Julian Glander is no stranger to crafting distinct, offbeat worlds. The 3D artist and animator, known for his work with Adult Swim, HBO Max, and Cartoon Network, has long been drawn to the intersection of the mundane and the surreal. His latest film, Boys Go to Jupiter, is a dreamy, animated coming-of-age story set in suburban Florida, following a teenager’s desperate attempt to scrape together $5,000 only for his life to spiral into something much stranger. A Story Rooted in Orange Juice The film’s origins are surprisingly grounded. Glander recalls, “One specific inspiration was a New York Times article about Natalie’s Orange Juice, a boutique, high-end orange juice brand in America. The article focused on how the founder named the company after her daughter, Natalie, and was struggling to pass the business on to her. That ended up becoming a small part of the movie, but the idea of the dramatic inner workings of an orange juice company struck me. Being from Florida, where oranges are everywhere, I thought it was an interesting starting point for a story.” But from that initial spark, the film took on a life of its own. “I think it happens on accident at some point it just gets out of my control,” Glander says. “In the writing process, early on, I was just throwing up index cards, building from that core kernel of the story, and asking, ‘What would be interesting here?’ I started writing about a delivery boy, and then he took over, and suddenly it became his movie.” That organic approach extended to casting. “Joe Pera, for example, has a small role, but it was completely written around his persona. A lot of the movie came together in that way.” A Relatable Nightmare Though Boys Go to Jupiter leans into its oddball aesthetic, its portrayal of modern labour is sharply relevant. Billy 5000’s struggles as a delivery driver tap into a deeper commentary on the gig economy’s false promises. “As a freelance illustrator and animator, my work isn’t exactly the same as a delivery driver’s, but there’s a shared experience—getting an email at 11:45 p.m. saying, ‘Hey, I’ve got the assignment of a lifetime,’ and suddenly you’re chugging energy drinks, staying up all night,” Glander explains. “In the early 2010s, there was this excitement around the gig economy—‘I’ll be my own boss, set my own hours’—but over the past decade, that’s really soured. We’ve all seen just how miserable this work can be, and now it’s too late to change the system.” This theme resonated deeply with the film’s lead, Jack, who plays Billy. “The best moment for me was when I sent the script to Jack, and he immediately responded, saying he had worked as an Uber Eats driver in college. He brought so much of that experience to the role, and we even rewrote parts of the script based on his stories.” Surreal Suburbs, and a Balancing Act Visually, Boys Go to Jupiter exists in a universe that feels at once hyperreal and dreamlike. Glander describes his influences: “Texture is really important to me. Looking at my favourite movies, they tend to have this suburban surrealism—films like Napoleon Dynamite, Ghost World, Edward Scissorhands—where it’s the suburbs, but slightly different. A little warmer, a little more magical.” Finding the right balance between visuals and tone was a challenge. “The colours and shapes are so in-your-face that the voice acting had to be grounded, subtle, and deadpan to counteract it. The music sometimes takes the lead, then recedes, and the same goes for the performances. It was a constant juggling act. But really, the cast made it work—if this movie resonates with people, it’s because of them.” The Weird, Surreal Magic of Florida Florida serves as more than just a setting—it’s an essential part of Boys Go to Jupiter’s DNA. Glander describes his fascination with his home state: “Florida is the most American place, it’s how America sees Florida, and how the rest of the world sees America. It’s new—people started moving there en masse in the 1950s, building Disney World, mini-golf courses, and amusement parks. It was all about vacation and escapism. But now, decades later, there’s this stagnation, a kind of dark magic to it. I find it fascinating.” The Making of Boys Go to Jupiter The film’s production was as whirlwind as its narrative. “I started jotting down ideas in my notes app before the pandemic, so the script took about four years to develop. We recorded in the summer of 2023, and it premiered at Tribeca about a year later. The animation was done at an almost psychotic speed!” Despite the tight schedule, the casting process came together swiftly. “In the moment, it felt difficult, but looking back, it happened so fast! We reached out to Sarah Sherman and asked if she could come in the next week, and she just did it. Everyone was such a