A funny thing happened to my movie premiere…

Last spring I had some things I was working on here and there. Working my business. Making movies. Photography. Painting. Stuff. I was busy but happy with my level of busy-ness. I was also about to have a premiere for one of the two movies I shot in 2021, Fugued Up. It was to play at the Egyptian Theatre in Downtown Boise. Tickets were selling. Cast and Crew were attending. Buzz was buzzing. But then a week prior I got a weird text from a friend.

“Someone on Facebook just claimed you raped them.”

Well, that’s weird. I quickly go online to see what the buzz what. I see that a Facebook film group is commenting on my film premiere, and a girl I know from a 48-hour film festival thought it would be cute to write on social media that I had raped her.

I reached out to the admin of the group. They respond by kicking me out. I couldn’t even form any sort of rebutle. The main one being “I didn’t.”

I will jump ahead to the story, then meander back. I talk to the police. The details I have is a day in 2021 I supposedly raped this girl in the back of my studio. I do not hesitate to share with the police the video camera footage from the many cameras we have there. I even offered up my DNA in the form of a swap of spit.

They then talk to the girl, who suddenly has a different story. They tell me not to worry, she was having a bad day.

So, why write such a horrific thing on Facebook?

A few months later I’m reached out to by another filmmaker who tells me of the same events with this girl. They hung out, they started working on a short film, then she goes dark and tells his friends that he raped her.

Talk about a bad breaker-upper.

Turns out her “bad days” are designed to destroy lives to make her feel better.

So, now let’s meander back as I promised. What happened after the original event is the basis of my open letter. During that time I heard from many of my friends, and suddenly stopped hearing from many others. Some reached out to ask if I was okay. Others blocked me on social media. Some stood up for me in basic conversations. Others thought it would be fun to write on their own social media about how I should burn followed by a #met00. They never asked me if it was true. They just assumed the worst of their friend and moved on.

If you want to know who your real friends are… get called a rapist.

So 18 months later I’m still alive. About to head to LA for my next movie premiere for TV in Bed. Holding on to great friends and strengthening some new ones.

Still making films.

Still doing business.

Still living a very happy life with my amazing wife.

No longer trusting of anyone beyond my immediate bubble in life.

To the people who shunned me. To those who I still see in public trying not to lock eyes. To those who ate my food when they were hungry, used my office when they needed a place to work, used my help to make their films and projects when they had nothing but a glimmer of an idea, who pretended to be my friend.

I hope someday this doesn’t happen to you. I really do.

But also… fuck you.