Director Dylan Mars Greenberg on Queering Horror and Making Your Film No Matter What
Dylan Mars Greenberg is a queer, trans filmmaker, video artist, musician, and performer from New York City. Multifaceted and almost entirely self-taught, she has been behind and in front of the camera since childhood, and makes music videos professionally. An absurdist with affinities for camp and horror, Greenberg has directed six feature films, going on seven. Her work has been featured in Vice, PAPER, New York Times, and more. Ever-prolific, her latest short films are “The Bathtub” and “The Puppeteer’s Assistant.”
TLL’s Sophie Prettyman-Beauchamp spoke with Greenberg about developing her signature aesthetics, making films on the fly, and bringing her dreams to the screen with little to no budget.
On Starting Out:
When and how did you find filmmaking as a medium?
I would arguably say when I was about five, ‘cause my mom won a VHS C camera, which were smaller tapes that you could put in an adapter to put in a VCR, at a teacher's raffle. I used it until I literally just broke it to pieces with my bare hands. ‘Cause I like, loved it so much.
How did being a child actor impact your passion for horror?
I was mostly in indie stuff, but my one kind-of notable thing is that I played the serial killer Henry Lee Lucas as a child on national television when I was six or seven. That was the first time I was exposed to fake blood...a horror-type thing, like head-on. I got stabbed in the eye in that, ‘cause the real serial killer got stabbed in the eye as a child; we had a retractable knife and then they poured fake blood all over me. I think that, in turn, inspired me to make my own stuff.
What else inspired you growing up?
I've always been really into music videos, and I think I really have always liked films that are kind of like music videos. When I was a kid, I was super, super into Pop-Up Video on cable. I was glued to the screen whenever it came on. And I think that was the first time I saw ‘Take On Me’ by A-ha, and that blew my mind.
What other childhood experiences shaped your trajectory as a filmmaker?
My mom had a digital camera that was for photos, but it could take maybe a minute of video per shot, so I started making movies on that. I figured out how to upload it to my dad's computer and edited in Windows MovieMaker. I think that's a thing a lot of kids do. I think the difference is that I never, ever stopped. No matter what, I was just always, always, always, always making a video. I could never put it down.
I got in [to NYFA’s youth filmmaking program] a year early; the earliest program you could go to was the tweens program, which was 10 and up. I was nine and I made this pretty ridiculous, clunky short film; Iwas trying to emulate David Lynch, and I was copying Eraserhead. It was a great weekend class-thing to do. It was the first time I got to be around other kids that really liked film, you know? That was definitely sort of a haven for me. And I think New York Film Academy is great to learn the rules, but I also, as a teenager, wanted to break the rules, and it costs a lot of money. So I think at a certain point I was like, ‘okay, I want to go out and I want to just try doing things my own way.’ So then I kind of started just doing stuff on my own. But they're great. I can't say enough good stuff about them. It was great getting to do that when I was a little kid.
On Her Professional Journey:
When and how did you enter the film industry professionally?
Around the time I was 12, my dad was like, ‘Alright, this seems like you're taking [film] pretty seriously.’ He worked for a news company and found a spare disk for Final Cut Pro, and brought it home and installed it on the computer. And then I taught myself how to use Final Cut Pro. I would say it took me a while to really learn how to use it really well. But by the time I was 17, 18, I was actually editing on a professional level, and I got hired to work at Troma Entertainment when I was still in high school, and I became one of their youngest full-time employees.
After collecting so much inspiration and skill in your craft, what was your transition from creating short films to making features like?
When I was around 15 or 16, I started doing performance art. I started hanging out with these people called The Art Stars. There were a lot of people from the 90s who were really big in this very out-there, sort of anti-art scene, where it was deliberately like a parody of the normal Manhattan art scene. And performance art seemed like doing things that were like, the most uncool, and the most ridiculous. [The Art Stars] also would make films, and I started thinking outside the box with that, and started making films that I felt were more like performance art than just standard short films. Before that, I was really only making like three-minute things, and I started making 20-minute shorts because I started thinking, ‘What can I do with more long-form stuff?’ And then by the time I was 17, I made this very abstract, feature-length video art piece called Glamarus. And then once I made a feature, I just kept making features.
Your best-known work is your third feature, Dark Prism. How did the release of that film impact your career?
