and with another writer, so we simply cannot know where he would ultimately have taken it. It is not just a matter of directing, but of development. Spielberg wrote the screenplay and directed the film based on the second-to-last treatment and the preparatory work Kubrick had done. But Kubrick was still revising the story when he abandoned it in 1995, so the point I tried to make in a chapter of my book Cracking the Kube where I chronicled the development of the film is that we will never know what A.I. by Stanley Kubrick would have been.
I consider 2001: A Space Odyssey to be the Sistine Chapel of the 20th century: just as Michelangelo’s work in the 1400s represented the pinnacle of artistic expression, the same is true of Kubrick’s film. Can you reveal something surprising about this infinite masterpiece that we haven’t already heard?
The surprising fact is that the film as we know it emerged almost at the last minute. 2001: A Space Odyssey is the perfect example of Kubrick’s working method — he kept generating new ideas until the very end, often reshaping the project entirely. As I explain in my book 2001 between Kubrick and Clarke, the film began as a fictional documentary about the early stages of human space exploration; over four years, it gradually evolved into a mythological statement about humanity’s place in the universe.
The most radical change — when Kubrick moved away from Arthur C. Clarke’s more literal and scientific approach — occurred only at the end of their collaboration. In the last five or six months, Kubrick made the decisions that transformed the film’s tone and feel: he eliminated the voice-over narration, which explained much of the action, cut several dialogue scenes, and used music to guide emotional responses. We often imagine a genius filmmaker who executes a perfectly designed plan, but with Kubrick nothing could be further from the truth. He knew what he did not want, and worked tirelessly to discover new and more compelling ways to tell the story he had chosen. Nothing in a Stanley Kubrick film was fixed from the beginning.
WILD FILMMAKER is a global movement created to support independent authors; we aim to be what James B. Harris was for Stanley Kubrick. Without James B. Harris, we certainly wouldn’t be here today talking about the greatest American director in the history of cinema. Do you think our work is useful, and that people who discover and help launch artists with an original vision are missing—or are rare—in today’s contemporary film industry?
My view of the current film industry is too limited for me to speak with any authority. It is true that without his partnership with James B. Harris it is possible — if not likely — that Kubrick would have remained on the margins of American filmmaking. But Harris did not “discover” Kubrick, nor did he nurture him as a patron or mentor.
They were equal partners who wanted to make good films, and they were both satisfied with their roles: Harris as a producer who could also write, and Kubrick as a writer-director who also understood the production side extremely well. Their split happened, in fact, because both wanted as much creative control as possible. Harris and Kubrick were true soul mates in their approach to cinema and to art in general, and Harris’s influence on Kubrick is often underestimated.
Given your intense study devoted to the filmography and biography of Stanley Kubrick, I’d like to ask you a question that touches on your unconscious: have you ever dreamed of him?
I must have, given how much of my daily work revolves around him, but I don’t recall any specific dream. Perhaps I think about his films enough while awake that my subconscious needs a break!
George Megrelishvili( stage name: George Megrela) is an actor from Georgia, ( a republic of, country). Now he is based in LA , CA. He’s bending his rich cultural background with his passion for acting and performance.
-Do you remember the exact moment you fell in love with cinema?
Yes, I do. I remember I was a young boy when I first watched one of the legendary movies “The Godfather” and it strongly impressed me. It excited and influenced me so much that I remember seeing it three times during a day.
-Tell us about your project “Call of duty”.
I’m incredibly proud to be a part of the popular game “Call of Duty” as Viktor Reznov (Only the face). It’s amazing to see my face in the game, especially alongside the iconic Gary Oldman whom I’ve always admired. It’s truly an amazing gift for me that after such an iconic actor, I also had a chance to bring this character to life again.I’ve always dreamed of sharing the set with Gary Oldman, and I truly believe that one day it will happen. I’m excited for what the future holds.
-Which Director inspires you the most?
Martin Scorsese, Christopher Nolan and David Fincher.
-What do you dislike about the world and what would you change?
I wish I could live in a better and more humane world, the world without wars and violence, where there are no people living in poverty and no children dying in wars or going hungry.
-How do you imagine cinema in 100 years?
I’m sure after 100 years, the film industry will be far more developed, emotional, and fascinating, with new ideas and technologies shaping cinema. People will still talk about cinematography and legends like Scorsese, De Niro, DiCaprio, Brad Pitt, Al Pacino, and other great filmmakers and actors—and I hope that one day they will talk about me and my role in cinematography too.
This is my dream, and I believe it will come true.
