There’s so much one can do with body horror in animated form. Case in point, Peter Ahern’s short animated nightmare, Buzzkill. Who can’t relate to the unrelenting agony of having something in your eye that you just can’t seem to fish out, no matter what you do? Buzzkill takes this to the extreme. And then takes it a little further. The FANGORIA team caught this one at last year’s Fantastic Fest, and we are all equally horrified and overjoyed. I guess you could say, we walked out of the theater… buzzing about it. Part romantic comedy, part well… how about we let Buzzkill writer, director, and animator Peter Ahern give you the rundown. Take it away, Peter.
The Inception
The idea began with a rogue eyelash. I was going through a period in my life where I constantly had stuff in my eyes, always running to the closest mirror to fish something out. Once, I could feel an eyelash but couldn’t find itโfor days. It became increasingly unbearable to the point where I was pressed up against a mirror, squishing my eyeball around violently to find the culprit. Finally, the tip of a lash surfaced from beneath my eyeball. As I gingerly edged it out, I got teleported to this moment of adrenaline, disgust, horror, and pleasure (so many emotions at once), and my mind started to race: “What if this isn’t an eyelash, but the start of something bigger? What if it’s the leg of a bug?” The idea stuck with me, and I began doodling eyeballs with bugs crawling out of them. Ultimately, I wrote a scenario where this situation might exist, and Buzzkill was born! My projects are usually inspired by images or situations I get stuck in my head, then I work backwards to sort out a justification for them to exist.
The Production
The production was off and on for several years as I chipped away at the short between commercial work.
It started in 2018 when I took some time off to set up the project’s blueprint. I wrote the script, designed the characters and environments, and storyboarded it. I made an “animatic,” editing the storyboards together to create a rough version of the entire film. Then I added in temporary dialogue recordings, sound effects, and bits of old film scores from movies like Return of the Living Dead and The Breakfast Club to flesh it out. I sent the animatic around to friends and colleagues for feedback, but the project largely stalled once I returned to my commercial commitments. People in my circles knew about it, though, and they’d often ask, “When are you going to actually make Buzzkill?”
Fast forward to 2020, when NYC had gone into lockdown. I suddenly had all this downtime, and my husband encouraged me to dust off Buzzkill and finally get the ball rolling again. I started plugging away at it on nights and weekends, but progress was moving very slow. In an effort to speed things up, I paused freelancing and spent five months working full-time on the animation to get it done. Afterward, I spent a few months in post-production, making everything look and sound sleek. Compressing the project’s entire timeline was probably a year’s total effort, but it took a little over two. That might sound bonkers when you realize thousands of hours only equates to five minutes of content, but unfortunately, traditional animation is very labor-intensive without many shortcuts. You have to accept the complexity of the craft.
The key to animation is to stay organized. You want to avoid ending up with anything deleted or cut once it’s toiled over, so it’s best to lock down the storyboarded edit in pre-production before beginning. I approached the project as economically as possible since I knew I’d be handling the animation myself. The designs are simple, the character movements are fairly limited, and I tried to create a tempo through editing rather than on-screen action. Buzzkill has a lot of individual shots for such a short film, about eighteen cuts per minute, which helps the film chug along at a really kinetic pace.
The Animation Technique
Buzzkill is a 2D animation, sometimes referred to as traditional or cel animation. Each second of the film consists of twelve frames of animation (3500 individual drawings for the whole film), which I drew by hand using a stylus and a large graphics tablet. The process requires several passes on each shot – first, you sketch out the characters and action, making sure the timing beats feel right. Then you retrace the rough animation, creating clean lines for each drawing. Finally, you rewind it all again and go through filling in the colors. It can be both tedious and zen, but there’s no better feeling than playing back a completed shot and seeing those drawings come to life.
I’ve worked for a dozen years in the 2D animation industry, and it’s a technique that’s really charming and captivating. I love the little wobbles and flickers that signal the medium is the work of an actual artist and not a machine. It’s magic.
Designing The Look
Creating the look of the film was a challenge. I wanted a bold palette because I was watching a lot of recent horror that seemed washed out and dull – you don’t need to desaturate a story’s visuals for it to be creepy! I knew blasting the short with color would take a lot of skill to pull off, but I lacked a solid grasp on the language of design and color. I knew that when you soak everything in vibrant tones, it becomes more difficult for the viewer to know what to focus on, especially in flat 2D animation where there isn’t a depth of field to break up the image.
Luckily my background designer, Stephen Andolino (Jentry Chau vs The Underworld), is a master at color theory, and he managed to balance our compositions while harmonizing the details to give it a really slick, broadcast-quality polish. Our own little deranged Saturday morning cartoon. I think the effort paid off because few realized our animation/art department was only two people.
