For many horror fans, Elric Kane is one-half of the curatorial superstar duo of the Colors of the Dark podcast. Together with Dr. Rebekah McKendry, Kane has provided more than a decade of consistently great horror reviews and recommendations. As a podcaster, he’s interviewed many of the industry’s most important names and provided an important platform to some filmmaking newcomers.

Taste is subjective, but a co-sign from either host on Colors of the Dark is a badge of horror honor. Kane and McKendry worked tirelessly to advocate for our beloved genre, and both should rightly be heralded as ambassadors and authorities.

After listening to Kane across several different podcasts for the past several years, we were thrilled by the chance to discuss with him his new movie, The Dead Thing. In it, today’s dating landscape is shown as the clinical, detached ritual it is- an arm of technological transaction much more than human connection. Elric was kind enough to spend time answering our many questions about this fascinating release, and the discussion gave us a deeper appreciation for his movie, its inspirations, and what it has to say about modern living.

Elric, in an article on MovieMaker.com, you said that while you're working on a film, you have "no time to watch movies or even reflect too much on such things." Do you feel a rhythm as a filmmaker, where you swing between absorbing and producing? Now that The Dead Thing is out, do you feel like you need to swallow a whole new series of influences before you're ready to make something else?

I think influences are very fluid and have been soaking in my entire film-watching life. I’m often still most influenced by those films that I saw between 16-22 years old, when you're most receptive to new ideas. Lynch, Kubrick, Polanski and Argento were all new for me then and shaped how I saw the images I wanted to make.

While you’re actually in production, you don’t have that kind of reflective time, so you’re not actively trying to conjure those influences; they’re just ingrained in how you see things by that stage. Sometimes the writing stage is a good time to soak up new films, but because that is such a big part of my other life as a film podcaster, I am just always watching crazy stuff. I do tend to have a kind of Northstar for each project- a flavor or filmmaker that helps you keep that aim on something unique.

We read over on Fangoria that you aimed to make the most out of available resources by making a modern, "doable" movie. Did anything in telling this story reshape how you feel about this particular social subject?

The production of the film definitely solidified my feelings about things, and working with a younger cast who use these apps helped refine some of our ideas. But ultimately, the feeling of being taken over by these technologies that are supposed to connect us, but ultimately can alienate and depress us, remains firm. One of the opening images, of a woman lying in bed looking at various men's images on her phone, instead of staring at a real partner, felt like the key to this feeling. I remember seeing a Facebook post from someone who had died months before popping up in my feed, and thinking how strange the digital echo after death still lingers and changes grieving in a way, as no one is fully gone-gone like they used to be And that filtered its way into things, too.

An influence you've cited that we're completely unfamiliar with is Ulli Lommel. The trailer for his movie, The Boogeyman, played before your movie at the New Bev, and I hadn't ever heard of him before. What is it about his work that resonates with you and shapes some of The Dead Thing?

Well, I’m definitely not influenced in general by his work! It is often pretty ugly and a bit cheap. He hasn’t got the best reputation as a director, but he was an actor in Fassbinder’s troupe for a while, and he does have a couple of interesting movies. But The Boogeyman came back to me because I remembered its great and disturbing use of mirror shots for its entity scenes, and that is what I went back to rewatch before production. One of the reasons I am so fond of loving high- and low-brow cinema is that there are jewels in each. Maybe less in some, but most films I’ve seen have a scene or moment that is worth noting, and The Boogeyman had a nastiness and those mirror scenes.

You've spoken about how the initial drafts of The Dead Thing were more skeletal than what we see onscreen now, and that specifically, the character Alex wasn't maybe as fleshed out as she is in the movie. What, specifically, did actress Blu Hunt bring to the table that gave Alex a more lived-in feel?

She just brought Alex to life. She poured parts of her real self, from her wardrobe to her own drawings, as well as certain emotional things she was going through in the moment, and allowed them into the character. This makes Alex feel real to me, and that was critical, as the design of the film was to always stay close to the character and make it her own. I don’t think every film requires this process, but I knew from the start that was what we needed, so casting was critical, and somehow I got my first choice for the role. She also renamed our dating app and chewed us out for our original lame name we had used!

Has there been anything you've learned as a film teacher that you brought to this project? Do you feel like any particular student interactions inspired anything in this story?

My life goal has been to immerse myself in film, so if I need to make a living while I chase my cinematic dreams, I would rather teach film than anything else, as it keeps me thinking deeper about film and how it works. I did reach a moment where I started to think a lot of the advice I was giving younger filmmakers was BS, because I wasn’t making my own work. So, [that] was part of my motivation: to focus on getting my own films made and use all the advice I was giving as a teacher, and of course, ignore half of it.

