"A 1080p Metropolis Running at 30 Frames per Second": Chatting with the Makers of In the Glow of Darkness

Chatting with In the Glow of Darkness director Tucker Bennett and producer/composer Chris Corrente about making a cyberpunk epic with a DIY mindset!

In the Glow of Darkness has its world premiere at Paradise Cinema on August 23 as a part of BE Fest 2, with the filmmaker and members of the cast present. It will be preceded by the short films Duvet (directed by Kat Toledo) and Terry’s Calendar (directed by Chris Connor). Individual tickets and packages available HERE!

In August of 2022, for our second event ever, Bleeding Edge hosted the Toronto premiere of Tucker Bennett’s Planet Heaven, a 56-minute DIY psychedelic freakout of a movie about a “Chakra-balancing” smartphone app with devastating side effects. At once a showcase for Bennett’s outré aesthetic sensibilities and a satire about the technological monopolization of the “wellness” industry, Planet Heaven had the audience, contained in the second floor of The Pilot, in stitches.

Three years later, we’re excited to invite Tucker back to Toronto, this time to the beautiful Paradise Cinema, for the world premiere of In the Glow of Darkness, a cyberpunk epic set in San Zokyo, “a 1080p metropolis running at 30 frames per second, 15 minutes into the future and 10 years in the past.” Tucker, fresh off editing Eugene Kotlyarenko’s The Code (with Sabrina Greco), takes on the future once again with this futuristic tale about a tech corporation invading people’s pscyhes to fill their brain with hyper-specific, AI-generated advertisements.

Once again, Tucker and his collaborators bring their DIY sensibility to this sci-fi epic, showcasing an ingenuity he learned from legendary underground filmmaker George Kuchar and various tricks developed while putting together no-budget features like Why Are You Weird?, Candelabra, and Bloodrape.

We chatted with Tucker and producer/composer Chris Corrente about making In the Glow of Darkness and bringing it to Toronto for its world premiere.

BE: Tucker, you recently shared a photo of a 10-year-old script or outline for the movie. How far back does the idea for In the Glow of Darkness go? How long have you been working on it?

TB: 2014-15 is when I wrote it with one of my teenage buddies, named Evan Sokal, and this was the time that I noticed this particular type of architecture, and it seemed to be the only type of buildings being constructed anymore. I lived in the Bay Area, right next to Pixar Studios, and across the street from Pixar, there was this apartment community with these blocky mid-rise apartments, and they shared the same parking lot with a Target, Best Buy, a grocery store and a discount department store. I was like, “Wow, this is such a great city of the future!” You know, you work at Pixar, you have your computer job, and then you walk across the street and you have everything you need. This is the town square of the future!

When you think of “cyberpunk,” you think of Blade Runner, you think of wet-down streets, the holograms, the neon, the hovercrafts, but I think the more accurate vision of a cyberpunk future is that everybody lives at Target, and your brains are being monetized by everything. There's a dark irony and tragic beauty to that kind of thing that I thought nobody is talking about. These are the only types of apartments you see in the world now, but you never see them in movies or anything, because a Victorian house or whatever is obviously much more beautiful.

BE: You have these establishing shots of San Zokyo in the film, which show these buildings… I don't know how you would describe those architecturally, they're very plain, but they come in different colors.

TB: Yeah, we've learned that they're called mid-rise apartments. It's so clearly a generation of architecture that's purely designed by a computer, that's purely designed within CAD. They take the human element out and it's optimized for the best usage of space, with the cheapest materials, with a finish that looks the same as everything else. It's interesting to me. It's an automated world. Chris calls it… Standard Land?

Chris Corrente: Standard World. yeah.

TB: I feel like the vision of the future is a government-issued house. Everybody lives in the same 3D-printed apartment, shops at the same store, and has issued clothes, and maybe even babies. That's a funny, darkly ironic, vision of a future world or a contemporary bizarro world. There’s a certain tragic beauty about contemporary time that I think is interesting. You definitely don't need me to tell you that you should have been here yesterday, you know? Everybody knows the 70s were cool, there were bell bottoms and vinyl and whatever. But maybe you might need a little help seeing the tragic beauty of Target and mid-rise apartments, and of AI and stuff like that.

BE: Speaking of AI, there are these AI ads interspersed in the movie, so obviously, the vision of this movie has changed somewhat since 10 years ago when you initially wrote the script, I'm what has changed since then.