Dr. Željko Mirković is a highly acclaimed and internationally recognized filmmaker whose documentary work has earned over 136 awards from festivals and competitions around the world. His feature documentaries The Second Meeting and Tesla Nation were both officially Oscar-qualified, a rare distinction that speaks to the global reach and artistic credibility of his work. Alongside his filmmaking career, Dr. Mirković is an Associate Research Professor at the Werth Institute for Entrepreneurship & Innovation at the University of Connecticut, where he brings together media, communication, and entrepreneurial storytelling to study how narratives can shape culture and innovation. He also holds a PhD in the field of documentary film, in which he explored how documentary storytelling can function as a form of soft power — a way for nations, communities, and ideas to influence the world not through force, but through compelling, human-centered narratives. Together, his academic research and award-winning films demonstrate how documentary can be both an artistic medium and a powerful tool for cultural diplomacy and global understanding.”
Filmography
Documentaries – Film Director, Producer & Scriptwriter
“He is UCONN- Big Red” (26 min.) University of Connecticut, 2025.
“Innovation in Connecticut” (56 min.) University of Connecticut, 2024.
“Saban Bajramovic- My Journey” (56 min.) Optimistic film, 2024
“Tesla Nation” / season 3/ (10 x 25 mins.) Radio Television of Serbia – Optimistic Film, 2023.
“My Dear Friend Science with Vladimir Cmiljanovic- Basel University, Switzerland” – (3 x 25 mins.) Radio Television of Serbia – Optimistic Film. 2022.
“Tesla Nation” / season 2/ (10 x 25 mins.) Radio Television of Serbia – Optimistic Film. 2021.
“My Dear Friend Science with Gordana Vunjak Novakovic- Columbia University” – (10 x 25 mins.) Radio Television of Serbia – Optimistic Film. 2021.
“My Dear Friend Science with Vladan Vuletic- MIT and Harvard University” – (10 x 25 mins.) Radio Television of Serbia – Optimistic Film. 2020.
“My Dear Friend Science with Jelena Kovacevic- NYU Tandon.” – (5 x 25 mins.) Radio Television of Serbia – Optimistic Film. 2021.
“My Dear Friend Science with Zoric Pantic- Wentworth University” – (5 x 25 mins.) Radio Television of Serbia – Optimistic Film. 2021.
“Tesla Nation” / season 1/ (10 x 25 mins.) Radio Television of Serbia – Optimistic Film. 2018-2019.
“YouTubers in Serbia.” (5 x45 min.) Radio Television of Vojvodina – Optimistic Film. 2015 – 2016.
“Meet the Ambassadors in Serbia.” (22 x 45 mins.) Radio Television of Vojvodina – Optimistic Film. 2014 – 2015.
“My Dreams.” (5 x 45 mins.) Radio Television of Vojvodina – Optimistic Film. 2013. Video Storytelling campaigns
“Welcome to UConn” (social media campaign, 43 x 1 min. short films presented by CT Governor, Senator, UConn President, Provost, Vice Presidents, Professors, Students, Successful UConn Entrepreneurs and Alumni) University of Connecticut, CT, USA, 2024.
“Swiss Rockets” (social media campaign, 30 x 2 min. short films about CEO, Founders, Scientists, Investors, Researchers, Staff, Swiss and International Partners, Academics, Biotech Leaders and Professionals), Swiss Rockets- Optimistic film, Switzerland, 2024.
-Do you remember the exact moment you fell in love with cinema?
“Long before his international film career, Željko Mirković was already deeply creatively engaged. From his high-school years, he was involved in a wide range of artistic and cultural activities that shaped the way he tells stories today. During that formative period, he developed a strong appreciation for both European auteur cinema and classic American filmmaking, a dual influence that can still be seen in his work — blending European emotional depth and reflection with American narrative clarity and pacing. That early, continuous engagement with culture, storytelling, and film created the foundation for the filmmaker and scholar he would later become.”
-Tell us about your project “Innovation in Connecticut”.
Innovation in Connecticut is a documentary initiative launched under the leadership of UConn President Dr. Radenka Maric and directed by Dr. Željko Mirković to present the University of Connecticut as a central engine of scientific, technological, and economic innovation. At its core, the film is about how research universities drive real-world progress. It presents UConn not simply as a campus, but as a living innovation ecosystem — where scientists, engineers, physicians, entrepreneurs, and students collaborate to solve problems that affect:
public health
advanced manufacturing
energy and sustainability
digital and biomedical technologies
workforce development The documentary situates UConn’s research inside a larger story: Connecticut’s transformation from a traditional industrial state into a modern, knowledge-driven economy. It shows how university-based innovation connects directly to startups, established industries, hospitals, and state and federal agencies. Rather than treating science as something abstract, the film frames it as a tool for improving lives, strengthening communities, and ensuring economic resilience.
Why this story matters for UConn
For UConn, the documentary is about identity and mission. It presents UConn as:
a nationally competitive research institution
a magnet for top scientists and students
a hub where ideas move from lab to marketplace Under Dr. Maric’s presidency, UConn has emphasized innovation, interdisciplinarity, and public impact. The film reflects that vision by showing that UConn’s research is not isolated inside laboratories — it is actively shaping medicine, engineering, business, and public policy. In other words, the documentary answers the question: Why does UConn matter beyond its classrooms? And the answer it gives is: Because UConn is a generator of the ideas, technologies, and talent that Connecticut and the nation depend on.
