Glenn Payne of Tupelo is a multihyphenate independent filmmaker who directs, writes, produces, edits and often acts in his projects. He’s made feature films like 2019’s award-winning Drive, the web comedy series Stargrassle Paranormal, and numerous short films. He’s also an accomplished visual artist as well as an improv comedy performer with the Tupelo -based troupe West of Shake Rag.
What’s your background, and what path led you to working in film?
I was born in Jacksonville, Tennessee. My dad is from North Mississippi. He was in the Navy. We moved back when I was very, very small to Blue Springs, where I’ve lived for most of my life, and Tupelo is home now.
I was always an art kid, drawing constantly. I went to Northeast Community College for art and then Mississippi State after that. I studied painting and drawing. At the time they had a computer animation program, which I was excited to join. But they pulled the plug on it like the semester I showed up. So I had to pivot and stayed with fine art, which I’m glad happened that way.
My last semester at Mississippi State, I had an intro to film history course with Dr. Ben Harvey and he let us make a short film for our final exam if we wanted to give it a shot. I made this awful little thing with no dialogue at all. But I got really fascinated by the process and slowly began to get addicted to filmmaking, just making things on my own with a little bitty $100 or so camera from Walmart and then slowly trying to grow from there. That’s my super villain origin story. (laughs)
I made a lot of shorts on my own with family and then I started meeting other collaborators when I joined an improv group in Tupelo. I started meeting actors, and then I started slowly finding other people that were making films on their own too. Technology was tougher to come by at the time. I made a lot of stuff at first that is those kind of films you really don’t want anyone to go back and watch.
Then I made a short film called The Fall of Henry. It was one of the first films where things really started coming together. It was something I felt proud of and wanted to let someone else watch, although there’s still a million things I would have changed about it now. That was one of the first ones that made me feel like we were starting to get a hold on things, you know?
That was 2011. Michael Williams and Casey Dillard worked on that. Michael was the DP, and I think it was the first film he ever DP’d for someone else. Casey wrote it and we’ve collaborated a lot over the years. Heather Roebuck was there too. It was one of the first that felt like a real team and that people had found the roles they really wanted to do. That was exciting. We kept making short films, all of us working on each other’s projects. Then about three years later, we made my sci-fi feature film Earthrise and Michael Williams’ feature Ozland. They were kind of like sister films happening at the same time that year.
You have a film screening at the inaugural Fisheye Film Festival in Ocean Springs, how did that come about?
Over the last few years, I’ve gotten a little more into teaching workshops, especially introducing teens to filmmaking and the career opportunities in Mississippi. Usually, we’ll make a film for those classes with the students. I teamed up with the Walter Anderson Museum of Art in Ocean Springs and taught a week-long workshop there. And we made a short documentary called River City Voices that dealt with flooding in their area, especially in Moss Point. A lot of what they do at the museum involves both science and art, which I think is cool because I got to experience things that were different than what I would normally be doing myself. So, the students worked on that, and I helped show them the ropes and guided them through the process. It really turned out well and got the community involved.
Another workshop I’ve done is the Sunflower County Film Academy in Cleveland. We’ve done it for three years. We’re taking a year off this year, but hopefully we’ll be back going next year. It’s my little home away from home during June. That’s another one that’s focused on teens in that area. We’ve had some really good groups and done some interesting projects. I’ve also done a week-long workshop in Tupelo through the Link Centre as well as some one-to-two-day pop-up workshops for both adults or kids.
What are some of your other recent projects?
I have three feature films potentially coming out this same year, which is not how you should do it. I would not recommend. (laughs) That’s just the way things worked out, a couple got delayed, life happened, etc.
I have a ghost hunting documentary about the Lyric Theater in Tupelo, Mississippi, called The Most Haunted Theater in America. If anyone wants to contest that, hey, we can talk about it. (laughs) And then a thriller called Safe and Sound, which I made with Greg Gray, a filmmaker out of Memphis. We made that a few years ago, sort of a suspenseful Hitchcockian film. I’m excited that it’s finally coming out. And then there’s Alien Eyes, I guess you’d call it the biggest film I’ve made scope-wise and logistically. It required a lot of people and a lot of moving parts. But what was great about it was I made it so if anyone in the community wanted to get involved, they could and were welcome to do so, whether they wanted to come be an extra or come help decorate sets, because there was so much set design in the film. It’s sort of an alien slasher, so a lot of people get excited about those elements, too. So many people got to be involved, and I was very thankful for that. It very much had a community kind of feel to it, which was really, really nice. That should be a really fun time when we finally get around to screening it.
