I came up with the idea for Home around the same time as Viral, maybe even earlier. Back then, it felt pretty ambitious for me and our small crew. I wanted to keep the filming grounded but apply some suspense with editing, pacing and practical camera tricks. The hardest part was walking that line between drama and spectacle. I didn’t want one to overshadow the other, and I definitely didn’t want it to feel corny.

This was also the point where I really started paying attention to how much impact a simple choice—moving the camera or keeping it still—can have on a scene. When I watch a great movie, I rarely notice the camera work because it’s apart of the story, it’s guiding you without being present. That’s what I was chasing: natural, intentional moves that hopefully didn’t feel forced.

We ran into plenty of technical issues—nothing anyone could have avoided, just part of stepping out of our comfort zone. It was our first time shooting outdoors, both during the day and at night. We had no clue what was going to happen. Would the cops stop us? Would the sound get wrecked because we can’t stop traffic and we’re filming on a freeway overpass? Any one thing could have completely stopped us in our tracks, but by the grace of the movie gods, nothing happened. We filmed around my neighborhood again, which worked out since people here know I make shorts and usually leave me alone. I scouted spots that looked visually interesting, not just usable. We were running and gunning with a Sirui anamorphic lens, pulling focus by hand. Honestly, we had no business doing what we were doing, I think you need a certain level of ignorance to what your limits possibly could be. If you don’t know the risks or fear of attempting something, and if you go for it, sometimes it works. Roger, our DP, went through focus-pulling hell on this one. We weren’t unprepared, we knew our equipment, but things change fast when you’re shooting—you either adapt and pivot hard or fight it the whole way.

For me, the fun part is always the discovery—those little happy accidents that end up shaping the movie. There are so many times where the actors would provide a piece of performance that only happened once, and I couldn’t catch those small nuances in their performance because we didn’t have a monitor, and we rarely had playback. If you’ve ever done this before, you know how rare those moments are so when they happen, it’s nothing short of a gift. I’m not someone who clings to the script word-for-word. Most of my ideas don’t hit but I keep throwing it out there. You have to sort through the mess to find that one or two pretty good ideas that you could possibly shape and mold into something worth the time. At the end of the day, I’d rather make a choice, whether it be right or wrong than get stuck being indecisive.

The cast made the film what it is. Their professionalism and energy carried us through, and I’ll always be thankful they trusted me enough to take those risks and big swings. We shot over four days across two weekends, and some days it was literally just me, Roger, Daniel (our 1st AC), and Theresa, our lead actress.

Home was hands down the hardest project we’d taken on at that point. Could it have been “better”? I don’t think so. It happened the way it was supposed to. We threw everything we knew at the time into that film, and the result reflects that—flaws and all. To me, each project is a time capsule of our knowledge in that moment. Have we grown since then, absolutely, will it show in our next project? we’ll see. What we managed to pull off honestly feels like a miracle. I’m grateful for everything I learned and for everyone who was part of it. When the right people come together and things click, you end up with something special. To me, even at our micro level, that’s the magic of movie making.