Creating The Performances
Before animating anything, you have to record all the dialogue so voice tracks exist to dictate the characters’ acting. I was lucky to get Kelly McCormack (A League Of Their Own Series) to voice Becky. She’s such a pro, and her performance really carries the film. We had collaborated a million years ago on my senior thesis short, Down to the Bone, where she also voiced one of the leads, so it was such a blast to team up again after all this time.
When I wrote Buzzkill back in 2018, I approached her about playing the lead, but she was bouncing around the world filming other projects, and we could never align our schedules to record in person. After Covid hit and everything screeched to a halt, we approached the proposition again and decided to try recording lines remotely. It was a daunting idea at first, but it turned out to be a great experience! Kelly has such an amazing way of emoting through her voice, whether she’s acting sweet or crazed, her tone always sounds very genuine. We really needed that sincerity to ground the character amongst the escalating chaos, and she totally nails it.
Regarding my voicing Rick’s character, I never intended to play the part. Early on, I had recorded his dialogue as a temp track and planned to replace it later with a real actor, but once we cut Kelly’s recording against mine, everything fit. Why add another thing to do? This works. It was convenient too, because I could re-record myself on a whim if we wanted to add a new line or adjust a take.
After locking the vocals, I dove into animating. I tried to complete one shot daily, but ultimately the workload would depend on the shot’s context. Action shots are typically much quicker to create because when there’s lots of fast movement, you don’t need to draw as many frames to convey the motion. It’s the slow and subtle shots that take forever. I spent three days on a seven-second shot of the characters attempting to kiss: two days animating each character separately and another day making adjustments so they interacted correctly. Animators are masochists.
The Tone
The film’s tone was a tricky tightrope to balance with a new thematic gear shift happening every minute or so. We start off tender and corny, then things get pretty suspicious before the lid blows off, and everything becomes manic. Eventually, the romance elements return, and things get really mushy. Did I mention the short is only five minutes?
I really enjoyed staging the body horror sequences, trying to make things feel dangerous and desperate. In reality, I cringe at people touching their eyes, so I knew those moments would be a hit.
The script didn’t have much physical comedy or jokes, but there’s something in the character performances and reactions that people get a kick out of. I tried to telegraph to viewers that they were in for a fun, stupid ride.
The Sound Design
When sound designing animation, you have to build everything from scratch. There’s no on-set production sound. And it was important to me that Buzzkill sounded natural and realistic to help sell the situation. Luckily, my husband, Arjun G. Sheth (Fire Island), is a professional sound designer/mixer, so I knew this aspect of production would get a lot of care and attention. He put in subtle recordings like clothing rustles, breaths, and squishes that make the world feel very immersive. Not to mention the time he spent on the insectsโ their hissing buzz is so visceral and really makes my skin crawl.
The Score
Years ago, my composer, Maxwell Sorensen, had done this great Carpenter-esque soundtrack for another friend’s animated pilot (The Haunted Ride On Mt. Misery), and I always thought he’d be a good fit for Buzzkill because he could ride the line between fun and scary. When he came aboard, we discussed a few score references, and then he took off and ran with it. The challenge for Maxwell was creating several condensed musical themes that still flowed together amongst the film’s constant tone flips and twists. He recorded the score on a vintage Moog synth, which added its own character with this warm, organic sound. The audio feels more authentic than a digital creation.
I worked with a Brooklyn-based glam-rocker named Nat Brower for the end credit theme. I wanted an original power track that would act like a release, something with a blast of energy. He cranked out this tiny banger we dubbed “Jaguar Blonde” that encourages the audience to ride the film’s high and make some noise. It’s a catchy tune!
The Reception + ALTER
Seeing Buzzkill find a welcoming audience amongst film festivals and genre fans has been great. We’ve screened at over forty festivals worldwide and won seven awards, including a golden Skully Award from Screamfest and a win at the Academy-accredited Woodstock Film Festival, which subsequently qualified us for the Oscars. It’s been a wild ride. Now, we’ve found a home on Alter thanks to Sophie Carroll, whom I met at Fantastic Fest. Everyone at Alter has been so enthusiastic, which means a lot because animation seems often under-represented in genre films.
The best thing about making Buzzkill was contributing something to the horror genre that’s unique to my voice. This short has allowed me to connect with horror communities all over the world and meet like-minded people who enjoy a collective passion for all things spooky.
What’s Next?
I’ve written another animated genre short and am developing the designs while mentally preparing for the workload ahead. Doing anything independently in animation is always an uphill battle, but I want to parlay Buzzkill’s success into attracting support on this next one. Turns out there’s an audience for freaky, cartoon horror that’s bigger and more fanatical than I could have ever imaginedโฆand I’m more than happy to indulge my fellow weirdos. Stay tuned!
Buzzkill is now live on ALTER. You can watch it right here, and visit ALTER for more excellent horror shorts. These folks are out here doing the good work, hunting down cool shorts, bringing them to more eyeballs, and we are grateful for it!
