RADIOLAND · STORY ONE
Within a shared dream, a couple is forced to relive the nightmare of losing their child.
THE SCREENING
The film plays best in the dark, with the sound up.
THE FILM
When Jane hears someone abduct her child through the baby monitor, she desperately searches her home — only to uncover the nightmare buried within her marriage.
Shot over four sleepless nights in a single house, INTRUDER is a psychological horror told in black and white — a story of grief, marriage, and the rooms we're afraid to open. It is the first installment of the anthology series RADIOLAND.
“The child is never seen.”
STILLS
DIRECTOR’S STATEMENT
I got married a year ago. As a filmmaker, the idea of having a child terrifies me. The thought of never having one frightens me even more. I want that future. I am also afraid of what it might cost.
INTRUDER came from putting that fear inside a house and letting it grow. The child is never seen. Jane and Frank may be grieving something they lost, or something they are still too afraid to choose. Everything lives somewhere between memory, possibility, and nightmare.
— Austin John Smith, writer / director
THE FILMMAKER
Working in LA for over a decade, Austin John Smith made his way through the camera and art departments, ultimately landing as creative assistant to George Tillman Jr. for over seven years. Assisting on Marvel, Disney and Sony productions, Austin has also written and sold over four horror feature scripts to MD Pictures in the Indonesian film market.
Today Austin works in the commercial and documentary space and serves fellow artists by running a film club through Mosaic Houses, designed to help filmmakers create the short film of their dreams. INTRUDER is the arrival of a new voice in independent psychological horror — and the first story of his anthology series, RADIOLAND.
WHY THIS FILM
“INTRUDER came when I stopped waiting for the right script and budget and started creating with the people already beside me. With a handful of friends, we spent four sleepless nights wearing whatever hats were needed until the house felt like the shared nightmare of the couple at the heart of the film. The film exists because everyone said yes and trusted the process. To me, that is independent filmmaking. A group of people choosing to play, choosing each other, and building a strange and beautifully dark world for an audience to enter.”
Four sleepless nights, one house, a handful of friends — and a mannequin named nobody.
CREDITS