pro. The strike helped in a weird way—it gave us a sense of urgency. Otherwise, we could still be recording this movie!” Odd, Timely, and Deeply Personal At first glance, Boys Go to Jupiter might seem like a quirky animated odyssey, but beneath its colourful, surreal veneer lies a deeply human story about labour, ambition, and the disorienting journey to adulthood. For Glander, it’s a film that grew in unexpected ways, shaped by personal experiences, collaborations, and a keen awareness of the strange world we live in. “If this movie resonates with people,” he says, “it’s because of the cast. They made it work.” And in the end, Boys Go to Jupiter might just capture something essential—both about the absurdity of modern work and the strange, magical pull of places like Florida, where the ordinary and the surreal blend in ways no one can quite predict. - Lee Hutchison Boys Go To Jupiter will screen at the Glasgow Film Festival on Tuesday March 4th at 8:45pm and Wednesday March 5th at 4:00pm www.glasgowfilm.org/movie/boys-go-to-jupiter/
In Dreams, the latest entry in Dag Johan Haugerud’s trilogy of stand-alone films about love and desire, the acclaimed writer-director explores the emotional intensity of first love. The film follows Johanne, a 17-year-old who becomes infatuated with her French teacher, Johanna. Her written reflections on the relationship that she is being encouraged to turn into a book blur the lines between personal experience and fiction, forcing those around her and the audience to question what is real. Haugerud, known for his insight into human relationships, spoke to us about his creative process, the film’s visual language, and his broader approach to storytelling.
From the Personal to the Universal When asked about the Johanne’s experience between writing deeply personal narratives and considering commercial appeal and if he related as an artist, Haugerud is clear: personal connection comes first. “I didn't think so much about that,” he says. “You always have to begin with yourself. I always do that. I have to connect with the characters… I think I am a part of all of them. And I think that’s important to try to get it to play but it must be quite open to allow actors to put something in themselves as well. ” This deep personal engagement allows him to craft authentic and layered characters, but Haugerud also leaves space for his actors to bring their own experiences to the role. Capturing a Teenager’s Perspective Given the film’s focus on a young woman’s awakening, when asked how he approached writing a 17-year-old girl’s experience, he points out the universality of first love. “I haven’t been a 16-year-old girl. But I have been 16,” he says. “And I don’t think there’s that much difference, really. The experience of first love is universal—you recognise those feelings that are all-consuming.” For Haugerud, character differences are less about gender and more about individual personality. “Even if they share similarities, there are differences between them. But I don’t think that has so much to do with gender.” Dreams and Memory One of Dreams’ most striking qualities is its dreamlike cinematography, achieved through Haugerud’s collaboration with cinematographer Cecilie Semec. The warm, golden lighting in scenes between Johanne and Johanna evokes a sense of nostalgia and emotional intensity. “We discussed that a lot,” Haugerud says. “We had to find some kind of visual space for them—something that felt real but also reflected Johanne’s perspective.” To achieve this, they used Cooke lenses with a subtle yellow tint and soft filters. “To me, that can be a bit too cheesy, but it was important to create that dreamlike space, almost like a story unfolding in real life.” This perspective-driven approach also challenges the audience: are they watching what actually happened or Johanne’s idealised version of events? “It’s also about how we form images of love and sexuality,” Haugerud adds. “Romantic and even pornographic imagery often has that soft focus. At one point, she talks about bubblegum and boyband skin—these soft things she associates with love and sexuality.” A Muse With a story so deeply centered on a writers intense infatuation, one wonders if Haugerud himself had a similiar formative experience. However, he dismisses the idea of a singular muse "No, i wouldn't say that," he reflects. "I read a lot when i was child - children's books, but also more serious works. I've been always been inspired by what i read, and I still am. When I start writing a screenplay, it almost always begins with reading - reading a lot - and then finding thoughts that could translate into a script." Symbol of Desire One recurring motif in Dreams is the use of stunning Norwegian staircases—both indoors and outdoors. Haugerud