Gregg Araki learned early that making independent films takes sheer tenacity. In film grad school at USC — then dominated by Hollywood convention — one professor told the young, hyper-stylized director he was “such a pretentious, artsy brat” and threatened to flunk him out.
“It made me, as a very young filmmaker, just extremely determined,” Araki recalls. “To make indie films, especially at the time I was making them, you just had to be a little bit crazy, so confident in yourself even though you have no right to be. You just have to have a really thick skin.”
Widely regarded as a shepherd of the New Queer Cinema movement, Araki built a cult following on films like his beloved “Teen Apocalypse Trilogy,” fusing punk energy with tender, transgressive storytelling.
Now the indie stalwart is back with a bizarre new sex comedy — a return that finds him leaning into the provocation and dark humor that made his early work a touchstone for a generation of outsider filmmakers.