Basically I posted the trailer at like 8:00 PM, I went to sleep, I woke up, and then suddenly it was in Vice and Stereogum and Rolling Stone and Spin and NME and AV Club, in like a day. And I’d just turned 18. It's not like I was even 18 for a while. So it was definitely kind of a shock, and I got kind of anxious. A lot of people saw at least the trailer for something that was very outside-the-box, all at once. It was a very polarizing film, ‘cause it was very low-budget. I had no money when I made it; really, like nothing. It was all borrowed locations and people who were willing to volunteer. I think at one point, one of the actors had to get me the plastic plates that I used to actually make the dark prism. I think I had like $2 in quarters and it was like $3, and they had to help me out with that. So yeah, it was incredible that something that small grew to, maybe not major, but minor cult status, and people from all over the world were interested in it.
Once it screened in the Canary Islands; we released it on my website with Spanish subtitles. Some people from Mexico also were messaging me with these little videos they had made of clips from the movie. I was really surprised it had even gotten that far, you know? That was pretty remarkable, that it connected with so many people. And I do think there was a certain charm to the fact that it was obviously so low-budget. Like, it was clearly made completely DIY. I think that some people were like, ‘This movie is cheap, I don't get why it looks like this, this looks awful.’ And then there were a lot of people who were like, ‘No, I get this, and it looks homemade in a way that I find very inspiring or charming, and it's the kind of movie that I like to see.’ So I feel confident that even if it's not the kind of movie that everyone wants to see, it was the kind of movie that I'd like to see, because it's very DIY, and very strange. I think that it provided people with an interesting experience.
What’s your professional life as a creator actually like?
I’ve made music videos for a living since I was about 18, and when I was 20, I was able to [start to] do that full-time. There's other stuff I do on the side; I also manage social media. Sometimes if I'm lucky enough, I get some acting work or just extra work, commercials or something. But when you're doing paid work for someone, obviously you have to listen to what they say, and if they want it a certain way, you can't be like, ‘well no, look, it's mine.’ You have to be able to compromise.
On Her Workflow:
You started your career as a director very early on in your life. What was your process like with your earlier work?
When I first started making stuff that was really getting my mind going, I would not have a script, I would maybe just have a vague concept. Sometimes, I would come up with the concept that day. I would grab a few friends together and sometimes it would be like, we'd start in Union Square after school on a Friday or something. And then we’d go from Union Square and walk to the Lower East side, and walk over the Williamsburg bridge into Williamsburg, and make the whole movie as we went, and just piece it together. We were all coming up with a story. It didn't really feel like there were any limitations or rules.
I think everyone should try [it], even people who are making big films right now. I think everyone should try and make like a 10- or 20-minute thing, just in a day, just come up with crazy ideas and try and come up with an improvised story, and just use what's around you.
And what would you say your process is like now?
The average is kind of different for everything. I'm making a lot of music videos right now, and some are more precise than others. I think it depends on what people want. I've been really lucky in that some people have come to me and been like, ‘We love your work, we've seen your movies, do something like that, just make something that's just truly out there and crazy.’
I really try to keep [the process] organized, which is not always how I am. In fact, I think that's a big criticism of me, sometimes, that I’m not always organized. I was like, ‘I really have to buckle down and keep the same crazy style that I love.’ I love to use fisheye lenses, and I started to do a lot of really zany stuff, but still keep it in an organized way. I think I need people to kind of help me get my mind in the right place, because sometimes I'm a little bit all over the place. I think that's just kind of my personality.
What’s it like working within a more structured framework?
It's really fun sometimes. When I made my Adult Swim short [“The Puppeteer’s Assistant’], I think that might be the most organized thing I've ever made. ‘Cause Adult Swim was like, ‘We want you to make a two-minute, 30 second short.’ And I was like, I'm going to try and make the best two-minutes, 30 seconds I've ever made.
I got my friend Adam and paid him, and paid my friend Phil, and my friend Hannah actually agreed to do it with me as a collaboration and basically became the producer. And we were like, ‘Alright, we're both going to have control of this and make it our project.’ And my partner, Hex Glitter Macabre, actually styled the puppets. We had sketches of the puppets and the people, and we created a consistent aesthetic with the puppets and the people. So they all actually look the same, even though some are CGI animated by Hannah Schilsky, and some people are real, live action, and their physical makeup was done by Hex. It was honestly the first time I really storyboarded something out, because it was absolutely necessary, because there was animation and live action… it has to get us all on literally the same page.
How do you think you’ll approach projects in the future?
I think for my next big project, I want to make it very streamlined. Have a real proper crew, which I'm starting to adopt now, finally. I've been a little slow to become a collaborator, but I think I'm realizing the importance of it more and more as I get older. But I think always, in my heart, I'm going to love doing DIY, crazy stuff with no script and just going for it, and just what happens, happens, you know?