Why it matters for Connecticut
Connecticut has long been known for aerospace, defense, medicine, insurance, and manufacturing. But to stay competitive, those industries must continually innovate. The documentary shows UConn as the backbone of that innovation pipeline:
educating the future workforce
conducting breakthrough research
supporting startups and tech transfer
attracting federal and private investment By highlighting UConn’s research impact, the film makes a broader argument: Investing in science is not just an academic decision — it is an economic strategy for the entire state. The film therefore becomes not just a university documentary, but a portrait of Connecticut’s future.
Why it matters for the United States At a national level, the film aligns with a major U.S. priority: keeping America globally competitive in science, technology, and innovation.
Universities like UConn play a critical role in:
medical discoveries
advanced materials
cybersecurity
clean energy
artificial intelligence By focusing on one state and one university, the documentary makes a bigger point: America’s strength is built locally — through regional innovation hubs that feed into the national research and technology system. UConn becomes a case study for how public universities support national security, economic leadership, and scientific advancement. How the documentary reflects Dr. Željko Mirković’s filmmaking style Dr. Željko Mirković is internationally recognized for a documentary style that blends:
visual storytelling
human-centered narratives
a cinematic sense of place
intellectual depth Rather than relying on dry explanations, his films typically:
follow people
reveal environments
and allow images, motion, and sound to carry meaning In Innovation in Connecticut, that approach is especially powerful. Science is often hard to communicate — it can feel abstract or intimidating. Mirković’s style counters that by showing:
scientists at work
students in labs
machines, instruments, and experiments in motion
the physical spaces where discovery happens This makes innovation visible and tangible, not just theoretical. How Mirković’s style helps tell the story of science Mirković does not treat science as just data or results. He treats it as a human and creative process. Through his lens:
researchers become storytellers
laboratories become stages
experiments become visual narratives This aligns perfectly with the film’s mission: to show that innovation is not a slogan — it is something people do every day. His cinematic approach gives science:
emotion
rhythm
visual beauty That makes the message more persuasive: science is not only useful — it is inspiring. The deeper message of the documentary Ultimately, Innovation in Connecticut is saying something very simple and very powerful:
Science is the foundation of the future. For UConn, it means leadership in research. For Connecticut, it means economic renewal. For the United States, it means global competitiveness. By combining Dr. Maric’s strategic vision with Dr. Mirković’s cinematic storytelling, the documentary becomes more than an institutional film. It becomes a statement about why investing in knowledge, discovery, and innovation is essential for society.
-Which Director inspires you the most?
“Željko Mirković’s artistic roots are shaped by a rich dialogue between European and American cinema. He has long admired the poetic humanism of Italian masters such as Federico Fellini, Pier Paolo Pasolini, Vittorio De Sica, and Giuseppe Tornatore, as well as the radical storytelling of the French New Wave. At the same time, he has been deeply influenced by Russian filmmakers including Andrei Tarkovsky and Sergei Eisenstein, whose work expanded cinema into philosophy, memory, and spiritual inquiry. From the United States, he draws inspiration from directors and documentarians such as Martin Scorsese, Oliver Stone, Jim Jarmusch, and Ken Burns, whose films shaped his understanding of history, character, and the power of long-form storytelling. Together, these traditions became the foundation of his distinctive documentary style — often described as ‘documentary fairy tales’ — films that respect real human stories while carrying strong messages of peace, empathy, and cultural connection, grounded in the belief that we are all one.
Today, Dr. Mirković continues this work as an Associate Research Professor at the University of Connecticut, where he explores how storytelling, innovation, and visual communication can shape society. His recent focus on science documentaries reflects his belief that science offers some of the most powerful and hopeful narratives of our time — stories that expand knowledge, improve lives, and point toward a more positive future. This same philosophy inspired the founding of his production company, Optimistic Film — a name that reflects his worldview: that through culture, understanding, and shared stories, people across the world can live together with deeper respect and optimism.”
-How do you imagine cinema in 100 years?
Today, Dr. Mirković works as an Associate Research Professor at the University of Connecticut, where he also teaches a forward-looking course on how to make films using smartphones. He believes that the future of cinema will be shaped by new tools, devices, and formats, but that true filmmaking will always rest on the timeless principles of classical cinema — storytelling, composition, rhythm, and emotional truth. New technologies may change how films are made, but how we tell stories is what ultimately creates meaning and lasting value. This philosophy also drives his recent focus on science documentaries, where innovation and discovery provide endless new stories that shape human life in positive ways. It is the same spirit that inspired him to found Optimistic Film, a company built on the belief that through storytelling, understanding, and shared culture, people across the world can live together with deeper respect and optimism.”
-What is your impression of WILD FILMMAKER?
