Spread 'Em

Queerness and grief are not monoliths. They often go hand in hand in entertainment and storytelling, because undeniably central to the modern LGBTQ+ experience is a collective grief of those who came before us, those who died so we could live and live openly.

But grief is inherent to the human experience, and queer people are not exempt from the many different tragic flavors of it just because we have our own unique one. Often, these other challenges arise and force us to confront the warring values within ourselves and the people we surround ourselves with. Spread ‘Em is about these conflicts; it aims to create juxtapositions between what is safe and comfortable and the things that scare us but help us grow.

Jonah and his erstwhile drag queen companion, Zelda Chic, are variations on the same solitary theme, preferring to trust themselves — and the things they know — rather than “going out on a limb.” As they learn to embrace the beautiful mess life can be, Spread ‘Em becomes something not unlike a level in a Sonic game, fast and bright and a bit messy. It’s the story of Sisyphus if he lost his grip on the boulder had to chase it down the hill.

The question is: if they don’t catch it, will there be a soft place to land? Or will they crash at the bottom? They don’t know — and that unknowingness will also be represented visually and tonally throughout.