Meet the Maker:
Tanner K Williams

We had a wonderfully insightful chat with Tanner K Williams, director of Shiversucker which took the 2024 CICLOPE Awards by storm, winning Gold in Cinematography, Editing and New Talent in Music Videos.
The multiple wins for Shiversucker are all the more impressive given this was your directorial debut. Congratulations! How did this project come about?
Oof, thank you so much! Waking up on the morning of the announcement and seeing my piece next to age-old industry giants, A-list talents, and my two favourite videos of the year was entirely surreal as a newcomer who had no idea what our chances were of even getting accepted.
I had made the decision to shift into video from the stills world just a few weeks prior to my first call with Madge and I didn’t yet know what my entry point would be. It turns out most people aren’t very keen to give their money to someone who’s never made a video?? I reached out to Madge, another queer ex-Mormon who I’ve known for years, and said, “What have you got in the pipeline? I wanna make you a video.” The first demo they sent me was Shiversucker, and 20 seconds in, I knew it was it.
This video reads as a comment on your childhood, growing up queer within the Mormon Church. What did you draw inspiration from to create the darkly kitsch aesthetic and social commentary approach?
First and foremost, my own mental and physiological trauma and religious-induced OCD. I grew up in a hyper-orthodox Mormon home in Provo, Utah. I was deeply believing (brainwashed) just six years ago, which is so insane to think about. Looking back at the life I lived inside of that hateful cult is… to be quite honest, f*ing camp, the absurdity and baselessness of Mormonism writes the satire itself.
As far as inspiration, The Little Hours with Aubrey Plaza was an influence; blasphemy and religious practices paired with modern profanity and deviance is so joyful. Visually, I was inspired by the ‘no frills’ production design and colour grade of The VVitch, the melodramatic, expansive vistas of The Power of the Dog, the lighting design of Portrait of a Lady on Fire, as well as spending my childhood summers in a prohibition-era log cabin built for smuggling on the Canada/Montana border. Damn, I guess ‘gay prairie’ really is my shit.

You’ve already developed such a distinct personal style in your work, exploring “repulsion and nostalgia… the yucky and the cute”. Can you expand on what this dichotomy speaks to for you?
Hell yeah, love me a little ironic contrast. A few years ago, soon after coming out of the closet and starting to reflect on and deal with my culty upbringing, I suddenly realised that I was using a lot of carpet in my work — brown and beige carpet specifically. I had to take a step back and be like, wait, you hate the colour brown and you hate carpet, so why are you choosing these materials?
I realised that the things I detest most — the most oppressive motifs, iconography, and symbols of my upbringing — had subconsciously become the very tools I used to critique the systems and structures they represented. I leaned the f*** in. Where I grew up, everyone’s lawns were precisely mowed, and everyone smiled in public with their fake tits, perfect teeth, and balayage hair. Behind the facade was a much darker reality — rampant teen suicides, high prescription drug abuse, misogyny, racism, etc. It’s all so sad, hate-fueled, and absurdist that I feel compelled to flip it entirely on its head. If you look closely, there’s always a wink-wink in my work.
Music videos can be an immensely freeing creative playground for all those involved. Are there any particular aspects of the craft that you are keen to explore?
Listen, I know the music video industry has gone downhill—or at least changed significantly—due to TikTok-ification. BUT I think they’re still one of the most accessible ways to bring art to the masses and influence pop culture and thereby culture more broadly. I genuinely believe this art form has the power to shift things. I’m hoping to make videos that challenge norms, make people feel something new, and are part of the contemporary art dialogue — rather than regurgitate videos that end in the club with blue and pink gels.
What have you found useful to carry over to moving-image directing from your work as a stills photographer?
The edge-to-edge purposefulness of photography is something I’m stoked to be applying now to moving image. I’ve always been a fierce proponent of everything in an image being important, whether it’s something seemingly trivial or a poignant easter egg. With photo, you have limited real estate, and what you see is what you get. There are no distractions to hide shoddy work, like punchy edits, a great score, or the hotness of the talent. The ephemeral nature of video can make some directors complacent in their choices because “it’s in the background” or “you’ll only see it for a second.” I’m hoping the carefulness of my photographic background keeps me honest and engaged in every detail.
Was your first experience of directing as you imagined it to be, or in what ways did it differ from your expectations?
Going into the experience, I was so fearful I was gonna press the wrong button on the monitor or say “tilt” when I meant “pan,” and that everyone would think I was a green little idiot! I was really hung up on the small things — tiny logistics that ultimately do not a good director make. My first scene on the first day of Shiversucker changed all that, I immediately realised all the large crew, hectic-ass print jobs I’d already shot had prepared me specifically for this moment. While I have much to learn and many mentors, peers, and experiences to grow from, I know what I want in a scene, and I’ve got the instinct to make it happen. Mostly, I just learned that I can trust myself. I’m sure I’ll still say “tilt” when I mean “pan,” but alas.

You and Madge have been longtime collaborators, and there’s clearly a lot of trust that’s been built in your creative partnership. What other production factors helped you realise the bold direction of Shiversucker?
Just like you said: trust, longtime friendships and an all-star team. There has always been an inherent trust between Madge and myself. This was a collaboration they were willing to let me run mostly free with, which I’ll forever be grateful for.
Secondly, Magen Ashley Young, my creative producer came to me and asked me to work with her. Because I had no video portfolio to match her endless CV, I politely declined. I felt like too much of a small fry. Persistent as she is, a few weeks later she grabbed this project by the balls and made everything else happen—she’s a juggernaut and one of the most talented people I’ve ever met.
Then Bentley Rawle, my DP, the cool, hot it-boy from my neighbouring high school, a massively talented cinematographer and fellow ex-Mormon, also reached out. The belief that those two had in my ability to direct, before I had ever done it, was the biggest factor in being able to pull this off. And lastly, the rest of our crew was just so phenomenal—there was magic in the air even at 5 a.m. in Agua Dulce. The mostly queer and ex-Mormon crew believed this video deserved to be made and were ecstatic about making it happen.
How do you imagine your next steps as a director?
I’m so incredibly pleased to share that I’ve joined the roster at magna studios for North America and the UK—they know exactly where I plan to go and want to take that psychotic journey with me. I’m so emo and grateful and honored that CICLOPE has brought me all it has in such a short amount of time. It’s been deeply important for me personally, especially in this spooky time in the industry. I’ve got 20ish videos already written and all I can say is – I’ve never been more ready to f*ing go.