The Wild Filmmaker Platform represents an important and timely space for independent documentary voices, and I express my sincere respect for its commitment to supporting bold, original, and socially engaged storytelling. With more than 25 years of experience in documentary filmmaking, Dr. Mirkovic brings a deep understanding of the creative, ethical, and practical dimensions of nonfiction cinema. This long-standing professional practice, combined with active membership in the International Documentary Association (IDA), the European Film Academy, and the European Documentary Network (EDN), reflects a strong engagement with the global documentary community and its highest professional standards. I warmly encourage the Wild Filmmaker Platform to continue expanding its connections with other filmmakers’ platforms, networks, and international organizations. By building bridges across communities, Wild Filmmaker can further strengthen opportunities for collaboration, visibility, and creative exchange, helping independent filmmakers reach wider audiences and develop more impactful work. Such openness and cooperation are essential for the future of documentary cinema, and I look forward to seeing the Wild Filmmaker Platform grow as a dynamic hub for filmmakers around the world.
The treasure of Templars of Rennes the Castle in France discovered by Abbe Sauniere member of Priory of Sion then by Florence and Patrick against Brouillard Society .
The characters are multi -dimensional. The frantic search for the Holy Grail is the incandescent fulcrum of this intricate. Thriller/mystery where espionage and daring escapes follow one another between present and past . Everything wonderfully turns around the Grail, its fascinating mystery , the figure of Jésus -Christ , Mary Magdalene and iconic characters such as Abbe Boudet , Jules Verne , Victor Hugo , George Sand , Chopin , Wagner, the empress Sissi , Manon medium – pranotherapist and the king Ludwig of Bavaria who in addition to being part of the Priory of Sion , share the same need to protect their precious documents from the dirty hands of Brouillard esoteric society.
Biography
Florence Cazebon-Taveau born in 1962 is a multi –artist (painter, medium , writer, poet, screenwriter, actress ) who has obtained 285 Award Winner on many film festivals for this screenplay published by Edilivre Edition.
All cinematographic rights are one hundred per cent with the author and not with the editor.
I am an artist, designer with 15+ years of experience building digital experiences, visual brands, and cinematic storytelling. I have worked with small boutique shops, to entertainment companies, to large global corporations.
From enterprise UX and motion design, logo design, to my award-winning feature-length documentary film (A Father’s Day on Amazon Prime), I blend creativity with strategy to deliver what engages and inspires.
-Do you remember the exact moment you fell in love with cinema?
I would have to say, I first fell in love with cinema when I watched a movie titled, “Sharky’s Machine” starring Burt Reynolds. It wasn’t a huge blockbuster movie at that time. (I was a kid in middle school when it came out.) But, there is a scene in the movie where the bad guy falls from the window of a high rise building. The camera stayed on the stuntman almost all the way down to the ground. As a kid I thought, “Wow, I would like to be involved in making something like that!”
-Tell us about your project “Why We Create. The Art of Being Human”.
“Why We Create. The Art of Being Human” is a visually rich, emotionally resonant video that explores why art, music, and creativity are not luxuries—but necessities in any functioning society.
The goal: to remind people that art is not “extra,” it’s essential to our identity, empathy, memory, history and evolution.
-Which Director inspires you the most?
There are a few, but I would say Spike Lee. The subject matter of the films that he produces and directs, plus his signature ‘character on a dolly’ move while the camera follows is world class art!
-What do you dislike about the world and what would you change?
I dislike the lack of truth and authenticity right now. I’m encouraged however, by the belief that truth and authenticity still matter, even in a time when it can be easy to hide behind screens and present a false version of oneself. No matter the disguise, honesty has a quiet strength—it always finds a way to surface and be seen.
-How do you imagine cinema in 100 years?
I imagine that 100 years from now, cinema will still be thriving sustained by the foundations we, as creatives, are building today, and by those who came before us. Knowledge will be shared through mentorship and teaching, empowering those eager to learn. From there, new generations will discover their own voices through hands-on experience, passing their insights forward in an ever-evolving cycle. In this way, cinema can continue to grow while preserving its artistic integrity.
-What is your impression of WILD FILMMAKER?
My impression of WILD FILMMAKER is that it is, or will be, a hub of all things film. A database of filmmakers and their films, up and coming projects by filmmakers. And a whos-who of award recipients and their projects.
I am a South American director, screenwriter, and producer. I have been working in audiovisual production for twenty years, specifically in central Brazil. My filmography includes short films, feature films, and series, covering both fiction and documentaries. My most recent works are the feature film ‘Do Sul a Vingança’ (From The South, The Revenge) and the documentary series ‘Mitos Vivos’ (Living Miths).
I seek inspiration in the popular culture of central South America, a convergence of cultures from Brazil, Paraguay, Argentina, and Bolivia. I believe this macro-region is rich in stories yet to be told in cinema: from the conflicts arising from the encounter between Europeans and indigenous peoples, through the War of the Triple Alliance, to the present day with the disputes between drug trafficking factions in Latin America. I value our mixed heritage and the wisdom of the popular imagination to address social themes.
