The reviews are in.

“J. Andrew’s Dream Upon Waking might be the best pandemic short you’ve seen this year. Bold colors, excellent storytelling, and editing expand the film’s dreamy world.”

— Roxie Theater

The year 2020 was the longest decade of my life.

I honestly do not believe I would have survived the last year with my sanity intact were it not for my cinema production courses at City College of San Francisco. When the world seemed to be crumbling before me, I felt a level of protracted anxiety that was unlike everything I’d ever experienced before or thought I would experience in the future. I didn’t have the language to describe how I was feeling. While in a panic about a world shutting down, and with my planned trip back home to family in friends for the first time in years indefinitely postponed, I leaned into my film studies and began expressing myself in this new medium through a series of poetic films.

When the Fall 2020 semester arrived, I was ready to up my game, but many of the emotional challenges remained. I made a commitment to myself to explore radical creativity that culminated in my final film of the very long year, Dream Upon Waking. The themes explored in this film draw upon my experiences as a closeted queer teenager. Growing up I had a large walk-in closet that I turned into a secret black-lit alternate universe that was a literal and figurative representation of my queer inner creative warrior longing to break free of the constraints of a world that didn’t see me as the full measure of human that I am. It was my safe space. This was the inspiration behind the production design.

The question I faced was how to translate this tiny room where I entertained fabulous and fantastical imaginary characters as a child into something would engage a trans-temporal dialogue between my closeted inner child, and the out gay man still inhibited by fears. One of my greatest fears as an adult is dancing. Mercilessly ridiculed for the way that I danced and the myriad ways I expressed myself growing up, I learned to hide my inner queer warrior from everyone—including myself.

Through an exploration of space and dance to the song prominently featured in this film, I found my story’s character. Starting with a few strips of black gaffer tape and ultimately with over 300 yards of black-light reactive gaffers tape, I created a forced perspective inner room whose proportions recreated my childhood closet. My hope is that this film will serve as a reminder that the indomitable queer spirit of creativity lives inside us all, and that we give that spirit the permission to express themselves.

Love yourself.
Be yourself.