Blog Post #262: A Trio of Films by David Bush!

During my initially tranquil, later stormy time at University of Central Florida in the late 2000s, I occasionally found myself in the company and/or earshot of some rather brilliant young men and women. Among them was one David Bush, who I often overheard discussing writing craft and intelligently assailing uncritically assumed cultural ideas. We interacted on a few occasions at UCF but it wasn't until the late 2010s, well after our time at university, that I realized his commitment to cinema was more fervent and earnest than many of our former classmates. Learning that his feature directorial debuts were taking the form of TV movies for the Lifetime network, I eagerly shared about his accomplishments on social media and found them a great source of rear smoke for my own feature film ambitions yet to materialize.

When David released his first indie (non-Lifetime) feature film Phony, I watched it attentively several times and published a review of the film on my website blog here. So fond for this handily more authentic feature debut from David, I even incorporated an analysis of Phony in an essay as part of my application to Harvard University and University of Washington in 2022 (sadly, I was rejected by both). You can find that essay here.

From a distance (he's based in New Orleans) and with minimal interaction (we occasionally exchange messages and react to each other's social media posts), David remains one of the most inspiring and fecund contemporaries I am lucky to know. Accordingly, I am now writing about three films of his he directed during some of the most restrictive months of the COVID-19 pandemic and which finally saw release this year and last. This unique trio of films were produced back-to-back-to-back; that alone an amazing feat of coordination, resourcefulness and creative stamina! With sizable yet modest budgets and filmed using overlapping locations, these films are each discrete cinematic expressions but all tied together by a remarkable talent clearly interested in making fruitful use of his time and circumstances. So, on with the reviews:

They Whisper (2024) is a 90-minute supernatural horror film about a mysterious mine shaft and a family dealing with the seeming spiritual possession of their young son following his fall into the derelict chasm. The film stars Malcolm Goodwin, Dax Rey and Fran Kranz.

I found They Whisper a serviceable thriller with committed performances by all of the actors involved and a consistent ratcheting-up of tension as the film progresses. They Whisper stands with the latter-released Viridian as one of the two films in David Bush's indie canon to date that does not rely on a domineering narrator, reliable or not, to guide the viewer through the dramatic proceedings. The lack of this particular touch grounds the film in a more conventional manner and subjects the viewer to a more ambiguous mode of participation where observing behavior is the focal point more than following a given characters' explicit rhetoric or commentary throughout. Beyond that aspect, I also appreciated a touch of racial antagonism which seems to reside just below the surface of the film's narrative between the two families in conflict.

Half Lives (2024) is an 89-minute comedic, psychological thriller about a man who's built an underground bunker to house a small group of survivors after an apocalyptic disaster. The film stars Fran Kranz, Malcolm Goodwin and Kimberly Daugherty.

David Bush excels in the written word. This is observed in his shared capacity as a published author, his prodigious number of completed feature screenplays, his quarterly newsletter, his extensive professional experience as a script supervisor and his flowing wit and invention as evidenced on social media. Half Lives revels in Bush's penchant for lingual acrobatics as we follow a verbose, articulate man grappling with his sanity and relationships with the inhabitants of his claustrophobic bunker. As with They Whisper, the viewer experiences a relentless ramping up of intensity and uncertainty; in this case, as severity and doubt arise about the veracity of our protagonist's very perception. This mercuriality of truth leads to one of the most cleverly staged and poignant scenes I've ever seen from a contemporary of mine. At the risk of spoiling it, I'll simply say that it involves a clever vertical staging of characters who may or may not be what they seem. All this proves that Bush is squarely in his element on this film. A must-see of his.

Viridian (2025) is an 87-minute suspenseful thriller-drama about a family hunting trip that goes wrong when a stranger is shot. The films stars Hannah Alline, T.C. Matherne (from Bush's Phony) and Glenn Morshower.

As with Half Lives, the film effectively mobilizes a rather spare amount of elements throughout; both essentially chamber pieces with a handful of characters alone in a confining environment. As with the two other films, the narrative draws the viewer along with care and calculation as mysteries unfold and multiply. Mileage may vary but I found the development of the drama plenty alluring and the performances of the actors more than facilitative, particularly when some rather spicy, taboo revelations come to light later. On the directing craft side, a number of long-takes or oners pleasingly diverted some attention away from the usual emphasis on the writing. On that note, I also admired some choice art direction involved in realizing a dreamy quality to a character's private study which plays a key function in the story.

If you're interested in an impressive flex from one of the most interesting, exciting writer-directors in the American Southeast, go no further than David Bush's trilogy of Viridian, Half Lives and They Whisper. They're the promising work of an accomplished wordsmith and coming-up director as well as a testament to a thriftiness and tenacity amid pandemically fraught times. The films are available on all the streaming services where most indie films are found.