
We make films for companies that would rather feel something than say it. We also make a few things nobody asked for. More on that below.
It started at age nine, when Alan liberated his dad's VHS camcorder and quietly declared it his own property. There is footage from this era. It is, by every available account, horrendous — and somewhere out there a few tapes are still floating around, hopefully never to be seen again.
Eventually he made the obsession official at the USC School of Cinematic Arts — the part of this story that lends the whole operation some actual credibility, and proof that the kid who stole the camcorder grew up to do it on purpose.
The career part happened later, and also by accident: a friend needed someone to film their wedding, Alan still had a camera (a better one by then), and the footage came out suspiciously good. People kept asking. He kept saying yes. A couple of decades later, that single favor has mutated into a full production studio, a wedding company, two video games, a couple of apps, and an animated children's book about a feral kid who turns into a dinosaur.
We're based in Southern California, where the sun is free and the parking is not. We still don't fully understand how any of this happened, but the hard drives are full and the clients keep coming back, so we've stopped asking questions.

Directs it, shoots it, and refuses to leave the edit until it's right. Draws his creative strength directly from the length of his red beard — a Samson situation we've all quietly agreed never to test. The longer it gets, the bolder the work; trim at your own risk. Famous last words on every project: "one more pass."
A photographer, videographer, and editor who spends his days getting lost — in thought, in love, or in the mean streets of whatever city he's currently visiting. A nomad at heart with a camera permanently attached to his hand, he keeps coming back with results his friends all want a piece of. The calm to Alan's chaos, and the other half of a two-person operation doing the work of a building full of people.
The one who actually keeps the trains running while the other two argue about frame rates. Full bio incoming — she's been too busy coordinating everyone else's chaos to write her own.
Combined beard length — classified · Strength level — rising · Adults supervised — 2
We have our own ideas — frequently too many of them. But our favorite move is stealing yours.
Most of our clients are experts at something genuinely hard to explain: global logistics, cancer research, engineering, genomics, lingerie, BBQ sauce. We take that expertise and spin it into something an actual human can understand — and, on the good days, feel.
We work concept to completion. We'll dream it up, shoot it, and then vanish into the edit bay, which is where we do our best and worst thinking. Lately we've been dragging AI into the room too — not to replace the craft, but to push the final product somewhere two people and a render queue have no business reaching.




Cinematic wedding films, nearly twenty years deep. The original accident, still going strong.
Commercial and creative work for brands and institutions. You're soaking in it.
Redundant is a first-person shooter that looks like it crawled out of 1992, in the best way. Cabinet Fury is the other one. Apparently making films all day wasn't enough screen time.
cue. keeps an event running on the day-of; runaro. runs a whole studio from first inquiry to final delivery. Two apps quietly plotting world domination from a folder on the desktop.