THE SUICIDE TAPES

A few years ago, my friend Jacky died of an accidental overdose at age 35. I had never lost anyone so close before. Reading his obituary, it was unsettling and downright strange to see that my friend had a list of survivors. Then it struck me, that I, too, was a survivor. I had survived, and he hadn’t.

I was moved by the idea of death at a young age. I used to have mortality fits in my twenties – waking up in the middle of the night in cold sweats, certain I was about to die. But the reality of my friend dying was different for me; it wasn’t a made-up future projected in my head, it was the actual event. And it changed me.

The Suicide Tapes is not necessarily about my friend, but it is about the possibilities of death. How scared should we be? What are the possibilities of heaven and hell? Where does memory come in? Is memory connected to our soul? And when does it become dangerous for us to remember?

I thought these ideas had the makings of a psychological horror film. I started writing The Suicide Tapes, translating these ideas and my personal experience into an emotional, tense ride for an audience.

The result is a dark, powerful, mind-bending picture that might just scare the living daylights out of you. After watching this short film, I hope you’ll walk away thinking, “I survived, and I’m glad I’m alive.”