-Do you remember the exact moment you fell in love with cinema?
I remember two defining moments. The first was at age 5, when I watched ‘Star Wars’ with my father. It was a dubbed version, and at the time I understood very little of the plot, but the love for going to the cinema never left me.
The second, and decisive moment, happened when I was already 37. I produced a short documentary about Fort Coimbra, located in the Brazilian Pantanal. When screening the film for the local community, I realized how meaningful it was for them. People saw their own stories on the screen and showed an emotion I had never witnessed before. From that moment on, I decided I would never stop seeking out these stories to share them with the world through cinema.
-Tell us about your project “Mitos Vivos (Living Miths)”.
Mitos Vivos’ was inspired by the oral tradition of my childhood, when I witnessed the hypnotic power of legends told by my grandparents. As I deepened my research years later, I sought to understand the social function of these narratives.
I discovered that these fantastic tales are tools of popular wisdom used to process reality. They serve as mirrors of real conflicts, addressing themes such as racism, religious intolerance, and machismo. I also observed an interesting fact among indigenous peoples: the use of myth as an agent of environmental preservation. The project explores how a society synthesizes its sorrows and joys through folklore and demonstrates how external factors — such as the economy, migratory flows, and the environment — play a decisive role in shaping the unique cultural identity of each people in our region.
-Which Director inspires you the most?
I greatly admire the work of my compatriot Fernando Meirelles. What inspires me most in his work is the social realism, a visceral approach that, at times, adopts an almost documentary aesthetic. This ability to bring the truth of the streets into fiction is something I always strive to observe.
-What do you dislike about the world and what would you change?
What troubles me most is the resistance to accepting the facts. Despite all the scientific evidence regarding how certain human activities destroy our planet, these practices persist, almost always generating profit for the few at the expense of the many.
What I would change is our relationship with energy. I believe the transition to sustainable energy sources is urgent, but it must be carried out with a focus on collective benefits and the preservation of life, not merely for economic interest.
-How do you imagine cinema in 100 years?
From a technological standpoint, it is difficult to imagine what the cinematic experience will look like a century from now. However, from the perspective of art, I believe cinema will always hold a prominent place. It will remain essential, both as a powerful social mirror and because it fulfills the intrinsic human habit of being moved by good stories on screen.
-What is your impression of WILD FILMMAKER?
I have a great impression. Wild Filmmaker plays a crucial role in creating a global network for independent cinema, far from the constraints of the commercial circuit. I greatly value the focus on authenticity and experimentation. These qualities are vital for the survival of cinema as an art form, in a time when the mass industry tends to stifle authorial creativity.
Mysti Cozart Smith is a storyteller at heart—writer, director, producer, and composer—who believes cinema should leave a mark on the soul, not just the screen. I create character-driven stories rooted in emotion, faith, longing, and human connection. My work lives in the space between intimacy and scale—small towns, quiet moments, unresolved tensions, and the unseen spiritual undercurrents that guide our lives.
I come from a background in music and storytelling, and that rhythm deeply influences how I approach film. For me, cinema isn’t about spectacle—it’s about resonance. I’m drawn to stories that stay with you long after the credits roll, stories that ask the viewer to feel, reflect, and remember.
Do you remember the exact moment you fell in love with cinema?
Yes—very clearly.
It wasn’t a single film, but a realization: that cinema could say what people often don’t know how to articulate. I remember watching a quiet, emotionally driven scene where nothing “big” happened on screen—yet everything changed internally. I remember thinking, this is language without words.
That moment taught me that cinema could hold grief, hope, faith, and love all at once. From then on, I didn’t just watch films—I studied how they made me feel. That’s when cinema became more than entertainment; it became vocation.
Tell us about your project “Love Comes Home To Holly”.
Love Comes Home To Holly is a faith-forward romantic drama set in a small town during the Christmas season—but at its core, it’s about reconciliation, healing, and the courage to come home to who you really are.
The story follows a woman who returns to her hometown carrying both success and regret, only to confront unresolved relationships, buried faith, and a love she never knew she needed. What makes the film unique is its emotional honesty—it doesn’t rush redemption or romance. It allows space for silence, struggle, and grace.
The film is deeply personal to me. It explores the idea that love doesn’t always arrive loudly—sometimes it waits patiently for us to be ready. It also quietly challenges the industry by blending faith and cinema in a way that is accessible, human, and emotionally grounded rather than didactic.
A teaser and full trailer are currently in post-production, alongside a cinematic music video featuring an original song written for the film—designed to extend the emotional world of the story beyond the screen and into music.
Which director inspires you the most?
I’m inspired by directors who trust restraint and subtext—those who understand that what’s not said can be more powerful than dialogue.
Terrence Malick has deeply influenced me in terms of visual poetry and spiritual inquiry. I’m also inspired by filmmakers who honor character above trend, and who aren’t afraid of stillness, silence, or moral questions. I admire directors who create space for contemplation rather than spectacle—who let the audience meet the film halfway.
