When the Road Fights Back
Over the past month, I made a decision: stop talking about making a film and start doing it.
Since then, Exiled has gone from an idea to a living project — casting calls launched, actors auditioning, crew coming together, and real momentum building.
And then this week happened.
If you’ve ever tried to build something from the ground up, you know the feeling: the moment you commit, the road pushes back.
A car issue suddenly demanded time and money I hadn’t planned for.
A routine repair turned into a frustrating back-and-forth that ate up hours meant for production.
Technical issues locked me out of my casting platform in the middle of responding to actors.
Messages stalled. Auditions paused. Momentum slowed.
Meanwhile, I’m waiting to hear back from key cast members, coordinating schedules, and pushing forward through the thousand moving parts that come with independent filmmaking.
For a moment, it felt like the universe was testing how serious I really am about this.
But here’s what I’ve learned:
Obstacles don’t show up to stop you.
They show up to ask how badly you want it.
Because even with setbacks, progress didn’t stop.
Actors are still submitting.
Crew members are stepping forward.
Locations are being explored.
People are connecting with the story.
And the project is moving forward — one decision, one message, one small victory at a time.
Independent filmmaking isn’t glamorous. It isn’t smooth. It isn’t easy.
It’s problem-solving. Persistence. Continuing to push when momentum slows and uncertainty creeps in.
And it’s worth it.
Exiled is a story about isolation, resilience, and the human need to be seen.
In a strange way, the process of bringing it to life is echoing those same themes.
This past week reminded me that progress doesn’t mean perfection.
It means continuing forward when things get messy.
So if you’re building something — a business, a dream, a creative project, or a new path in life — and the road feels rough right now:
Keep going.
Momentum isn’t lost.
It’s being forged.
No matter what obstacles appear, this film is getting made.
And I’m grateful to everyone following the journey.
— Matthew
M.T. Grave Studio
Step Into the Void – A Community Casting Invitation
The Void is almost finished.
For the past several weeks, I’ve been building the central entity of EXILED by hand — designing, sculpting, testing, painting, experimenting with light. This creature isn’t CGI. It isn’t an afterthought.
It’s practical. Physical. Present.
And soon, it steps into the world for the first time.
When it does, one person from this community will step in with it.
The Invitation
I’m selecting one subscriber from the EXILED mailing list to receive:
An on-screen extra appearance in the film
A “Special Thanks” credit in EXILED
A signed physical piece from the original Void creature build
This is not a random gimmick.
This film is being built in the open. Documented in real time. Independent. Self-financed. Personal.
If you’ve been following the journey, you already know — this project is about alienation, erasure, and what it means to stand alone while the world looks away.
Now you have the opportunity to physically stand inside that world.
Already Subscribed?
If you’re already on the mailing list, you’re automatically entered.
No extra steps required.
If you’re not — this is your window.
Why the Mailing List Matters
Social platforms come and go. Algorithms shift. Posts disappear.
The mailing list is where I share:
Behind-the-scenes production updates
Creature build progress
Casting and crew announcements
Festival plans
Early access to trailers and screenings
Exclusive opportunities like this one
If you want direct access to what’s being built — not filtered through an algorithm — that’s where it lives.
Deadline
The drawing closes April 30th 2026.
The Void is almost here.
You can watch it from the outside…
Or step into the frame.
👉 Join The Community
Let’s make something unsettling.
—
Matthew T. Granville
Writer/Director – EXILED
Founder, M.T. Grave Studio
Casting Update: 700+ Applicants, 100+ Auditions, and the Moment It Starts Feeling Real
Casting has been moving fast — and yes, it’s been a lot.
Over this stretch of the process, I’ve watched well over a hundred auditions and worked through a pool of 700+ applicants to narrow it down to the finalists. Final selections will be made after this weekend, and I’m equal parts exhausted and genuinely fired up.
If you’ve never cast a film before, here’s the simplest way I can describe it: it’s like trying to find lightning in a bottle… but you have to do it repeatedly, for multiple roles, while keeping the overall chemistry of the cast in mind.
The Grind (and Why It’s Worth It)
There’s the obvious work — reading submissions, sorting through reels, checking availability, holding auditions, taking notes, comparing takes, doing call-backs — but what people don’t always see is the mental load.
You’re not just choosing “good actors.” You’re choosing:
who can carry the emotional weight of the story
who feels authentic in the world of the film
who elevates a scene beyond what’s on the page
Do these family members look related
who works well opposite other performers
and who can realistically commit to the production schedule.
It’s tedious. It’s time-consuming. It can be draining.
And then… you see it.
Seeing the Characters in the Flesh
There’s something genuinely exhilarating about watching someone step into a role and suddenly the character isn’t just words on a page anymore. They’re alive. They’re breathing. They’re making choices you didn’t expect. They’re revealing angles you didn’t even know were there.
That’s the part that makes the long nights and endless comparisons worth it.
It’s also one of those milestones where the project shifts from “in development” to “oh, this is becoming a real film.”
What Happens Next
Over the next 7 days, I’ll be locking in the final cast decisions and moving into the next phase: coordinating schedules, prepping character work, and building the foundation for what will happen on set.
This is the moment where things start to snowball — in the best way.
Follow Along for more Updates !
The best is yet to come.
— Matthew T. Granville
M.T. Grave Studio
Building the Void: First Construction Notes + The Visual Philosophy of EXILED
There’s a specific kind of fear I’m chasing with EXILED:
not the fear of being hunted…
…but the fear of being ignored, erased, and left to rot in plain sight.