The hardest part for a lot of filmmakers is distribution. How have you had successes in the past with that?
I have a few different distributors that I’ve worked with over the years. But it takes a lot of research to make sure you pick the right partner. A lot goes into that. And distribution keeps changing so dramatically and so quickly with streaming services that it’s changing not only viewing in America, but internationally, too. The way things used to be divided domestically and internationally has changed quite a bit from what I’ve been familiar with. I’m using a company called Indie Rights that I’ve used for four films or so for at least one of the new ones. We’ll figure it out with the other two. It is nice when you have someone that you know how they work and what their flow is, and you have that kind of communication already built in. But it is a very strange time distribution wise, and the returns you can get for films keeps changing. What streaming does or doesn’t pay changes rapidly, too.
Is there anyone you’ve worked with that you consider a mentor?
I definitely have a mentor in the fine art realm, Brent Funderburk at MSU. But in filmmaking, I think it’s just more of a collection of experiences with everyone I’ve worked with. Because when I started making films, and this is true for some of the other guys too, I didn’t know of anyone else doing it. I would have been thrilled to have someone who knew what they were doing that I could have picked their brain, to show me what mistakes I was making in advance, but I kind of just had to make the mistakes myself. So, other than being inspired by peers and fellow filmmakers, I think that’s the closest thing in the film world to a mentor for me. Of course, I had my favorite directors that were already very noteworthy and famous that I pulled a lot from. Not that I got to talk to them on the phone and they gave me any advice or anything… (laughs) I gobbled up every DVD commentary I could find, that’s for sure.
With your fine art and improv work, how do those things inform each other and inform your filmmaking?
As a painter and drawer, I used to travel the country before I got further into film. I traveled selling artwork at art festivals, outdoor shows a lot, and I would do galleries as well. I still have a painting studio, I still make work. It’s definitely less rapid than before, because film is sort of the primary thing now. I’m always exploring how I can use painting to counter filmmaking in a way that is therapeutic. Because, logistically, there’s so much involved in filmmaking with scheduling and making sure everything’s planned and feeding people and insurance and hotels and getting the shots and “where’s the sun?” It is nice to go back to the painting studio and it’s just me in a room alone, you know? A lot less hectic. At the same time, I would then get starved for socializing with other people because I like people. So, I’ll get bored to death in there, too. (laughs) It is nice bouncing back and forth.
I’ve been doing improv since 2009 or so with our group West of Shake Rag in Tupelo. We went to Second City as part of Chicago Improv Festival back in the day and studied under some mentors there. And I moved to both Chicago and L.A. briefly, and I really dived into the scene in Chicago, improv-wise. But I do shows regularly at the Link Center in Tupelo. I also do lots of film and art stuff there as well. But improv I love so much because unlike film, it’s so instantaneous. You get instant gratification. But it’s also similar because it’s almost like you’re writing, acting and editing a movie instantaneously on stage. You’re performing, you’re coming up with dialogue, you’re crafting a story, especially if you’re doing long form, and there’s usually a character arc of some sort, they’re facing a challenge, and you’re wiping from one scene to the next, so you’re editing. It’s some of the same things, but in a very different medium.
The paranormal and unexplained seems to be a particular interest of yours. How did you get involved with that?
When I was a teenager, the show Ghost Hunters was blowing up. I remember watching that, and I always thought paranormal investigation was very interesting. And then strangely enough, Casey Dillard, myself and Chris Counts, who was in our improv group, put together a show called Stargrassle Paranormal, which is this comedy ghost hunting show. But it was more focused on the characters and how ridiculous they were, along the lines of The Office or Parks and Recreation. They were ghost hunting in a small southern town. But I didn’t do any actual ghost hunting or paranormal investigating at that point. And now you fast forward years later, in the last few years, I’ve been going on actual investigations and getting to see some of that firsthand. It’s pretty fascinating and I’ve seen some interesting things. And now I have a documentary coming out about a paranormal investigation in Tupelo, and then another one we did, which I haven’t edited yet. God knows when I’ll be able to do that. In Eureka Springs, we went to a couple of well-known, historic hotels there that are very active. I tried to carry over my filmmaking experience, direction-wise to that, while also just embracing the experience. I’ve always been a fan of any sort of thriller, paranormal, offbeat content–Twilight Zone, old black and white episodes. I still watch those regularly.