What do you dislike about the world and what would you change?
I dislike how rushed everything has become—how quickly we consume stories without sitting with them. We scroll past pain, faith, and beauty as if they’re disposable. I believe we’ve lost patience with depth.
If I could change anything, it would be our willingness to listen—to each other and to ourselves. Cinema has the power to slow us down, to re-humanize us. I want my work to invite reflection rather than distraction, empathy rather than outrage.
How do you imagine cinema in 100 years?
Technologically, cinema will evolve beyond anything we can currently imagine—but emotionally, I believe it will circle back to its roots.
In 100 years, the films that endure won’t be the ones with the most advanced tools, but the ones that tell timeless truths. Story will always matter. Human longing will always matter. Faith, doubt, love, loss—these themes will never expire.
I believe cinema’s future lies in authenticity. Audiences will crave meaning again. And filmmakers who tell honest, courageous stories will always find their place.
What is your impression of WILD FILMMAKER?
WILD FILMMAKER feels like a necessary voice in today’s cinematic landscape.
It champions independent creators who aren’t afraid to be bold, thoughtful, and unconventional. It celebrates arthouse cinema not as a trend, but as a philosophy—one rooted in artistic integrity and creative freedom. I admire its commitment to giving space to filmmakers who challenge norms and tell stories from the margins.
To be included in this community is an honor. It reminds me that cinema is still wild, still brave, and still capable of truth.
I am a woman who loves to create! I enjoy writing and soon filming subjects that give people food for thought, a new perspective and maybe a new way to view topics.
Do you remember the exact moment you fell in love with cinema?
Yes, I actually do. We were at my Aunt June’s house for my cousin’s birthday. After the party we settled in to watch The Wizard of Oz. I was mesmerized! Oh, that Wicked Witch and poor Dorothy and Toto with her friends, Lion, Scarecrow and Tinman off to see the Wizard.
Tell us about your project “The Enforcers”.
The Enforcers is about enforcers for loan sharks. Quiet and loyal, he does the loan shark’s bidding without question. Sometimes it just takes a nod of the head, and it is done. A woman who deals with a comatose son and his ever-rising medical costs goes to a loan shark she knows from her husband’s dealings with the shark. There are things happening behind the scenes she doesn’t know about and causes the situation to spiral out of control.
Which Director inspires you the most?
Hands down Alfred Hitchcock inspires me the most. I always looked forward to his movies and especially his tv show. I love to give my plots that Hitchcockian twist.
What do you dislike about the world and what would you change?
I dislike the obsession people have with their cellphones. Social etiquette and interaction have slowly fallen to the wayside. Many of the younger generation in general don’t have the necessary social skills and can’t seem to function without a cellphone in their hands. They have FOMO and need to constantly check social media and messages.
How do you imagine cinema in 100 years?
Looking back over the decades of how much cinema has changed is mind blowing. We started with black and white silent movies with little to no special effects to amazing films, series and effects like in Star Wars, The Matrix, Terminator, The Lord of the Rings and so on.
I see special effects and clarity of images/films continue to evolve. I don’t see AI becoming mainstream but rather a different niche in the market. I think the techies will continue to try to implement its usage and it will become their genre.
What is your impression of WILD FILMMAKER?
I love WILD FILMMAKER! They notice those that go beyond the ordinary and strive for excellence. I see WF continue to grow and become a household word much like Sundance and the Academy Awards. I will continue to participate with WF and cheer my fellow competitors to greatness.
David B. Williamson is an American screenwriter and psychological storyteller whose work explores trauma, identity, obsession, and emotional invisibility in the modern world. I grew up in an environment marked by instability and abuse. My father was violent, emotionally unpredictable, and deeply troubled. That trauma shaped my early understanding of the world—how silence can feel safer than truth, and how fear can live inside a home without ever being named. Years later, my father took his own life. That loss, and everything surrounding it, remains a defining undercurrent in my work. For a long time, I stepped away from filmmaking entirely to raise my family and survive emotionally. When I returned to writing, it wasn’t to chase industry trends —it was to make sense of experiences that don’t easily fit into neat narratives. My work now focuses on the unseen psychological systems that govern how people attach, dissociate, and search for connection. Cinema became the place where I could finally articulate what had been unspeakable.
Do you remember the moment you fell in love with cinema?