To make that idea physical, I needed a presence that doesn’t feel like a “monster” in the traditional sense. I needed something that feels like a rule. Like a verdict. Like silence made visible.
So this week I started early construction on what I’m calling the Void Entity.
The design goal
The Void Entity is not meant to be “cool” in a flashy way. It’s meant to feel:
ancient
ritual
wrong-but-still
impossibly patient
like it belongs in the corner of the room you never look at
When people see it, I don’t want them to think, “What is that?”
I want them to think, “Oh… that has been there
The visual philosophy (what I’m aiming to feel)
I’m building the film’s visual language around a few rules:
Rule 1: Darkness is not absence — it’s presence
The void isn’t just “shadows.” It’s a thing with weight. When it shows up, the image shouldn’t just get darker. It should get heavier.
Rule 2: Negative space is a weapon
A lot of horror tries to fill the frame. I’m doing the opposite. I want empty parts of the frame to feel like they’re watching.
Rule 3: The creature should blend until it doesn’t
The Void Entity needs to feel like it can live in corners, doorways, curtains, tree lines—anywhere the eye doesn’t fully commit.
If you spot it right away every time, the spell breaks.
Rule 4: The audience should doubt themselves
The best scares aren’t “Boo!” moments. They’re moments where you’re not sure if you saw it—until the next shot confirms you did.
That’s the kind of fear EXILED is built for.
Practical-first approach
I’m prioritizing in-camera solutions and practical builds wherever possible—because practical texture reads as real. Even when the audience can’t explain why, they can feel it.
This build is still early. I’ll keep posting updates as it evolves:
materials
paint tests / finish
silhouette refinements
how I’m staging it in locations
lighting experiments to get that “it was already there” feeling
How I’m making Exiled
This is an independent production through M.T. Grave Studio, and I’m building it with smart constraints:
a contained world
a focused cast
I am using practical, in-camera solutions wherever possible.
I believe in atmosphere and performance over spectacle.
This blog is where I’ll document the process—casting, visual tests, practical effects experiments, locations, sound work, and the real behind-the-scenes problem solving that indie filmmaking requires.
What’s next
Next entry will be about the visual approach—how I’m designing the look of the film (lighting, framing, and the “rules” I’m using to keep the world consistent).
If you want to follow the build as it happens, bookmark this page and check back—updates will be posted regularly.
Support the project: the best place to keep up is the site, and the store helps directly fund indie production.
— Matthew T. Granville
Why “erasure” scares me more than gore
Why “erasure” scares me more than gore
Because it’s real.
You don’t need monsters for people to disappear in a meaningful way.
Sometimes all it takes is a group deciding not to look at you.
The supernatural elements in this film exist to make that invisible violence visible—without turning it into a lecture. The point isn’t “lore.” The point is the feeling: the moment you realize you’re alone in a room full of people.
The kind of horror I’m chasing-
I’m aiming for dread that feels inevitable.
The fear in EXILED comes from routine:
the way people move around someone they won’t acknowledge
the way conversations become empty around a forbidden subject
the way a community can make cruelty feel like righteousness
Tone-wise, I’m chasing that restrained, atmospheric lane—more in the spirit of The Witch and The Lighthouse than anything flashy. Quiet images. Controlled compositions. Negative space. Long moments where nothing “happens” except the audience realizing something is wrong.
The Horror of Being Unseen: Why This Film Exists
There are monsters you can fight.
And then there are monsters you can’t even name—because the people around you refuse to admit you exist.
That’s the core fear that started this project.
EXILED was born from one question that wouldn’t let go:
What happens to a person when a whole community decides they don’t deserve acknowledgment?
Not “dislike.” Not “disapprove.”
I mean full erasure—social, emotional, spiritual. The kind where eye contact becomes rebellion, and silence becomes law.
This story isn’t built on jump scares. It’s built on pressure.
It’s about a town that treats silence like purity.
About belief that hardens into certainty.
About what people will do to protect their world from anything that threatens it—even if that “threat” is simply someone who survived.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about why I felt compelled to make Exiled.
On the surface, it’s a horror film.
But it didn’t come from horror movies.
It came from real life.
Growing up, I saw what happens when someone is quietly erased.
I went to school with Amish kids who taught me about shunning in their community and how long time family members were no longer spoken of or visited. Friends or family there one day… gone the next.
No explanations to the kids, no conversations.
Just silence.
Like they’d never existed.
And I remember how strange and heavy that felt. not just the loss, but the way everyone pretended nothing happened.
Later in life, I experienced my own versionsof that feeling.
Family fractures and alienation- Family members I wasn't allowed or supposed to talk to without knowing why for many years... and the loss of lifelong friendships.
Moments where you feel like you’re standing in a room full of people and somehow you’ve already disappeared.
And now we live in a time where that feeling seems everywhere.
Public shaming.
Social purges.
People exiled from communities overnight.
“Canceling” that sometimes feels less like accountability and more like ritual.
It often feels religious.
Not divine, but dogmatic.
Absolute.
All or nothing.
You’re either inside or you’re cast out.
That idea stuck with me for years.
So Exiled became my way of exploring that fear through horror.
What if being saved was the curse?
What if surviving meant being erased?
What if the worst thing wasn’t dying… but being treated like you never existed at all?
This movie explores social erasure and the fallout it can leave behind.
That’s what this film is really about.
Not monsters.
Not jump scares.
But the quiet terror of being unseen.
And honestly, it’s the most personal thing I’ve ever written.
We start filming this fall