You’ve also done commercial work, does that help fund your passion projects?
Yeah, that’s pretty much how that works. I still do commercial work, things that I’ll produce and direct in the northeast Mississippi area. I’ve thought many times about focusing more on that and building that up more. But then again, I don’t want it to take away too much from my scripted filmmaking endeavors. I do commercials as they come. But it is cool that the same gear crosses over from making a movie to making commercials. You can more easily talk yourself into buying more equipment because you’re like, oh, I could use that on this commercial coming up and that’s a business thing. (laughs) So you must be careful and not go crazy on purchases, but you do get to practice some of the same skill sets, but in a very different manner, usually at a more laid back and slower pace.
I mostly do my own thing, but I will work on other indie projects and commercial projects. Because you can learn so much. I was watching a gaffer on a hospital commercial. Like, oh, that’s cool, they light it that way. I may steal that later. (laughs) Or getting to try out a different camera. You can observe while you’re working. I do like to do that, but I don’t do it constantly just because I have so much other stuff I’m trying to do myself. It’s a weird fine line of providing yourself with a living but also leaving yourself time to pursue your own dreams and put in the time that is required to make those things happen.
What advice would you have for a filmmaker who wants to go out on their own and develop their own projects?
I wish somebody had told me this before I started, but I think it’s incredibly valuable to make a lot of short films for as little money as possible. Just so that you’re not hurting yourself financially while you learn. Don’t approach it like I’m making one movie in my whole life, and it’s going to be a huge investment. Think of it more like you’re making paintings or a pot on the pottery wheel – it takes practice. Get some friends that are very interested too or find some you can team up with and learn from their projects. Work on short films so you can practice the technical side of things. You can make some mistakes there. You can practice different genres, work with different actors, different cinematographers, be the cinematographer yourself, learn how to run sound, do every department. So later you can appreciate them and have a base understanding of what those departments need to do and how hard it is. If you’ve run sound and then you later have someone else booming a shot and you hold a 7-minute take that they’re trembling over, they’re sweating, dying, you will remember that it hurts and take care of them a little bit more!
Why would you tell someone that Mississippi is a good place to make movies?
I genuinely feel more inspired here and in small town settings. I don’t know why, I did dabble with other cities. Like I said, I went to Los Angeles for a very short amount of time and Chicago as well. I don’t know if it’s because I’m from a small town and that’s just in my blood, but I didn’t feel as inspired. I felt drained. I was like, okay, that’s not for me, and I came right back home to Mississippi, and instantly saw more inspiration in things here. And the communities are so supportive. They’re not jaded themselves by it or used to the business, so to speak. You can get other people very involved in your projects on a community level, whether you’re getting locations or asking for volunteers for this or that, people get excited. And that’s good for you because you can get more things you can afford more easily, but also it lets them be a part of something different that they can be very excited about too. And I think when it’s a win-win like that, that’s great.
In that spirit of collaboration, a lot of indie filmmakers utilize crowdfunding, which you’ve done for Alien Eyes. What advice can you offer on that?
When it comes to crowdfunding, I think it’s important to be realistic with what kind of reach you might have, because I feel that mostly you’re going to be hitting your own social circles. You may occasionally have some complete strangers stumble upon your fundraiser, though. Think of what might appeal to your audience as far as perks and things you can give out. I think in the early days of Kickstarter and others, you could raise quite a bit, because it was brand new and exciting for everyone. I think now it’s harder to raise larger amounts of money that way. But if you use every method you have at your disposal, between your own money, grants, fundraising and investors, then you can piece together a decent budget.
What would your hopes for the future of the industry here in the state be?
It’d be great to see more productions continue to come into the state that work well with the artists that are already here. There’s always that infrastructure thing where we need more and more crew members and available gear, those things that entice people to come here. But it’d be great if in the future, and I know this is way easier said than done, if there was some kind of micro-budget threshold that offered something to homegrown filmmakers doing projects under the film incentive’s $50,000 minimum, which I realize is already crazy low nationwide. Maybe there’s a local version of the rebate that could be for short films and smaller productions for filmmakers working with microbudgets. It could be a cool way to help grow the infrastructure, get more people involved, and have more homegrown projects.
Anything else you’d like to mention – a fourth talent no one knows about, maybe?
No, that’s it. That’s all I can do. I don’t sing and I don’t dance.
How can people connect with you?
My website is glennpayne.com, and I’m @glennematic on Instagram and Youtube.
