Synopsis: In the middle of the night, a ghost tries to communicate with his lover by playing piano.
One night, I woke up in the middle of the night and noticed that the light on my piano, just outisde of my bedroom, was on. It could’ve been my cat, but while I tried to fall asleep again, I came up with the idea that it could be a ghost trying to communicate with me for some reason. That’s how June first came about.
I also am a big fan of silent films, as they are the foundation of film as an art form, telling stories through visuals and sound/music; some of my favourite films are silent films. At the same time, I’m past the point where I feel the need to politicize my films when I touch on LGBT subject matter. I’ve rarely, if ever, seen a gay-themed film about grief, which is something that I’ve been struggling with over the last few years. I realized June didn’t need any dialogue at all, that I could let the images of an overturned photo and a vase of lilies imply grief and death, for instance. By choosing to make a silent film, I could tell the story of a ghost and a man both struggling in their different ways in a beautiful way that doesn’t require language, and that people all over the world can understand.
Previous screenings: Vancouver Queer Film Festival, Austin Lesbian and Gay International Film Festival, GFest: Gaywise Festival, Shropshire Rainbow Film Festival
“Though it’s a more sombre piece about lost love, music and ghosts, there is enough space to breath in its short run time and it’s well acted with minimal dialogue. It doesn’t try to stuff too much history of the relationship into it, just a moment in time that sticks out above the rest.” — PressPlus1
“A creepy short film about a ghost haunting his widowed partner’s piano. I don’t know who’s in more pain here: the partner, still grieving; or the ghost trying vainly to play music.” — Nicholas Demers