Three years ago I was working on another script, an erotic thriller set in the Adirondacks of upstate New York where I've spent the summers since I was a kid. I was growing frustrated with its progress so I lay down to take a nap. While asleep I had a disturbing vision of a strange, red-suited being that crawled out of a mountain lake, went inside a house and sat down with a small boy. The boy sat on the creature's lap with an almost familial sense of comfort mixed with curiosity. He picked lake weeds off the red fabric of his body suit the way a chimpanzee grooms its mate. The creature patted the boy on the shoulder. And then the camera of my mind's eye panned up to the creature's head - a blank bulb of fabric, no face…no features whatsoever. The boy's expression froze and then subtly, slowly pulled back into a death mask of sheer terror.

     That something so simple, so empty - a blank face - could produce such an awesome reaction intrigued me. And yet when the boy was not looking at the creature's face there was comfort, not fear. Why? I knew that this boy and the creature were somehow related, yet thoroughly alien to each other. I quickly wrote a 20 page short off the top of my head that put a narrative to the creature's existence. An introverted boy brings to life his video game character to defend himself against his dysfunctional family; a distant father, an overbearing mother, a bullying older brother. Two years later I finished the expansion of that short into a feature script - 'Mister Gimp'.

     Mister Gimp is a story about a topic I have an endless fascination with - identity. Who are we? What are we capable of? What is our shadow? Can we get rid of our shadow? What happens when our shadow gets rid of us...? The arena is the family. A tangled web of relationships that when taken to its logical max, effortlessly glides into the realm of horror. Mister Gimp - the creature, the film - is emotional horror made real and concrete before our very eyes. A little boy's pain and loneliness, normally swept under the carpet and told to stop daydreaming, now stands six feet tall, ready to kick and scream and punch and even... kill? The ones we love?

     The power of this story is that the monster is not some alien from outer space or a lab accident gone wrong, it is quite literally us. Everyone has a Gimp inside them, waiting to come out, ready to split away and live its own curious life. There is great power and potential in the shadow. The genie will not go back in the bottle this time. Perhaps it should never have been there in the first place.

     - Miska Draskoczy

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