reveals that this choice was both symbolic and practical. “In dream theory, stairs are often connected to sexual dreams and desires. That might be a bit obvious,” he admits. “But it started when I found the location— a long, winding stairway in Oslo. I’ve walked past it for years, thinking it should be used in a film. So I wrote scenes specifically for that space.” A Trilogy’s Evolution Dreams is part of a thematic trilogy exploring love and desire, alongside Sex and Love. Haugerud explains that the idea of exploring a subject from multiple angles was key to its conception. “I’ve always been a writer first. Making films was never my main goal,” he admits. “If I was going to do it, I wanted it to be something different— not just a conventional feature film. I liked the idea of exploring a theme across multiple films, seeing it from different perspectives, and working with different actors.” Norwegian Openness Haugerud’s trilogy is marked by frank discussions of intimacy, something that might seem culturally specific. When asked whether Norwegian audiences are more open to such conversations, he notes a contrast between different communities. “In Sweden, audiences didn’t react to the dialogue at all; they saw it as normal. But it differs across social environments. Oslo is more open-minded compared to smaller communities.” From Librarian to Filmmaker Unlike many novelists-turned-filmmakers, Haugerud didn’t initially set out to direct. His journey into filmmaking was, in some ways, accidental. “I studied film at university but never planned on making films myself,” he says. “It was my producer—an old friend—who pushed me into it. He saw my potential early on and encouraged me to pursue it.” His career as a writer was also slow to start. “I started writing short stories, and I couldn't get them published. I tried a lot of times. And then after a while, I thought, okay, maybe this isn't going anywhere. So I pursued another education.” That education was in library science, and Haugerud worked as a music librarian for many years. “While studying to become a librarian, I wrote my first novel. And that felt quite easy at the time because it wasn’t so important. That gave me a light touch, maybe—the feeling that it was possible for it to be published.” What’s Next? With Dreams completing his trilogy, the inevitable question remains: what’s next? Will he turn to a quadrilogy next, or shift gears entirely? “I don’t know yet,” he says. “I will try to come up with an idea that challenges me—something different. That’s my drive in different projects— to try to find a new idea. If it’s possible, I don’t know. But I am thinking about it.” Dreams will screen at the Glasgow Film Festival on Saturday March 8th at 8:40pm and Sunday March 9th at 12:45pm with Love screening on Friday March 7th at 5:45pm and Saturday March 8th at 6:15pm. www.glasgowfilm.org/movie/dreams & www.glasgowfilm.org/movie/love The opening night of the 2025 Glasgow Film Festival experienced the world premiere of Scotland's John Maclean’s highly anticipated second feature, Tornado. The film, a unique blend of British historical drama and samurai-inspired action, captivated audiences with its striking cinematography, gripping performances, and a genre-bending narrative. Against the backdrop of 1790s Britain, the film follows Tornado, a young Japanese woman who travels the country with her father’s samurai puppet show. When she seizes an opportunity to steal gold from a ruthless gang led by Sugarman (Tim Roth) and his son, Little Sugar (Jack Lowden), a desperate escape ensues, setting off a violent and emotional chain of events.
For Maclean, returning to filmmaking after his acclaimed debut Slow West the premiere marked the culmination of years of creative development. “It’s always exciting to bring a film to a festival audience,” he shared. “Glasgow has a great energy, and it feels right to unveil Tornado here.” From Reservoir Dogs to the Wilds of 18th-Century Britain Tim Roth, a veteran of intense, morally ambiguous characters, brings an imposing presence to Tornado as the menacing Sugarman. Reflecting on the importance of film festivals, Roth noted how they have shaped independent cinema: “Sundance with Reservoir Dogs in 1992 was the beginning of what they called the independent movement and all of that, and then they quickly killed that off. So what we're kind of hoping is that there is still a life for filmmaking sticking around, and this is a good example of us trying to do that.” Discussing his approach to playing Sugarman, Roth admitted that the film’s historical setting took some unexpected turns. “I wasn’t quite sure at times what period it was set in,” he said with a laugh. “The costume department was astounding—crossing different eras and playing with