Cinema found me before I understood it. As a child, movies weren’t entertainment—they were shelter. In a household defined by volatility, film offered a space where emotion had structure and meaning. Even when stories were dark, they felt contained. They ended. They resolved in ways real life often did not. One of my earliest and most formative obsessions was Michael Jackson. I didn’t just love his music—I loved the worldaround it. What truly changed me wasn’t only the Thriller video itself, but the “Making of Thriller” VHS. I wore that tape out from watching it over and over again. I was fascinated not just by what I was seeing, but how it was made—how fear, performance, makeup, music, and storytelling combined to create something that felt both terrifying and beautiful. Thriller was directed by John Landis, who had also made An American Werewolf in London—a film that balanced horror, humor, and humanity in a way that felt electric to me, even as a child. That connection clicked instinctively. I realized that horror wasn’t just about monsters—it was about transformation, dread, and the fragile line between who we are and who we become. That was the moment cinema truly opened itself to me. Not as spectacle, but as craft. Watching the behind-the-scenes process taught me that fear could be designed thoughtfully, that emotion could be engineered with intention, and that storytelling was a language with rules you could learn—and then bend. Later, I understood that I wasn’t drawn to cinema because it was escapist, but because it was honest. Films allowed me to observe human behavior safely—to study fear, love, obsession, and survival from a distance. Horror, in particular, gave shape to emotions that were otherwise unnameable. Cinema didn’t save me—but it gave me language. And language is how healing begins.
Tell us about your project “Pretty Little Lucy”.
Pretty Little Lucy began as something deeply personal, but it quickly revealed itself to be something larger—a cautionary tale shaped by a cultural moment we’re still struggling to understand. The film is a psychological drama inspired by a real-life catfishing incident that unfolded over fifteen days and profoundly destabilized my sense of reality.
But rather than dramatizing the mechanics of the scam itself, the story focuses on the internal fallout—the emotional and psychological spiral that occurs when loneliness, unresolved trauma, and digital intimacy collide. At the time this was happening to me, I was also reading story after story about people who had been emotionally manipulated online—romance scams, long-term catfishing operations, and cases where victims were psychologically exploited to the point of financial ruin, public shame, or suicide. What struck me most was how often the aftermath was framed in terms of embarrassment rather than injury. There is a kind of emotional violence in these deceptions—an erosion of trust and selfhood—that rarely receives the language it deserves. In many ways, Pretty Little Lucy became my response to that pain. As a survivor of my father taking his own life, stories of people dying under the weight of shame and isolation are not abstract to me. They’re personal. Loss doesn’t stay contained to one event—it echoes. It reshapes how you recognize suffering in others. Watching victims of digital exploitation be dismissed, ridiculed, or reduced to cautionary headlines felt unbearably familiar. I knew what it meant for pain to go unseen until it was too late. The film explores how fantasy can become indistinguishable from truth when emotional needs go unmet—and how modern platforms and algorithms can quietly amplify vulnerability rather than protect against it. It asks uncomfortable questions about consent, emotional dependency, and what happens when someone finally feels seen in a world that has otherwise ignored them. What makes Pretty Little Lucy unusual is that it exists not only as a screenplay or future film, but as a documented transmedia phenomenon. The story gained visibility organically while it was still forming, becoming part of a real-time conversation about identity, deception, and psychological manipulation in the digital age. In a sense, the medium mirrored the message. At its core, the film isn’t about celebrity or scandal. It’s about the human cost of emotional isolation—and how devastating it can be when connection feels real, meaningful, and finally validating… only to collapse. Pretty Little Lucy doesn’t aim to shame victims or sensationalize deception. It’s an attempt to slow the conversation down long enough to replace judgment with understanding—and to remind us that behind every screen is a nervous system, a history, and a fragile need to be seen.
Which director inspires you the most?
David Fincher. Fincher’s work understands that dread doesn’t announce itself—it accumulates. His attention to detail, his patience with silence, and his trust in psychological tension rather than spectacle are rare. If Pretty Little Lucy were ever to be directed by someone else, Fincher would be my dream collaborator. His ability to translate internal collapse into visual language—to make obsession feel methodical rather than chaotic—is something I deeply admire and strive toward in my writing. Slow-burn dread is not easy to execute honestly. Fincher understands that the smallest moments often carry the most weight.
What do you dislike about the world, and what would you change?
I dislike how quickly pain is judged instead of understood. We live in a culture that demands explanations before offering empathy. Vulnerability is often misread as weakness—especially in digital spaces where nuance collapses and people are reduced to moments rather than contexts. Someone’s worst behavior becomes their entire identity, and the long chain of causes that led there is ignored. Over the years, I’ve been deeply affected by high-profile tragedies involving families who, from the outside, appeared successful, stable, even privileged—yet were quietly unraveling from within. In some cases, the violence didn’t come from strangers, but from children raised inside cycles of unaddressed trauma.