TB: I should clarify that it wasn't a 10-year process of trying to do it. After we wrote it with these grandiose ideas, I was like, “Hollywood's gonna take one look at this screenplay and give me all the money! This is the most brilliant thing ever written!” And then I couldn't get it off the ground at that moment, so I put it away, but it was the sort of thing where the world doesn't care at all if you write your novel, or if you release your bedroom rock album, or if you make that movie. But if you really feel that you have something to say, then it's not gonna go away, and it's gonna eat at you.

So finally, after doing Planet Heaven, I had a little confidence and I was like, “Okay, I gotta do this, I gotta go back to that movie.” Because one day, somebody's gonna have a similar idea, and they're gonna have mid-rise apartments in it, and I'm gonna be devastated, you know? You have to make this stuff real, because it also becomes bitterness, you know? And what I like to say is, you gotta do it so the bummer doesn't become bitter. Like, how many haters do you know that didn't make their movie or whatever, and so now they hate all movies, and they just talk shit? That eats away at you.

CC: Coming into the project like 5 years ago or whatever, I think a lot of what we had to do was reimagine this. Even with a dystopian-style film, there's still an element of people projecting the future we wish we would have, and I think In the Glow of Darkness centres around the future that's right the fuck in front of us, that feels vaguely inevitable. I think things like the AI and some of the more modern corporations that wouldn't have been around a decade ago were a natural through-line for this mid-rise apartment version of technology? Like, what's this future that is right there for the taking in front of us, that if we approach this projection with honesty, feels like what it would be, and so these shitty AI-driven ads generated from mining your brain feels about right. It feels like a natural fit to the future we're stuck with, rather than the one we wish we would have.

BE: Yeah, I have this thought every time it seems like Neuromancer is gonna finally get turned into a movie, where it's like, that book is a dystopian vision of the future from the 1980s, but anything that gets made now with that much money behind it, is ironically gonna be a nostalgic look at 80s aesthetics, with the neon and everything.

TB: Yeah, you can't unsee Blade Runner, you know? Blade Runner is such an amazing visualization of that. You can't help but associate cyberpunk with that kind of thing.

BE: What's actually scary would be like, what does Silicon Valley look like now? How do you show people how close you are to the dystopia right now, and I think your movie does a great job of doing just that.

CC: We made a conscious effort to avoid vaporwave aesthetics. Like, musically, no vaporwave was definitely one of the rules. No vaporwave, no hyperpop, let's avoid these tropes that I think are super common in sci-fi and indie filmmaking right now.

TB: The AI is supposed to be AI. Like, it's consciously AI. People get so pissed off when they feel that they've been tricked, and feel like that's not real. Like, “they tried to pass off AI smoke as real smoke!” or something. People get all up in arms, but this is supposed to draw attention to the jankiness and inhumanity of AI. It’s used for comedic, and also, thematic effect. That these advertisements would be generated from your subconscious. There's an interesting through-line between dream imagery and AI-generated imagery, and the way they can't have digits, whether they be fingers or numbers on a clock or something.

CC: When we started making the AI component of the movie, we were doing about as well as we could on home machines, but by the end, it's like, oh, we could make this more convincing. The current state of AI has improved, but we had to continuously try to walk the shittier line. Everything's trying to look better, but San Zokyo’s AI is stuck here. So making sure that, even though in our reality the technology improved, we committed to the bit of, like, this is where it's at here.

BE: Yeah, I like that it’s a capsule moment, because AI is only that shitty for a few months, and then it's just gonna get better from there.

TB: Absolutely. Next year it will be indistinguishable between what's real and whatever, so at least this one is trying to draw attention to it. It also fits, because San Zokyo is a 1080p world, you know? They don't have 4K.

BE: When you talked to me about this movie before, you called it your “cyberpunk epic,” but it's still made with a very DIY spirit. So for both of you, how did this version of the movie get off the ground, and who were your collaborators that helped you put it together?

TB: Well, in revisiting the old script, it was taking things away and thinking logistically on how to pull this off. Like, “Okay, let me combine these characters, get rid of some locations.” There's still, like, 40 locations. My first script had the editing written into it, in terms of, like, split screen here, and then dissolve to this, and then, you know, wing-wong, boom bam. Because to me, I'm like, I want everyone to see the vision, you know? And of course my freak friends could be like, “Wow, that's amazing!” But that stuff is distracting for an actor, or a producer, someone who's coming at it from, like, “What is the story of the movie?” So I was like, oh, let me get rid of all that and just have the emotional story and character stuff, which is the only way you could understand the thing, because it jumps around so much, and you have to make it easier for the reader and not try to wow them with all your visionary shit.