modern elements. So, whereas I would normally come in thinking, ‘I understand this character,’ this time I thought, ‘I’ll just let it go completely.’” That freedom extended to the film’s fast-paced, low-budget shoot. “John had to shoot it in 25 days and didn’t have much money to make it, and we all went at it wildly,” Roth recalled. “We had a good time. We gave him hell—it was good.” A Reunion with Maclean and the Scottish Highlands For Rory McCann, known to many as the formidable Sandor ‘The Hound’ Clegane from Game of Thrones, Tornado marked a long-awaited reunion with Maclean after Slow West. “I would say that's probably the happiest film I've ever done,” McCann reflected. “And then ten years later, I got the script for Tornado. I didn’t even need to read it—I was in.” Filming in Scotland presented challenges, but McCann embraced them. “There were so many shots every day, in terrible weather—you’ll hear all these poncy actors talking about the cold and everything,” he joked. “But in reality, although I was part of the cast, I was the only guy that didn’t have a jacket. But I survived.” McCann was also thrilled to work alongside Roth. “Back in 1999, I think I crashed his party when he was promoting his own film,” he revealed. “And now, 20-odd years later, I’m actually on stage with him. It’s a great story.” Fatherhood One of the film’s most striking themes is the contrast between Sugarman’s deeply flawed parenting and Tornado’s own relationship with her father. Roth reflected on this dynamic: “He’s a bad parent. Yes. He’s a bad example and a bad parent. So that’s kind of mirrored with Koki’s experience and her father and all that. So it flows through the film, that’s for sure. It’s not everything, but the whole thing is triggered by Koki’s thievery. But it’s how the two parents and two sort of siblings react accordingly, and it’s a slight family.” Roth’s portrayal of Sugarman isn’t just about villainy—it’s about how a parent’s actions shape their children, whether intentionally or not. The film’s exploration of familial bonds, both toxic and loving, adds an emotional weight to its thrilling narrative. Robbie Ryan’s Masterful Lens The film’s cinematography, led by two-time Oscar nominee Robbie Ryan (The Favourite, Poor Things), adds a visual poetry to Tornado, capturing the rugged beauty of Scotland while infusing it with the spirit of classic samurai cinema. Maclean, who has collaborated with Ryan across multiple projects, described their working relationship as instinctive: “We don’t have to talk to each other on set. We’re good friends off set, and then as soon as we’re on set, I just let him get on with it. We’ve got our guidelines—I know I want certain things, stacked camera, deep focus—but the rest of it was a mixture of talented Robbie, a beautiful cast, and Scotland’s landscapes.” The Art of Storytelling A key theme of Tornado is the way morality is perceived in storytelling. One particularly striking line from the film “Why do they cheer evil?” asks Tornado, to which Fujin replies, “Because good is boring “was a deliberate commentary, Maclean explained: “It’s a comment on cinema as well. I was thinking about what violence means in cinema and the fact that a lot of the films I love can be violent, and audiences can cheer for it. But I think there’s a catharsis in violence, you know? That idea that ‘good can be boring.’” Music Maclean, a former musician with The Beta Band, also ensured that Tornado’s score played a pivotal role. “I think it really helps when working with the composer because I can talk the same language as them,” he said. “I wanted the score to be melodic but still serve the picture, the tension, and the drama. When I started getting the music back, I was so excited because it was better than I ever imagined.” Celebrating Independent Cinema With Tornado, John Maclean has crafted a film that honours the samurai genre while bringing fresh perspectives to historical storytelling. The world premiere at the Glasgow Film Festival was not just a celebration of the film itself, but also of the enduring power of independent cinema. As Roth aptly put it, “We’re hoping that it will become a bit habit-forming and that we can all be a part of it.” - Lee Hutchison with Dallas King
The documentary Homegrown takes viewers deep into the heart of the 2020 election, following three passionate Trump supporters—Thad Cisneros, Randy Ireland, and Chris Quaglin—as they crisscross America campaigning for Donald Trump’s re-election. Directed by Michael Premo and produced by Rachel Falcone, the film offers an intimate portrayal of these men, their motivations, and the broader movement they sought to strengthen. It also places them at the centre of one of the most defining moments in modern American history: January 6, 2021.
