H6LLB6ND6R

This film is a crossroads of sorts. It’s a convergence of our family band H6LLB6ND6R, a real-life genetic who-dunnit, and life in the time of Covid.

Our band came first. From the get-go we were intrigued by the concept of something that is irreverent, mysterious, and fluid. H6LLB6ND6R became our year-round musical outlet where we explore through song and image. Some of our early videos are crystal ball peeks into the visual tones and supernatural arcana we would revisit in the feature. In the way a note turns into a song, or a river pours into an ocean, H6LLB6ND6R the band flowed into H6LLB6ND6R the movie.

Genetics had something to do with it, too. In 2019 Toby’s mother revealed on her deathbed that Toby was conceived via sperm donor. This alone was fun tinder for a new movie idea: deathbeds, donor dads, and fifty years of deception! Who was this mysterious father? And what kind of person? An angel of a soul... or a hellish one, an axe murderer, for all we knew. The truth is not so nefarious, but the seed for our story was sewn. What if our biology is a mystery? And what if its truth is concealed because it’s not pretty? It’s dark. Bloody. And inevitable. We enjoyed the challenge of creating our own deviant mythology - our titular h6llb6nd6r- a “cross between a witch, a demon, and an apex predator,” as Izzy puts it. Something complicated: female in form (but sexless); powerful and feared; unapologetic.

As we began shooting in early 2020, the isolation and loneliness of our characters began to mirror the same in the real world around us: Covid killed closeness. When Izzy says she can’t get close to people and Amber suggests, “None of us can,” there’s a familiar, hard truth there: for today’s viewers, for Izzy (who, led to believe she’s sick, sneaks down the mountain for companionship), for Amber (a country girl who breaks into rich weekenders’ homes to feel alive), and for Mom (who can do little more than hang on lonely storefronts. Even a jaunt to town risks exposure when you age at the rate of a rock.) And like the insidious workings of a pandemic, who’s a danger to whom?

Izzy’s and Mom’s isolation goes beyond geography. Whether on or off the mountain, the very nature of their shared identity is one of disconnection and violence.... to be “soul-less, unloved, and feared.” They come from a long line of supernatural beings whose power derives from fear itself - specifically the blood through which it runs. This identity sits uneasily in Mom’s belly. She’d rather starve her nature than feed it. But can nature be starved? Mom thinks she can nurture Izzy “to be good, not evil.” Yet her fantasy to evolve, to live like normal “people,” belies the reality of what being close to those same people leads to: dangerous cravings and a genetic appreciation of hierarchy. It’s a flawed if forgivable fantasy, sparked from personal experience and regret, but one that only fuels Izzy’s mission to be her authentic self. Fear, after all, is tasty. It’s meant to be devoured by their kind, not practiced.

Izzy questions how the urge to kill and consume can be right in an animal but wrong in her. Once her true nature is awakened, certain instincts kick in, like hormones in all teens. As when a girl gets her period, Izzy would benefit from a mother’s guidance. It’s sad that Mom misses this rite of passage and unfair that Izzy’s left to navigate these changes alone. Growing up is hard; parenting is hard, whether you’re a h6llb6nd6r or a human. As a family that makes films about families, we were motivated to tell a story about these universal struggles and triumphs, but through an unusual lens - in this case, the modern offspring of powerful, self-propagating, blood-hungry beings who just happen to love nature walks, vintage cars, and play in a band. On the surface they’re not so different from most human families. Mom gets high on the sly; Izzy privately explores her image in the mirror. Mom worries and protects; Izzy wants freedom and friends. Families are beautifully complex, punctured with imperfection. Lies are there to fill the holes; secrets to protect. The book exists as a foil, as a truth-telling device; something absolute, sacred, and omniscient- if a bit cruel. A h6llb6nd6r bible that crystallizes or warps the past, present and future in tune with each character’s deepest dread or desire. It’s like a mood ring - or an old unearthed sex mag or private diary a kid finds in the attic, delivering an uncomfortable but stark gulp of reality. The book has no shame. It teaches Izzy what her mother will not.

As far as Izzy’s concerned, Mom’s idea of evolving is more of a devolution, akin to old school mothers who taught their girls to stay buttoned up and at home while the new guard was burning bras and breaking barriers. Izzy’s story is one of a young woman coming into her power. It’s also a story about love and acceptance. Izzy wants to be loved for who she is, sharp teeth and all. And Izzy loves- and needs- her mom. Really, that’s all Mom wants, too. The dynamics have shifted, but, as Izzy says, they’ll make a great team. Love hovers, even in the midst of chaos and carnage.

We too live on a remote mountainside, with deer, bears, and eagles our shy neighbors. Animal carcasses pock the landscape, strange and poignant monuments of decay and decomposition. Everything is consuming and being consumed; everything grows, dies, and grows again. Each season comes and goes with its distinct colors, needs, and talents, each feeding the next. Like the iconic snake that eats its tail, the uroboros, spring eats winter, winter eats fall, fall eats summer, summer eats spring.... Such is the life of a h6llb6nd6r. It made sense that Izzy and Mom would be at home in this world where physical nature closely resembles their own interior nature: brutal, instinctive, predatory; habitual, cyclical, inherent. We envisioned h6llb6nd6rs as great consumers, characterized by wide-stretched jaws and dark and cavernous eyes. We imagined ancestors at ease with the elements - fire, water, earth, and Izzy’s favorite, the air. We also wanted to replicate the cycle of death and rebirth, so our creatures are in essence one long line of the same seed. A h6llb6nd6r can only die when her daughter consumes her, and a new one is born from her death. Daughter becomes mother becomes daughter and on and on.

Lastly, we wanted to explore the notion of Hell not as a place but as a purpose, a natural counterpoint to that ethereal, sliding horizon they call heaven. If life is a pendulum, then it’s got to swing both ways, and Izzy makes peace with her place in the balance. How she uses that power remains to be seen. We like to be left wondering.