CC: As far as the collaborator part, Tucker and I are willing to take on anything, so some little bits of collaboration, plus our willingness to solve the problem was good. I would say one of the biggest folks who helped was Adrian Anderson [director of Pomp & Circumstance]. He was a great producer, because he was able to rally people around the cause and get them excited. He was great at hyping up Tuck's vision and hyping up the project and getting people involved. The head camera person worked on trade, and I think that was huge. Like, obviously, it's lo-fi aesthetics, but we do what we can to have a lot of captivating shots and try to make it look as good as we can within the context. And I think, Tuck, that freed you up to play director, right? Where in the past films, not having someone you trusted behind the camera meant that it was always you, which I know you love, and I know you like your moves and everything, but having somebody else to man the camera so Tuck could focus on creating the vibe of both the set and the direction, I think, was hugely important. His name is Neal Wynne [director of The Trick].

TB: Chris and I's San Francisco buddy, David Borengasser, was also an active camera guy, if Neal couldn't make it. On a great day, we'd have both of them so we could really cover stuff. It was definitely useful to have someone to get the “good” shot, so that I could still have my camera and do weird zooms and wobbles and stuff.

I do feel like even though this is my fifth feature, it's the first one I've actually directed, in terms of being able to communicate what was happening in the scene. I feel like before I would always be like, “Oh, just do this, and I'm gonna film.” Just watching people squirm and figure it out for themselves while I wobbled the camera around. But for this time, I felt like, because it is so crazy, and a lot of the language is stylized and full of alliteration and cyber jargon, that I had to set the stakes for people and say, like, why you're saying this, and come up with actual comfortable ways of saying these things. So yeah, after shooting things, I would be like, “Wow, I feel like I'm finally a director and able to communicate my vision!” But then I go in and I watch the footage and I'm still mumbling and incoherent, so I don't know, I would love to hear what the actors thought.

CC: Tucker's brother, Lucas Bennett, has been involved heavily. Li Ming Hu, who plays Bunny, being able to do the singing and just being game, like, “Fuck it, I'll do it!” I think, goes a long way, too.

TB: I would also say that PeerSpace is something that really made it possible. Pretty much all the locations, except for a few donations, were PeerSpace, which is essentially an Airbnb for sets or venues, spaces, I just go on the app and be like, “oh, I want a recording studio! I want a fake strip club! I need a 50s diner!” For many of them, you don't need production insurance, and a bunch of them have lights built in. So sometimes you might have to bring your own lights and put them on the grid or whatever, but a lot of the ones I did had lights already there, so it's really me and two other people, let's rent this thing for two hours, go and film this conversation on a rooftop or something.

CC: They're not meant for cinema. They're meant for Instagram shoots and stuff, so they wouldn't probably hold up under a 4K lens, but for what we're doing, it fits. This cookie-cutter, generic look and feel.

TB: They're essentially made out of cardboard, but if your movie takes place in cardboard world, they make sense. Since shooting there, I see them all the time on Instagram or YouTube. Little DIY rap videos that are shot in the same little spaces and stuff. It’s awesome. I want it to be recognizable locations, because this is Standard World. So it's like, that's what a restaurant is now. Because there's no art director or production designer or anything. It's Chris and I and some friends made our props. So it’s like we'll print the coasters, and bring them into this set, and that's our art direction. Having all these ready-made things, which, again, aren't appropriate for a “real” movie, but for this movie, it makes sense. That was a lifesaver, and that's largely where the budget went, was to renting these sets for a couple hours at a time. And also having food for the first time, going out to dinner and having snacks on set. We've only ever ran on favors until now, which we still cashed in like a gazillion dollars worth of favors for this, too, but at least we had a bit of food.

BE: How would you compare the experience of working on this to a more professional film? You were editor of The Code, for example. I don't know if you were on set for that film, but were there any distinctive differences that you can point to?

TB: I was on set for The Code. There were way more people, there were five producers and wardrobe people and stuff like that. Because of the unconventional quality of that, shot using GoPros and hidden cameras and all this stuff, it definitely did not feel like showing up to a studio lot and filming.

But this feels like it was a million dollar movie! We really did attempt to do Total Recall, you know? And this is what came out. It's conceived as this huge Philip K. Dick extravaganza, but we did it in the way that we knew how, in a way that made sense. It's this style of incorporating any limitations into the aesthetic and humor of the movie. Just having a little bit of money made me feel like I was doing a multi-million dollar movie. Just to be on these sets and to have money for some props and stuff like that, and to get a lot of people together, and to have a bunch of real story threads keeping it all together. It definitely felt like a huge level-up in my work.