The Making of Homegrown In embedding themselves within right-wing groups like the Pride Boys, Premo and Falcone entered a world that has historically huge mistrust towards mainstream media. “I wasn’t sure what type of people I would meet,” Premo recalls, “but I found individuals who had this critique that we live in a system rigged in favour of billionaires at the expense of working people.” Their access was earned through time spent at rallies and conservative events, where they built relationships and gained the trust of those they filmed. The result is an unfiltered look at political activism from the inside, devoid of narration, allowing the subjects to speak for themselves. The three primary figures—Cisneros, Ireland, and Quaglin were chosen from a larger group of participants because they embodied distinct archetypes within the movement. “Chris represented the newly politicised type,” Premo explains. “Before 2016, he had no interest in politics but felt frustrated with his life and found inspiration in Trump. Thad represented the increasing multicultural aspect of the conservative movement, and Randy was the diligent, tireless behind-the-scenes organiser.” Even as others hoped and speculated that Trump might be defeated in 2024, Premo and Falcone witnessed a different reality taking shape. “Based on what we were seeing, it seemed inevitable. It seemed like Trump would beat Biden,” Premo reflected.“And then, when Biden dropped out, it seemed even more of a lock.” Falcone echoed this sentiment, saying, “The film for us was like an understanding of what was attracting people to the movement, and so that just increased with the next election. So it felt pretty obvious to us that it was likely he was going to win.” Their firsthand experiences led them to believe that Trump's influence wasn’t waning—it was strengthening. January 6: Shock, but Not Surprised For Premo and Falcone, January 6 was a turning point in their documentary journey. “We describe it as being absolutely shocked but not surprised,” Premo says. Having spent time within the movement, they sensed the growing tension but were unprepared for the sheer scale of the chaos they experienced on the frontline that fateful day. “When the first barricade fell, we looked at each other and thought, ‘Oh my God, we should put on our gas masks. This is going to be crazy.’” Falcone describes the day as an exercise in survival. “Our goal was to stay with Chris and follow him, which helped us focus amidst the chaos. All I kept thinking was, ‘Is the camera still recording?’” Their preparation—bringing gas masks, bulletproof vests, and helmets—helped them stay safe, but nothing could prepare them for the reality of witnessing the storming of the Capitol firsthand. One moment that stands out for Premo occurred before Trump had even finished speaking. “We were gathered with our participants near the Capitol lawn. There weren’t really any police. I saw one officer get punched in the neck, fall back, and retreat up the path. That was the moment I realised, ‘Wow, this is going to be something.’” Falcone recalls a particularly harrowing experience in the tunnel of the Capitol, where she and Premo found themselves caught in a crush of bodies. “Chris was in the front, and we were in the back, trapped. You have those moments where you make eye contact and think, ‘Should we have been here? Are we going to make it out?’” They were eventually helped to safety by someone they recognised, but the experience left an indelible mark. The Fate of the Film’s Subjects Cisneros and Ireland faced legal consequences but Chris Quaglin became a prominent face of the January 6 riot. “He got one of the longest sentences for 12 years,” Premo notes. However, in a dramatic turn of events, Quaglin was pardoned on January 20 and is now free. His trajectory from politically disengaged citizen to fervent activist and then convicted rioter—mirrors the radicalisation that many within the movement underwent. A Story That Keeps Unfolding Given the evolving nature of American politics, Premo and Falcone are open to the idea of a sequel. “It might be important to continue following this story because it keeps evolving and becoming more relevant every day,” Premo says. The film has sparked discussions across the political spectrum, with conservatives and liberals alike grappling with its implications. Some Trump voters have expressed frustration with the direction of the movement, while others see Homegrown as a validation of their beliefs. For Falcone, the film serves as a lens into a movement that is often misunderstood. “It was about understanding what was attracting people to the movement,” she explains. “And so that just increased with the next election.” The film’s impact has extended beyond the U.S., with European audiences recognising parallels in their own political landscapes. “We’ve had screenings where people say, ‘I know that guy,’” Premo shares. The film serves as both a historical record and a cautionary tale. As Premo and Falcone’s work highlights, political fervour doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It grows, it changes, and, as Homegrown reveals, it leaves a lasting imprint on the individuals who embrace it and the country as a whole. - Lee Hutchison Homegrown will screen at the Glasgow Film Festival on Saturday March 8th at 8:30pm and Sunday March 9th at 3:30pm www.glasgowfilm.org/movie/homegrown/ In her feature directorial debut, The Players, writer-director Sarah Galea-Davis crafts an evocative coming-of-age drama that unearths the complexities of power, manipulation, and artistic ambition. Set in the summer of 1994, the film follows Emily, a 15-year-old who is cast in an avant-garde theatre production, only to find herself entangled in the intricate social dynamics of the troupe. As the lines between personal and professional relationships blur, Emily navigates a world where authority and influence are wielded in subtle yet profound ways.
