By Jessica Herndon
One of the most exciting things about the Sundance Film Festival is having a front-row seat for the bright future of independent filmmaking. While we can learn a lot about the filmmakers from the 2025 Sundance Film Festival through the art that these storytellers share with us, there’s always more we can learn about them as people. We decided to get to the bottom of those artistic wells with our ongoing series: Give Me the Backstory!
For queer writer-director Addison Heimann, art possesses the power to not only bring us together but help us grow. “The lovely thing about art is, in its specificity comes universality,” he says. “Art has a way of normalizing experiences unknown to you. It fosters empathy as well as entertainment. In a world that can be so full of hate, I’d love to continue creating films that foster love. And, yes, alien sex horror comedies can do that! Yes, they can!”
Heimann’s Touch Me, premiering in the Midnight section of the 2025 Sundance Film Festival, is the alien sex horror comedy he’s referring to. In the film, two besties come in contact with an alien and become addicted to its touch. Heimann’s second feature film — his first, Hypochondriac, premiered at SXSW Film Festival in 2022 — is a stylish, edgy, terrifying treat that explores desperation, mental health, and power.
Inspired to write Touch Me after struggling with depression recovering from a “friendship breakup,” Heimann says his love for filmmaking is partly fueled by its ability to make him “feel less alone” — and he hopes his art makes others feel like the same. “Not only do I want to make art for people who suffer from mental illness to identify with, I also want to make movies that speak on the queer experience,” he says. “I’m so grateful for the abundance of indie queer content these days, and even more so in the genre space. I am so humbled to get to be a part of that community. So, queer people, I hope you find this. I hope you enjoy, laugh, maybe cry, and definitely say, ‘Ew!’”
Below, Heimann chats about moving from Chicago to Los Angeles to pursue his filmmaking dreams, the production setback that turned into a gift, and what makes horror an important genre.
What was the biggest inspiration behind Touch Me?
Like all the art I create, I generally take inspiration from what I am directly dealing with at the time of the idea’s inception. So, in this case, my love of Japanese language and cinema — and depression (lollll). My first film, Hypochondriac, had the message of: Your mental illness will never go away, but if you’re willing to do the work, it gets easier.
And then, you know, mental stuff tends to be cyclical no matter how good you are at overcoming your last bout. So, of course I was depressed again. I’d also been through a pretty devastating friendship breakup, so between those three things, I asked, “Well, what if? What if something could completely remove your anxiety and depression? What would that look like?” And realistically, the only quick fix — that has a heavy drawback — is drugs. So, I wrote a story about addiction — about dealing with a non-relationship breakup — all through the lens of someone suffering from OCD. And once I had written the script and put my director hat on, I realized I had the opportunity for one giant homage to Japanese cinema of the ’60s, ’70s, and ’80s: beautiful technicolor, lavish theatrical sets, and practical effects that look like practical effects — one giant hodgepodge of all my favorite things in a movie.
Films are lasting artistic legacies. What do you want yours to say?
Leading with the big questions. OK. A friend of mine who’s familiar with my work went to a test screening of Touch Me and afterward went, “Well, you sure are interested in therapy, aren’t you, Addison?” I was like, “Okay, damn, roasted. OMG.” But he hit the nail on the head, I suppose. Living with a mental illness just sucks. There’s no sugarcoating it.
Regardless of what kind of illness you’re living with, it can be so debilitating that you can spend large swaths of your life wasting away in your own mind. I think I’ll spend the rest of my life writing films exploring it, and I ultimately think I’ll never find an answer other than “There is no answer.” But I also think those plagued with illnesses can deal with it in a way that finds it bearable. Through humor, conversation, and community. Ultimately, I want to make films that basically say, “Hey, you’re not alone. It sucks, but you’re not alone. Now let’s watch people fuck an alien.”
What was your favorite part of making Touch Me? Memories from the process?
Working with Sierra [Russell] and Josh [Russell] from Russell FX [a special makeup effects and creature shop] was a dream come true. Obviously when choosing to use practical effects, you run the risk of them going wrong and causing long delays on set.
But guess what? That didn’t happen! I mean, sure, there was some trial and error, but whether it was exploding a head, biting off an arm, ripping open a skull, deflating a body, lifting someone into the air covered in tentacles, shooting goo in actors’ faces — honestly, I could go on and on — it was just the most fun on set. So much blood! So much goo! So many fake tentacles!
And, oh, the best thing about the entire process was the bell. Our first week on set was at my house (Yay, free locations!), and my boyfriend brought home an old-timey front desk bell one day, and it sat on our coffee table. On the first day inside, someone rang the bell as a joke to indicate we were ready to start the scene, and we all giggled. And then we just kept doing it. Every time Dustin, my DP, was ready to start the scene, he would ring the bell, and we would all lock-in.
And then, at the end of the week, it worked so well. He took the bell to our next location and attached it to the camera. It became Pavlov’s bell. Everyone got to take turns ringing it to indicate we were ready. At the end of the shoot my producers Dave [Lawson Jr.] and John [Humber] gifted him three bells. I will now have a bell on every set I work on.
What was a big challenge you faced while making Touch Me?
