Executed on a shoestring budget by a cast and crew of teenagers and twenty-somethings, Threat is a brutal yet fascinating glimpse at life on the streets of New York. The plot describes several young characters from different social, racial, and economic backgrounds whose lives become intertwined until tragedy strikes (think Kids meets Do the Right Thing, with a touch of The Warriors thrown in for good measure). The action mainly takes place in the insular world of straight-edge counterculture, an offshoot of hardcore punk where the participants adopt a dogmatic anti-alcohol and drug lifestyle. The film attempts to illustrate what happens when a group of straight-edge fanatics clash with a decidedly more party-friendly group of hip-hop kids (hint: it ain’t pretty).
Although some of the characters’ motives may be hard to follow for anyone who isn’t familiar with these subcultures, Threat remains a personal and surprisingly well-crafted debut. Its complex layers invite multiple viewings; and through a combination of its uniqueness and the cultural elements it exposes, it has the potential to achieve cult movie status in years to come.
While the action of Threat is compelling, an equally intriguing story lies in the creation of the film itself.
Director/writer/producers Matt Pizzolo and Katie Nisa completed the script while attending a dramatic writing program at NYU. They weren’t film students, and initially began shopping it around to studios as they were taught to do. Surprisingly, they received offers right away. But it soon became evident that the film, based loosely on the lives of their friends and other young people living in the city, was too abrasive for mainstream consumption. Rewrites were insisted upon, but they felt too strongly about the material to change anything. “The basic message we got was that Hollywood wasn’t ready for an HIV-positive 16 year-old girl,” explains Pizzolo, in reference to one of Threat’s more memorable characters. Without a second thought, the pair decided to make the film themselves. They formed a production company called King’s Mob, which would later develop into an underground militia of angry (yet motivated) kids.
Initially they invited the ridicule of more experienced peers who felt that a feature film couldn’t be made in New York without a budget, crew, or shooting permits. Yet the pair were determined to do the film--their way. “To be honest,” laughs Pizzolo, “A lot of it was produced out of spite.” The problem of equipment rentals was solved when Pizzolo secured an internship at a film co-op, who let him use the gear for free at night. Casting was another issue.
After placing an ad in a local paper, the pair was contacted by hundreds of actors desperate for any kind of work available, despite the fact that the script called for people with a background in youth-oriented counterculture. “We were getting headshots from 40 year-old women with post-it notes like, ‘Could be a Goth?’” recalls Nisa. “We’re just a bunch of douchebags, and we’ve got people offering to shave their heads into a Mohawk,” adds Pizzolo. They began holding auditions after punk and hip-hop shows, in an effort to find people who looked and acted the part in real life. Some actors were chosen off the street. Several characters ended up being played by the people they were based upon, but unlike most low-budget films starring the director’s girlfriend, the makers of Threat made sure all the casting choices were right. Everyone had to audition, including Nisa, who plays the role of a woman dealing with constant sexual harassment by a neighbor.
Much of the film’s visual sophistication can be credited to Benjamin Brancato, a talented cinematographer who was still a student at the time. His skills were put to the test when he found himself transformed into a human dolly on more than one occasion. “We were using old cameras, so the only way we could make the film visually compelling was to put Ben’s life in danger over and over again,” explains Pizzolo. Thus Brancato was tied to the hood of a car, lashed to the side of a van, and lowered from a fire escape for many of Threat’s action shots.
This sense of adventure led the crew to plan an illegal shoot atop the building where the film co-op was located. “It was gorgeous. Absolutely illegal to shoot there,” recalls Pizzolo. “We could not possibly get permission from anywhere. The building was 15 stories up, a complete death trap.” Still, the gang monitored the building to find out when it emptied out at night, scored a copy of the keys, and brought 100 people (95% unaware that they were breaking the law) and a generator up for a clandestine shoot. The only roof access was through a narrow chute, so the generator had to stay below with a hose connecting it. They managed to get all the equipment set up and working, when disaster struck.
“Someone was climbing down the ladder in between shots, and his foot hit the hose and knocked it off. I jumped down in time to see one tiny puff of smoke escape before I could close it.” The fire alarm went off, and the crew frantically rushed to clear the area. Equipment was stashed in a closet while the cast & crew hid around the side of the building. Nisa managed to sweet-talk the fire department, posing as an employee who was working late and had stepped out for a cigarette. As soon as the fire trucks left they set the equipment back up and started shooting again.
A chance meeting with Alec Empire of Atari Teenage Riot led to a licensing deal with the Digital Hardcore label, who granted the filmmakers access to their entire catalog for use on the soundtrack. Empire also greatly helped to generate a buzz for the film, talking it up in interviews and spreading the word online.
Eventually the work print of Threat was completed, and its creators realized they needed to test it before an audience. Drawing from their experiences hanging out with punk bands, they decided to take it on tour. “It was an emotional, visceral thing,” recalls Nisa. “We felt like a band with their first demo…we wanted a reaction.” Sundance was two weeks away, and although the film had not been submitted, it seemed like the logical place to go. They booked screenings from New York to Utah and back. 15 kids piled into the van, and the tour was underway.
Upon arriving in Park City, the King’s Mob found a shoe store conveniently located across the street from the nexus of the festival. The stores’ manager agreed to host a screening, and several TV’s were hastily purchased from a nearby Wal-Mart in blatant misuse of their 30-days “no questions asked” return policy. Word of the screening had already filtered through the punk/snowboarder subculture of Utah by the time the Mob arrived back at the store to set up. A line was forming out front, comprised of savvy kids as well as curious festival-goers. Apparently none other than Roger Ebert was turned away at the door for refusing to pay. “When you’ve got kids driving up from Salt Lake City and paying, no one gets in for free,” explains Pizzolo.
A wall of televisions was erected with military-style efficiency, crewmembers tossing cords over the heads of unsuspecting bystanders as they went. Although largely ignored by industry types, the film was screened to a packed house comprised mainly of its core audience: teenagers and twenty-somethings.
The filmmakers soon found themselves being flown out to London to show the film at the Raindance festival, followed by a tour of Europe. Upon returning to the States they were invited to go on the Warped Tour, which resulted in a fan of Threat offering the use of his post-production facility in L.A. to re-cut the film. “We were suddenly encountering these amazing, talented, generous people,” recalls Nisa.
Having both lost their jobs in New York while they were filming, Pizzolo and Nisa decided to move out to L.A. “We followed our instincts, and what we learned was that we love making films,” says Nisa. “We operated for so long outside of the industry, it was time to come here and see what collaboration might be like.”
The pair took the film to the Coachella music festival, where they struck up a theatrical release deal with Hollywood distributor HIQI Media. For the DVD release, they set up their own label, Halo 8, which will be distributed by Sony-BMG. This arrangement allows them to maintain creative control while enjoying the distribution and advertising power afforded by a large corporation. The label will also handle the release of two different soundtracks: one featuring music from the film, and one with remixes of hardcore songs that inspired the film.
“We’re out here to build King’s Mob as a company that can produce dangerous and thought-provoking media,” says Pizzolo. “We’re not here to make commercials.” Amen to that.