Origins and Personal Reflections “I initially set out to write a story about female friendship,” Galea-Davis explains. “But as I worked through it, the script evolved in response to the broader #MeToo moment. It made me reflect on my past in experimental theatre—experiences that had gone unexamined but shaped how I moved through the world.” Having once aspired to be an actor, Galea-Davis participated in various fringe theatre productions, where artistic freedom often came at the cost of safety and structure. “There were a lot of unspoken rules and power dynamics that I had never really questioned,” she continues. “Looking back, I realised how much of that culture I had internalised as just ‘the way things were.’” Directing with a New Perspective The industry’s reckoning with abuse and misconduct led Galea-Davis to reassess not just her past experiences but also how she wanted to lead her own set. “The way we work on film sets has changed dramatically and thankfully, quite quickly,” she says. The Players incorporated intimacy coordination for sensitive scenes, extensive rehearsals and open conversations about boundaries. “There was this fascinating dynamic on set,” she recalls. “Because we filmed in an actual theatre, the actors would gather in the green room between takes, and it naturally became a kind of sharing circle. People reflected on their own experiences, and the project took on a deeply personal resonance for many of us.” Casting Emily Finding the right actor to play Emily was a meticulous process. The team initially sought someone close to the character’s age, but practical and ethical considerations made that difficult. “We auditioned for months—doing Zoom readings because of COVID,” she shares. Eventually, Stefani Kimber, then 20, emerged as the ideal choice. “She’s incredibly mature and has been working since she was a child,” Galea-Davis says. “What really stood out was her understanding of what she needed as an actor. When you’re directing someone in every scene of a film, that kind of self-awareness is a gift.” The Psychology of Power and Belonging One of the film’s most striking elements is its nuanced depiction of Emily’s relationship with the troupe’s enigmatic director, Reinhardt. Rather than a straightforward cautionary tale, The Players delves into the allure of charismatic figures and the emotional bonds that complicate power dynamics. “There’s a moment in the film where Emily leaves but then considers going back,” Galea-Davis notes. “That was something I was encouraged to keep in early pitches. It’s a truth we don’t often see depicted—how even when we recognise something is toxic, the need for belonging can still pull us back.” Her research led her to explore cult psychology, where idealistic intentions often blur into manipulation. “A cult is just a community that’s gone bad,” she observes. “And theatre, like any creative space, has the potential to be both empowering and dangerous.” Capturing the '90s Setting the film in 1994 was more than a nostalgic choice—it was integral to the story’s themes. “That’s when I grew up,” Galea-Davis says, “and the conversations we have now about consent, power, and agency weren’t happening then.” She reflects on the contrast between then and now. “Teenagers had more autonomy but were also more naïve. Today, they’re more protected in some ways, but with the internet, they’re also exposed to so much more. The ’90s was this strange in-between space where so much was normalised that we now see differently.” A Film That Sparks Conversation As The Players embarks on its international festival run, Galea-Davis is eager to see how audiences respond. “I don’t like to be prescriptive about what people should take away,” she says. “I love films that leave space for the audience to bring their own experiences into the interpretation.” Already, she’s seen how the film resonates with those in the arts. “I’ve had people tell me they understood Reinhardt at certain moments, which is fascinating. It speaks to the complexity of these dynamics—that not everything is black and white.” With its raw honesty and layered storytelling, The Players is sure to provoke discussions about power, agency, and the search for belonging—both in art and in life. As Galea-Davis puts it, “I just want people to talk about it. That’s the most exciting part.” - Lee Hutchison The Players will screen at the Glasgow Film Festival on Thursday March 6th at 8:45pm and Friday March 7th at 3:15pm www.glasgowfilm.org/movie/the-players |