In recent years, I was pushing students to make cheap indie features over expensive shorts as a way to break in, as surviving a feature of any kind is an achievement. So, I felt the need to prove I could still do it myself.

We'd love to learn about your working relationship with co-writer Webb Wilcoxen. Are you passing a script back and forth, with each adding onto it, or do you both serve separate roles in the writing process? How does that collaborative process compare to, say, your work with Dr. McKendry or Brian Saur?

Well, the podcasts are so different as they aren’t as reliant on creativity- they are more of a simple framework for each episode, and fill in the blanks. So, while I enjoy those collaborations, the final product is far less precious. It’s basically disposable content that you do every couple of weeks. And while it is meaningful, it requires less agonizing over.

I met Webb on the set of a film he co-wrote called The Frontier, a neo-noir that a mutual friend was directing. As soon as we started talking horror, we fell in step with each other fast and have been collaborating ever since. He is a PURE writer and can just sit there and get it done, and I only agonize through the process so I have something to film.

So our relationship is often me steering the direction and tone to make sure it’s something I would still want to make and visualize, while his writing voice becomes the voice of the script. Lots of back and forth on calls during the ideating, and I often feel like an editor more than a writer when we are actually writing the script.

But both our fingerprints and ideas are all over what we do, and we have a nice shorthand when we talk about ideas now. The film I hope to make next was one we wrote together prior to The Dead THing, and we just returned to it years later and rewrote it completely. It was like updating a script to where you are now in your life. Really interesting process.

The indie filmmaking process can really fly by in a crazy blur. Was there any particular part that you felt was your favorite? Was there anything you did to stay present? Anything you wish you could redo and enjoy more?

When everyone is locked in, to pull off something unusual, it is really exciting to me. Whether it was a stunt scene or our complicated pool oner, to have an entire group of people focused on solving something is a real high.

My favorite were our ethereal love scenes, as they were the closest thing to what I had in my head of a feeling that was hard to verbalize and complicated to film. We had a jib going up and down on a bed and four guys lifting our actress on a gurney to make it seem like she was floating, and to the naked eye, it would’ve just looked ridiculous. But once those elements come together, you make it feel real.

It’s always hard to discuss what you would redo on a finished film, but I do wish I had a few more hours to film some of our finale on our last day. Time is always the killer! Staying present is the job of the director, and it’s easier said than done. But paying close attention to the performances and getting less pulled into the technical concerns is the best way to stay in the moment. Actors bring so much life to the work, they can be a lifeline if you get lost in all the noise.

A lot of your interviews about The Dead Thing mention urban legends, with the film contributing to this tradition of a "I know a girl who..."-style, almost creepypasta-type story. Are there any favorite tales that influenced you beyond cinema?

It’s been a hard project to protect as the hook itself is a spoiler, but somehow even the trailer didn’t reveal the twist/premise of the film. But it was always the idea of what a modern version of an urban legend would be for the digital age. I imagine the first office worker in our film at a bar after the events of the film, telling Alex’s story from his point of view like an urban legend. Perhaps in a sequel!.

As a kid, I LOVED urban legends and ghost stories, and they were largely what got me deeper into horror. But the key was my Mum telling me a true ghost story that happened to her when she was at College. It was a super creepy story, and she doesn’t believe at all in the paranormal. So when she told it to me as a kid, I just took it for having to be true. She still can’t explain it, and there’s nothing scarier than a skeptic telling you a ghost story. That could be why I spend so long grounding our story in everyday realism, as I don’t want it to feel fantastic or impossible. It had to feel real. If I ever see you over a drink, I’ll tell you my Mum’s ghost story in person.

Your taste in particular is one of the reasons we love the Colors of the Dark podcast. Listeners can rely on Rebekah's love for aquatic horror, but we can't rarely predict whether you'll like a certain movie or not. Were there any matters of taste in the production process where you really had to double down and trust your instincts?

Making anything in this ilk is a really bold decision. Were there any other choices you feel only you would make that shaped The Dead Thing? In watching it, are there any aspects you see that make you say, "There's me! This is what makes it an Elric Kane movie"?

I would say that’s the kind of question someone else almost needs to answer. I think the way I frame shots and design the feel of the film is the “me” of the film, but it’s also working with other creatives to achieve that effect.

I just saw it as a story about someone desperately trying to connect and hold on once she does. By approaching it that way, I wasn’t worried about the tropes of that subgenre getting in the way. I admit my taste is pretty random as I can fluctuate between slow cinema and goopy practical effects madness, but there’s always that intangible thing you are hoping to discover in a film as a viewer, and I hoped to bring a couple of those moments in my own work. Hopefully, it will be easier to see these patterns after the next film!

The Dead Thing is available to stream on Shudder, or for purchase on Apple TV+ and Amazon Prime.