Mike Kuchar Movies

Writes Kuchar: "It's New York in the summer and I set out to track down some high school friends who have burrowed deep into the 'big apple.' The...

A real and favorite dream of mine, preserved on film to be relived over and over.

He hears the whispers of gargoyles in a hall of heavy stone.

A wide-ranging look at pictures I collect on my walls and in my head. A look at pictures I concoct with my students at the San Francisco Art...

I Was a Teenage Rumpot was made in 1960, when George and Mike, the twin brothers Kuchar, were all of eighteen years old. Though their films would...

Looney thespians run amok in a classroom.

From here to there.

Childhood dolls and adult toys populate this moody yet picturesque lullaby.

A brief interview with Johnnie Didge followed by a demonstration/performance.

He made some 'love'....where has it all gone? --Mike Kuchar

AIDS victims and activists cope with hardship and society’s ignorance.

Two souls, one aged, the other young, contemplate flowers, fairies and earthbound angels sent to tempt and tease.

In this dream-portrait, Mike Kuchar floats through his memories as the sea, space and sky drift past. Wrapped in odd costumes, he frolics with the...

"A film counterpointing the hard reality of the present with the fantastic actuality or imagining of the idyllic past. This is best realized in the...

A sensitive soul with skin receptive to the World's natural elements and who has a mind open for expansive contemplation, embarks on an "inner...

Waiting to die and waiting to live is the same thing to him that chants: "Let me not be mad... let me not be MAD... LET ME NOT BE MAD!"

An eclectic compilation of home movies and early cinematic experiments. Preserved by Anthology Film Archives with support from the National Film...

OverRiped words from the lips of an OverExposed boy decorates this litany in pink with purple bruises.

A man is at odds with his very existence when he meets a salacious streetwalker, has his fortune read by a mysterious man and is chased by a killer.

Artists with brushes need light to paint a picture, but human feelings function just as well in the dark.