Midnight Radio Theater Blog

I’ve never tried acquiring any kind of funding for my work because it never seems to be relevant. This is not intentional on my part, it just happens that way. Recently, I produced a story about a couple who hears a ghost screaming from their basement. This is not really a tale to shop around for serious grant money. For a filmmaker looking for art funds, I believe you usually have to prove your work somehow means something to the community – that it has real social value. For instance, if I had an idea to do a poignant documentary on AIDS in ’80s New York City, I probably wouldn’t have any problem finding the money I needed for the project. But, unfortunately, my work never reaches those ideological heights. And so, like many filmmakers out there in the world, I have to fund everything myself (through credit cards, begging, 2nd mortgage, etc.) to get anything produced.

OK…so that’s when I got the idea to produce radio dramas. No locations, no camera/lighting set-ups, no this, no that – the cost of producing stories just went way down. Everything became affordable suddenly, and I didn’t need outsiders to invest.

Midnight Radio Theater was born as merely a cheap way to produce stories. I wish I could say it had a more noble inspiration, like, “I really wanted to take the old-style radio dramas to much higher level. I wanted to completely reinvent the radio drama with modern stories and a sophisticated sound design that rivals big Hollywood films. Take the art of radio drama to a new place – re-discover it and give it back to the American Public reinvigorated!” No, I’m afraid I didn’t have such aspirations.

When I was finishing up my first episode, “Insomnia,” I had to listen to the thing over and over. And by this time I was sick and tired of it, but I pushed through, knowing it was almost finished. I still had no idea whether what I had created was any good. Nonetheless, the night came to premiere the piece. I invited my friends to the house, herded them all into the living room, shut off the lights, and turned it up louder than I should have.

When it was over, I got a tremendous response and, I have to say, I was truly surprised. Surprised at the great reaction and surprised at the interesting thing I had built. And I’m not just talking about the story – although the story was good – I’m talking about the possibility of what I had in front of me. Everyone at the listening party had a different interpretation and experience of what they heard (or thought they heard). The medium left things much more to the imagination than I would have thought. And I believe it’s about taking away our sense of sight. We depend on our sight a lot more than we admit. In the context of art, it has become a kind of co-dependent relationship. For instance, you watch a movie and your brain is told exactly what to imagine through pictures chosen by someone else. But…when you shut off the lights and take away the visual aspect, your brain is forced to do all the visualizing – working and creating pictures it chooses. In the end, I believe the audience can have a greater ownership of the art. A more independent experience.

I started listening to more radio after this discovery – mainly, This American Life. They are utilizing the power of imagination for all it’s worth (and have been for quite awhile now). This show has transcended modern radio and left everyone else in the field trying to catch up. They are at the top, in my opinion, and as I produce more episodes, I will always be aiming for the bar they have set.

I’m almost finished with my 7^th episode, and I have no plans to stop producing the show. After finishing each one, I find I get more excited about the potential of where I can expand the imagination of the show – and continue to push the boundaries of the medium.

However, my work is still entirely not relevant.