Warning: This is a risk-it-for-a-biscuit post.
You’ve been writing for years. Or you’ve been making your own films. Or you’ve been acting in other people’s projects for free, always sincerely and dedicated, and yet…
Nothing has happened. Doors may have half-opened, interest was gained and lost… or maybe diddly-squat happened. No signing to an agent. No funding secured.
The definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
(And no, Einstein never said this.)
Back in the 90s, I filmed three projects: A 16mm short, a 16mm feature film and a Betacam television pilot. All made for *next-to-nothing, all D.O.A. for numerous reasons I will write about another day (and I promise, those posts WILL BE eye-opening, explaining in gritty detail what it’s like to get kicked in the teeth in three thousand and fifty seven flavours).
I made one more zero budget film in the early 2000s, then snuck out the back door with no interest in doing it again, because what was the point? All that effort, energy and stress… for what?
So why am I prepping to go again, all these years later?
Because I’m doing it how I want to do it.
Because I’m doing what I can afford to do (time AND money).
Because I’m doing what I can physically and mentally cope with.
Because I have finally found a way which makes sense to me.
The plan isn’t to land an agent or funding for a feature. This isn’t calling card territory. I’m doing this because I’m excited at the possibilities. As readers of Short People will know by now, I write, amongst many things, one hundred word flash fiction. And that’s what I want to do: Transfer that immediacy and story-telling authentically to filmmaking.
So what exactly am I doing?
What is SHORT PEOPLE?
SHORT PEOPLE is a series of one-minute cinematic stories about people. All sorts of people, from overlooked lives to emotionally charged moments: Or both!
Blending dark comedy, psychological realism, and quiet surrealism, the films explore loneliness, class, shame, desire, and human connection through fragments that feel part of larger unseen worlds.
Think of those clips from movies you see on Instagram Reels or TikTok. The ones where they steal a clip from a film and never tell you what film its from so you’re forced to ask, thus generating more clicks for them. Viewers will happily watch these all day long. Perhaps they DO hunt down the full movie, I don’t know. The point is: It’s a scene from a bigger movie. An off-cut from a much larger canvas.
SHORT PEOPLE films will be fragments of time. Moments that imply larger unseen lives beyond the frame and time restriction. Each film is designed to feel like a scene from a feature film that doesn’t exist - intimate glimpses into lives already in motion.
SHORT PEOPLE will:
impose a formal constraint, which audiences understand intuitively
favour concept and character over production logistics
Offer curated, authored work
suit an online audience trained to appreciate brevity and receptive to experimentation
Storytelling and character over cinematography: Confidence not spectacle.
What SHORT PEOPLE is not:
Branding
Sketch comedy
“Vertical” story-telling
Competing with YouTube or TikTok creators
Content farming
AI slop
An attempt to chase algorithms through “going viral”
Chasing visual cleverness at the expense of clarity
Built around punchlines or twists
It isn’t a tiny feature film wearing baby shoes. It doesn’t need exposition, a neat ending, or someone saying, “Well, that’s what I call closure.”
A demo reel
SHORT PEOPLE is not interested in perfection, polish for its own sake, or “internet relatability” engineered for engagement.
Instead, the project treats small moments seriously. Awkwardness, silence, social discomfort, loneliness, class tension, and emotional contradiction are approached cinematically, with atmosphere, restraint, humour, and emotional precision.
At its heart, SHORT PEOPLE is not about attention. It’s about emotional residue: creating moments that linger after the screen goes dark.
What is the belief system of SHORT PEOPLE?
ordinary life is cinematic
awkwardness reveals truth
small moments carry enormous emotional weight
fragments can be as affecting and effective as full narratives
This philosophy is what makes SHORT PEOPLE feel bigger than “someone posting short videos online.”
SHORT PEOPLE rejects the idea that cinematic storytelling requires scale, permission, or institutional backing. Because, as anyone who has ever tried to make a film without connections or financial backing knows, that ain’t happening.
We live in an age where opportunity still has a funny habit of travelling down familiar corridors: family names, existing contacts, private networks, people already standing near the door when it opens.
Those kinds of opportunities simply do not come our way.
So, do we give up? Leave it to those who can afford it?
We are living in an age where audiences discover cinema through fragments: reposted scenes, isolated moments, emotional clips, and brief encounters online that create curiosity and connection instantly.
At the same time, contemporary life has become deeply contradictory. We are more visible than ever online, yet many people feel emotionally unseen in their actual lives. Modern existence often feels performative, fragmented, lonely, and quietly surreal, especially within systems shaped by class pressure, economic instability, social anxiety, and digital intimacy.
SHORT PEOPLE is interested in those fractures.
The project uses the language of modern platforms - brevity, immediacy - but pushes against the disposable nature of online content by treating these fragments as cinema rather than promotion. A cinematic world can be built with minimal resources but a strong point of view. SHORT PEOPLE embraces that freedom.
Rather than waiting for permission, SHORT PEOPLE asks:
What if emotionally rich cinema could exist anywhere, even inside a one-minute clip someone discovers at 1am and can’t stop thinking about afterwards?
Or perhaps viewers do just want AI slop?
Like I said, risk-it-for-a-biscuit.
*Some last-minute life-saving money was injected by the patron Saint of no-budget filmmakers, Terry Gilliam - the ONLY person who replied to my begging letters - who paid for cans of film/developing.
*If you are practically interested in helping get SHORT PEOPLE off the ground, drop me a line or support the project via KO-FI.COM