On Creating Her Vision:
What creative decisions are you making to define your vision?
I think I've always liked things to look kind of fake. A big goal of mine is to be able to shoot a movie entirely on sets that are German expressionistic and super colorful. I sort of got to achieve that goal; I made a short film that came out recently called “The Bathtub.” So that, in a way, was the first time we were shooting on sets that I actually got to design and build, but obviously we weren't physically on them. We shot it all in a green screen studio in two days, and then the construction of the miniatures and the shooting, then tracking the actors into the miniatures, and cleaning up the chroma key so it looked believable. That was a nearly three-year process from start to finish.
What is the function of artifice within your work?
I like the idea of making things look artificial, but not having it be like it's deliberately fake, if that makes sense. I want the viewer to believe that the characters are really within this world, the world is just different from their own. And it kind of looks more like a dollhouse, or it can look lopsided or slanted. I like that it takes people not even necessarily out of their comfort zone, but out of what they perceive as ordinary, or challenges what you view as reality because I like having things where the principles of the world I've designed are accepted by the characters as normal. I very much like the idea of different worlds and dream worlds. A lot of my ideas come from dreams, and I really like at least the good dreams I have.
What do horror and parody mean to you as a queer, trans genre filmmaker?
I think horror and camp go hand-in-hand, and I think that there is a great wealth of visual inspiration to be found in camp. I think a lot of queer people are drawn to camp because it’s kind of a showcase for all of the things that are deemed undesirable by normal society. Tackiness and camp and garishness. Some “normal people” would almost consider those things to be as off-putting as the behavior of a very openly gay person. So I think a lot of gay people find salvation in camp and in garish aesthetics, and I'm sure a lot of gay people are also drawn to that because it's shocking. For a very long time, and still, people are shocked when they see someone who's being unapologetically gay. I feel like a lot of people say things like, ‘Well, I can accept gay people if they don't shove it in my face.’ And their idea of shoving it in their face is basically anything that is very garish or camp, or something that they personally don't want to see. So I've always been very into, you know, ‘What is the most dramatic-looking thing that you can construct?’. I always try to own the fact that some people are unsettled by me, because that is just part of my existence—I have to accept that there are some people who are just opposed to me, no matter what I do, and that is just part of life. And I think that's also very much part of my art.
What creative trends or movements have you noticed gaining more attention?
When I first started using the term maximalist, I was a teenager. And now I'm noticing a lot of Generation Z kids who like art, they're using the term maximalist, too; finding things from their childhood that inspire them, like the I Spy books and stuff, and posting them on their Tumblrs or their Tik Toks, or whatever the kids are doing now. And that's really thrilling to see, that maximalism is catching on. I think it's becoming hip again, and that's so cool to see, because I think that maximalism is sort of a rejection of the reigning minimalist aesthetic of modern art that's been so ever-present. I think it's time for a change, you know?
How do you look back at your earlier work?
I'm still very proud of Dark Prism, even though it's still very rough around the edges. I think if there's things I could go back and do again, it would be the sound, and I still hadn't fully mastered ISO balance. I actually didn't even have any lights of my own back then. There are scenes that are very dark, or scenes that are under-lit and grainy. But what I'm very proud of in that movie is that I told the story my way, and it was the first time I really felt like [it was] my story that's coming right from my head, onto the screen. I like the idea of things being cyclical: the end being the beginning again, [but] it's not really the end, it's the beginning; or it's not really the beginning, it's actually the end. I'm still really proud of having told the story that way.
I think I've gotten pretty inventive with stuff, just some of the little signature techniques I've come up with over the years. I had this technique where I would hang stuff from the ceiling, like branches or just props and things that I would push through them. And I created what I felt was kind of a signature aesthetic for me, especially for a lot of music videos I made at the time. I made a video for James Canton and The Contortions, and we hung real vines from the ceiling. I actually built that set in my parents' house.
What are you most proud of?
I'm proud of translating what I love most about wackadoo performance art into film, and taking performers or just live or interesting things that I admire and putting them into film. Taking music I like and getting to put it into film, or finding ways to represent a different sense, trying to represent something that I feel like is impossible, visually.
“The Bathtub,” which recently came out, that's based entirely on a dream I had, start to finish. And when I first came up with it, I was like, ‘There's no way I'll ever be able to make this, I don't know how I could realistically create this and actually make it like it was inside my head.’ It took a long time, but we were able to take the dream that I had and actually put it on a screen so other people could see it. There’s no words for how incredible that feels, to actually be able to share your dreams with someone. I can just send someone a link and go ‘Here, look at this dream I had,’ you can actually see and hear it. And if you're lucky, it'll make you have a dream of your own, that'll inspire you to make something. That's all I can hope. Think about how you could do it on a smaller budget, with maybe a way where it could be campier or stranger. I think there's ways of bending the reality, and you're still getting it out there.