When those stories break, the public reaction is often outrage or disbelief, but rarely curiosity about how pain metastasizes when it goes untreated. That question has followed me into my own life and work. Working as a pharmacy technician, I’ve witnessed unnerving, intimate moments of human need—addiction stripped of metaphor. I’ve seen how dependency isn’t just chemical, but emotional and psychological. Many people aren’t chasing a high; they’re chasing relief from something unnamed. When personal needs go unmet long enough, they don’t disappear—they distort. Pain internalized over years often resurfaces as control, manipulation, or emotional numbness. In extreme cases, it can resemble sociopathy, not because someone was born monstrous, but because they were never taught how to process suffering safely. What troubles me most is how rarely we connect these dots. If I could change anything, it would be how we respond when someone admits they’re struggling—or when their behavior signals that they already are. I would slow the reflex to condemn and replace it with a willingness to listen longer than feels comfortable. This is why storytelling matters to me. Cinema, at its best, doesn’t excuse harm—but it contextualizes it. It allows us to sit inside discomfort long enough to understand cause and consequence without rushing to verdict. It creates space for empathy without erasing accountability. I believe film can slow the world down just enough to let compassion re-enter the conversation. And in a time when attention spans are shrinking and outrage travels faster than understanding, that slowdown might be one of the most radical acts we have left.
How do you imagine cinema in 100 years?
Cinema will become more interactive, more personal, and more psychologically intimate. Technology will evolve, but the need for emotional truth will remain constant. I believe future cinema will blur boundaries between audience and narrative—allowing viewers not just to watch stories, but to emotionally engage with them in more personalized ways. The films that endure will be those that understand human psychology deeply. No matter how advanced media becomes, stories that speak honestly to fear, longing, and identity will always find an audience.
What is your impression of WILD FILMMAKER?
WILD FILMMAKER represents something increasingly rare: space. It values voice over volume and intention over trend. In a media landscape driven by speed, WILD FILMMAKER allows cinema to breathe—to be examined thoughtfully rather than consumed quickly. That commitment to arthouse storytelling, emotional intelligence, and artistic risk is essential. It’s the kind of platform that understands cinema not as content, but as cultural memory.
At the heart of me, I really am an actor. I also write and direct but acting is my passion. I’ve always said that actors live in their own world. Actors get each other. As an actor, I have always been a sensitive, passionate person. Even as a kid, I felt things very deeply. I would watch a film and then lock myself in my room and act out all the parts with my action figures.
–Do you remember the exact moment you fell in love with cinema?
Yes. I was a little boy and I had seen both “Jaws” and “Jaws 2” on the big screen. I was completely mesmerized by every shot, every action and character. I remember the opening where Susan Backlinie who played the beautiful blonde Chrissie, decides to take the plunge and go for a midnight swim. Everything about this scene was movie magic to me – the photography, the lighting, the way she treads water completely unaware of the danger she is in. And then she is taken by an unseen shark. Wow, what a way to start a movie.
–Tell us about your project “Tightly Bound”.
This is a very intense film about domestic abuse that involves a husband and wife. I grew up playing a lot of all American good guys in independent films and theater. This was very different. I knew that my character was the antagonist (villain) but I didn’t want him to be one dimensional. So, I added layers to make sure you could see the cracks in his armor. Even with the most deplorable people, you can find a human being somewhere inside them. This was an exhausting shoot where I had no voice left at the end. With the intensity of my character, I managed to throw my back out. That being said, I was proud of my performance since I gave it my all and a shout out to my director, Joey Marino who sets up a great environment for actors to work in.
–Which Director inspires you the most?
There are several who inspire me. Robert Redford is one. I thought Ordinary People was a masterpiece. That was the first time I think I cried in the middle of a film. It was way ahead of its time and one of the first to talk about family dysfunction. Timothy Hutton and Mary Tyler Moore in particular, gave amazing performances. Even though at times you don’t like her character, it’s in her private moments that you see she is riddled with pain and is a victim herself.
George Lucas’s American Graffiti is a great piece of cinema. It’s almost like watching a documentary on a specific time in America that doesn’t exist anymore. It is the last moment of innocence. It also launched some of the biggest names in Hollywood e.g. Ron Howard, Cindy Williams, Richard Dreyfus, Harrison Ford.
Lastly, John Carpenter had a big impact on me. Halloween, (1978) really set the bar especially since it was an independent film. The music is iconic and the simplicity of the way the story was told – two girls babysitting (Jamie Lee Curtis and Nancy Loomis) across the street from each other encounter evil. Carpenter’s use of creepy blue lighting and the mood is so effective that you always worry that the girls are in danger. Setting the film in small town suburbia was very smart.
–What do you dislike about the world and what would you change?
The threat of war and the lack of empathy and civility will destroy us all. We’re going backwards. We’re picking the bullies over the victims. I think as artists, it’s our job to provide commentary on today’s society and how we can change things.
-How do you imagine cinema in 100 years?
What I would hope for is that we go back to great storytelling. One thing that scares me is the rise of AI and CGI. If you notice, I tip my hat to films from the “70’s” which was a great decade in filmmaking. I think there’s a certain symmetry with independent films and these films. Often times today, I feel like I’m watching a video game which dilutes the characters and storyline. Where was the creative collective energy going? I hope we get back to that.
-What is your impression of WILD FILMMAKER?
I am beyond grateful for this opportunity. You are giving voice and a spotlight on a lot of artists and independent filmmakers that people might never know about. Your efforts may well save the future of cinema.
