Jarrod R.F. Hachey
2021Golgotha
Jarrod R.F. Hachey
Gavin Downes, Abigail Smith
Late summer; a newly pregnant couple escape daily regiment and monotony on a celebratory camping trip. Biblical encounters and self doubt churn beneath the surface. A thousand broken branches and the rotting leaves attempt to tell the story of the child's fate before the two can reach their own resolve.
Golgotha
Everyone is Disposable. Everyone!
Jarrod R.F. Hachey
Hack filmmaker Jarrod R.F. Hachey sits alone behind a locked door in a two star hotel. Committed to finishing the bulk of his Rainer Werner Fassbinder biopic, surrenders himself to re-living the last days of the German giant.
Everyone is Disposable. Everyone!
Thus Passes The Glory
Jarrod R.F. Hachey
As the newly chosen pope proceeded from the sacristy of St. Peter's Basilica in his sedia gestatoria, the procession stopped three times. On each occasion a papal master of ceremonies would fall to his knees before the pope, holding a silver or brass reed, bearing a tow of smoldering flax. For three times in succession, as the cloth burned away, he would say in a loud and mournful voice, 'Pater Sancte, sic transit gloria mundi!'
Thus Passes The Glory
The Soviet
Jarrod R.F. Hachey
Gavin Downes, Kelly Morrell
An industrial city with a dead and dying population; smog and tungsten light an historical apartment; wherein Amos, a failing filmmaker fucks and fights with his common law girlfriend Val about rejection letters and Pete Seeger; Blackout curtains pinned to the windows hide our reflections; Amos brother Andrew reads a screenplay; the director bears witness to a world whole in sickness and in health; a body of work defined by the presence of no body whatsoever; the director sees a band but misses the point; trapped in mise-en-scene; the past and or the present or no history at all make communion with an affirming or a condemning moment of action; a hotspot beach for murders; the edge of a bridge in the morning sunrise where the water wrestles itself; a ferry docks in the distance; Where have all the flowers gone?
The Soviet