Is it an indie film if I don’t say money? Isn’t it always money? (lol) But in reality, it was probably casting. We went through so many iterations of the cast, so many nos, [and] endless waiting, which is, of course, par for the course. But given the nature of the movie, and having only one indie movie under my belt and a lower budget, of course, it made for a difficult casting process. We even lost our lead actor a month before the film. But you know what, I know it may sound hokey, but they say you’re always meant to have the cast you were meant to have. It doesn’t matter who was cast first, it matters who was cast last. And my cast, I am endlessly grateful for. They dove into the deep end, trusted my vision, and executed it with sheer force. And, even more, I get to call them my friends. Olivia, Lou, Jordan, Marlene: I love you.
Why does this story need to be told now?
I think stories about queer people and women are always needed. Representation matters, and the more stories we tell featuring front and center confronting real-life issues will always be important. Because art engenders conversation, it fosters community.
I also think horror and adjacent genres have such a way of talking about things in other worlds through metaphor [and] through riotous humor. It’s funny, when people ask what my movie is about and I tell them, they belly laugh. And then, in the back of my mind, I have to be like, “Welp, it also explores the themes of childhood trauma, sexual trauma, friendship breakups, and mental illness.” I hope it’s not a gotcha. In my mind the ridiculous has a way of speaking to the real. Those are the types of films that really speak to me, and I hope others will feel the same way about ours.
Tell us why and how you got into filmmaking.
To be honest, it was depression. I think we’re noticing a common trend about what drives me. I had been an actor in Chicago for about four years (went to acting college), and I just wasn’t succeeding. So, in the midst of a depression where I was watching reruns of Gilmore Girls until 5 a.m., eating pizza rolls out of a bowl like they were popcorn, and suffering from sleep paralysis, I got an idea into my head for a pilot: Kappa Force, sorority crime fighters battling evil frat boy scum. I didn’t even know how to write a pilot. I had to Google. And after my first read-through, I was so enamored with the damn thing that I felt like I had to make it. So, I split it up into eight episodes, met a film director through a friend (love you, Hannah Welever), crowdfunded, and made the damn thing. I loved it so much. It was that scrappy Chicago-style community that made it happen. I’m very proud of it.
Afterward, I moved to Los Angeles and thought, “OK, I have a web series, now I’m gonna sell it and become successful (lol), and of course, that didn’t happen. So, I kept writing and producing shorts, learning on set, and watching my director friends kill it. It wasn’t until I had my mental breakdown in 2019 and subsequently wrote my feature about it afterward, did I even think about directing. It was my friend James Gallagher who encouraged me to do it on a random Tuesday at The Brentwood (RIP). And then I texted my friend John (my forever producer now), to gauge interest, and he immediately agreed to jump on board. And the rest, as they say, is history.
Why is filmmaking important to you? Why is it important to the world?
Art changed my life. It made me feel less alone. It allows for conversation. It fosters community. I feel at home on a set. I love leading a set. I love supporting others on set. It’s a collaboration of the highest sorts. Everyone together, brainstorming ideas, and of course, the best idea wins. It doesn’t matter who it came from. It’s a film by us, the whole cast, the whole crew. Every person matters. Film gives me purpose, it gives me joy, it makes me feel at home.
As for the world? I feel like humanity is storytelling. It’s the oldest tool we have for entertainment, to teach lessons, to find community. Look at me waxing poetic about filmmaking when I made a bisexual alien sex horror comedy. Last time I’ll make that joke. I think I’ve made it three times.
What is something that all filmmakers should keep in mind in order to become better cinematic storytellers?
Watch movies and always get coverage, inserts, and establishing shots! Just the basics. So many times, I say, “No, we don’t need it.” And then, oops, we do. Every time.
Who are your creative heroes?
Oh, so many. Hirokazu Kore-eda, Kiyoshi Kurosawa, Ryuusuke Yamaguchi, David and Brandon Cronenberg, Claire Denis, Luca Guadagnino, Gregg Araki.
And, of course, my peers, who I’ve grown with through the festival circuit and beyond: Riley Stearns, Kane Senes, Hannah Barlow, Michelle Garza Cervera, and so, so many more.
What was the last thing you saw that you wish you made?
Monster by Hirokazu Kore-eda. Touching, incredibly human, warm, effortlessly directed, brilliantly written.
One thing people don’t know about me is _____.
I have scoliosis! It’s bad. I had to wear a back brace in high school. Is that a good answer?
Which of your personal characteristics contributes most to your success as a storyteller?
I think my collaborative nature leads to a kind of egoless set. I work with people who are smarter than me, so why wouldn’t I listen to them? It’s my favorite thing about filmmaking. My whole cast and crew all have amazing creative choices in Touch Me, and I just think that’s beautiful.
Tell us about your history with Sundance Institute. When was the first time you engaged with us? Why did you want Touch Me to premiere with us?
I’ve been submitting to the Sundance Film Festival since I started making films in 2016. Been rejected countless times — as is tradition — and now my second feature finally gets to premiere in beautiful Park City. Why do I want to premiere at Sundance? Is that a question? It’s Sundance! Even my dad’s heard of Sundance.
Who was the first person you told when you learned you got into the Sundance Film Festival?
My lead actress, Olivia. She trusted me so much, and I just love her, and I’m so glad we get to be in each other’s lives from now on!
What’s your favorite film that has come from the Sundance Institute or Festival?
Hands down, Possessor by Brandon Cronenberg.