BE: If you go back and compare this to Why Are You Weird?, for example, this is definitely much more distinctive in its style. It carries on from at least Planet Heaven in terms of being full of bright colours and characters talking in this technobabble-y kind of way. When did your style start to veer in that direction and can you pinpoint any reason why it went that way?

TB: I think naturally, you pick up new tricks as you get older and want to do bigger things. During the time where I lost my confidence and dropped out from trying to make features, I largely did video diaries and music videos and little short-form things. Chris and I are both compulsive tinkerers. We're going to be doodling away, whether there's a project or not, because it feels good. That's where we find our joy, is messing with material, making sounds, making art, making images and stuff. So I refined this style from making my video diaries and YouTube videos. When I came back to doing stuff, it seemed natural that I would apply this language.

I would say that Chris and I are both true disciples of our teacher [and legendary underground filmmaker] George Kuchar, and working on his class movies is the best editing lesson you could ever have, because you're privy to seeing this crazy footage being shot. It's total chaos, and then you come back the next week, and he's shown you what he's done with it, and you're like, wow, that is the only way you could have made sense of that footage, but also the coolest possible way you could have put it together. That is such an amazing lesson in how to construct your thing through the editing, through incorporating weird little models, or weird, bizarre transitions and stuff. So, yeah, it seemed appropriate for this new kind of sci-fi movie.

Chris and I wanted this to be in conversation with what we call the “hybrid movies” of 15 years ago. Like these movies from 2009 and 2010. Scott Pilgrim, Gamer, Speed Racer. There was really something happening there, and then it stopped. Maybe it became video games or something. That goes with our nostalgic future thing, too. We're looking back to that 15-year-old movie language and trying to do something like that, but first and foremost, it's stuff that makes sense. What is gonna crack me up when I'm putting it together? I love painting with things and finding out what's the funniest way I can put this scene together while getting to the point of it, but also salvaging the footage that I got. It's like, okay, this shot doesn't really hold up on its own, but what if I crammed it together with five other shots and made a grid out of it? Like, how can you get the most out of the very DIY footage that you got. A lot of times your fuck-ups as a director makes you have to do some creative shit as an editor.

BE: Chris, how did you get involved in this film and what direction did you take in terms of making the music for it?

CC: Tuck and I have worked together on a number of films. I did a lot of the music for Planet Heaven, and I've been a cast member in many of his past films, we've made some shorts in the past, and we played in a band together, which is to say there's a long-standing artistic, collaborative relationship. Largely the way I work with Tuck is he sends me inspiration, I usually grab exactly the wrong thing from it. He's like, “Oh, something like this!” And then I hear some element of that song that had nothing to do with what he liked about it, but I send back something inspired by it anyway, and he's a great collaborator, so he's usually like “Not what I was thinking, but fucking awesome,” or “The melancholy part is what I was attracted to.”

I tried to set some rules to make it distinct and unique. I didn't want it to be vaporwave. There are hints of hyperpop, because I work on a computer, but there's certain nuances of hyperpop, including the sample-based stuff that I made sure to leave out. First, we set the San Zokyo vibe, which is one part Mark Mothersbaugh Rugrats, one part Tetsuo the Iron Man. You weave it all together to figure out what the San Zokyo vibe is. The later stuff is more classical-sounding things, the more conventionally “cinematic” sounds and whatnot that get layered in to make it feel like a movie. But we like to have a lot of the music done prior to the shooting, so that Tucker can vibe on it, listen in his free time, start to inhabit the world of San Zokyo and then hopefully play it on set, get people in the mood.

TB: Yeah, I need it to start seeing it in my head. I like having it on when I'm making a call sheet or, like doing a script revision, or working in that world. It's like, “Okay, let me turn on the playlist so I can get my mind into that zone.”

BE: So once this movie premieres, what are your future plans for it? You got anything else lined up?

TB: I need my friends in every city to start film festivals! I'm hoping to have one screening down, and hopefully some good feedback from it will help someone else take the risk, because it's not something that established institutions are quick to endorse because it's probably not what your preconception of what a film festival movie is. For a lot of people, it breaks their brain. Like, wait, is this video art, or a YouTube video, or a movie? Because you know immediately that it looks different, and it looks fucked up.

My analogy I've been using is that we made this new flavor of soda, where we went to the machine and we got a little bit of everything, and then we sprinkled coffee, and then energy drink, and then LSD and all this stuff. So, yeah, freaks are gonna be like, “Wow, this is amazing!” But you can't expect everyone on Earth to take a sip of this and think it's good and want to drink the rest, you know? But hopefully if you are an adventurous soda drinker, you'll be like, “Okay, this is different, I'll drink the rest of this and see where this goes!”