On DIY/Low-Budget Filmmaking:
What is some advice that you would give to other filmmakers who are also trying to make their feature on a tight budget?
I recommend working on a micro-budget to everyone. I think that everyone should, once in their lives, try and make a movie with as little resources as possible, because I think it's a very humbling experience. Definitely one that has given me a lot of know-how when I do get some resources.
My new feature [Spirit Riser], together between people who invested, donated, and my money, it's about $10,000. To me, that's a lot of money, but any film journalist would call that micro-budget. To me, micro-budget is like, $100 to $1,000. My first movie, I would say, cost zero. That was below micro-budget; that was nothing-budget. But yeah, I think it's a great experience, and it gives you so much freedom.
What obstacles are in the way for independent creators?
There's problems with the film industry now that didn't exist years ago, because there's an oversaturation. I think independent films are very devalued by big corporations. Now, it's unfortunately less likely your micro-budget film is going to get distribution from a bigger company.
But having said that, the tools to make your film are all there. I think there are a lot of people who unfortunately come from the school of thought (because they're told this) of, ‘Oh, don't bother making a movie if you don't have a budget of even $100,000, $200,000.’ I think a lot of people think if it's anything below that, that's just undoable, but that's just not true. Obviously there's some people who just do not have access to anything, and I can't blame people for that. But I think there are a lot of people that have a camera, they have a computer, or they have a phone, and if you have a phone with an editing system, you could potentially make an entire feature film, start to finish.
What should rising filmmakers keep in mind while creating on a budget?
You have to get creative with it, and sometimes that means literally digging for props out of the trash, or having to fake the most basic things; like you don't have a car, so you have to make a steering wheel out of a Frisbee and just pretend like you're driving. You have to really stretch your imagination to figure out, ‘how do I portray what's in my head?’
I think another big thing is don't get necessarily married to your script. Things change, especially when you’re really low-budget; you can't always get exactly what's in your head. You sometimes have to compromise or do things a little differently, or adapt to just make it happen. And don't worry about it being perfect. Your first piece of art is never going to be perfect, your first-ever thing definitely doesn't need to be perfect. I think it's more important to get it out there and just see what you can do, than waiting for perfection, because perfection is an unrealistic ideal. There's a lot of beauty in imperfection, and I think it's time we embrace that.
On Her Latest Projects:
How has COVID shifted your workflow?
I'm still doing music videos and stuff for people, outside or in an environment where it's safe. I have a temperature gun, myself and my crew wear masks. Anyone who would be unmasked are just the people who would be performing. I shot [“The Puppeteer’s Assistant”] in the pandemic and we had both actors there at the same time, but there's actually a shot where they were supposed to lean in and towards each other. To minimize the amount of risk, I had them both on green screen and one person leans in and then the other person was filmed separately, and then I composited those together.
What film projects are you working on?
Well, [my upcoming feature Spirit Riser is] not out yet. I had a cut of it where it's very long, so right now the plan is to have basically two films, like a feature and then a shorter, companion film that goes with it. So right now I'm working on figuring out what goes where, and we're working on mixing the sound. But it's all there, we finally have all the scenes edited and strung together. Now it's a matter of using a process of elimination [of what] is going to go into the companion film, this goes into the feature. [The companion short film] is like a puzzle piece that people can use to kind of put together clues. It's going to be like a scavenger hunt.
You're definitely gonna see a lot of music videos I've directed for other artists, which I'm proud of. It kind of guarantees I always have this output. There’s always stuff I've directed coming out.
Can you share more about your relationship to music as a filmmaker?
I've always thought of things very visually, like music has always almost felt like a visual medium to me in a lot of ways. I think my music sort of picked up some speed along with my film stuff, they've started to mesh together a little more and with my solo stuff and with my band [Theophobia]. I usually direct all of our music videos. I always like to be very visually in-control. I hand-animate a lot of projections that show behind us [during our performances]. It's almost like you're watching a live music video.
Short term, where do you see your work going next?
I definitely want to go back to my roots after [Spirit Riser] and do maybe like a 30, 40-minute thing where I can just be nutty and lo-fi. And then in 2022 or so, I'm going to try and make another feature with an even bigger budget and try crowdfunding or get investors. I think I need some time to experiment soon, once I'm able to, with just something that I have full control over.z