Mike Kuchar Movies

Lost film featuring vignettes of individual couples in a bathtub

Portrait of American filmmaker Mike Kuchar, shot in New York (United States of America) on December 2, 1988 at 7:30 PM.

"Devils"..."Angels," when they sleep they dream not of Heaven, but of us. —Mike Kuchar

A rhythmic flow of image with sound, weaving a mood suspended in time.

A House Wife's hum-drum world dissolves away into a thorny Passion Play of miraculous visions.

Things "go bump in broad daylight" as archetypical characters romp about in a sunny forest...doll like things and beast men.

Commissioned to be a "promo" for a loud punk rock band, Mr. Kuchar feared that the noise the band made would spoil the mood of his visuals, so he...

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...

The windy adventures of a dog in a sea of grass beneath blue skies.

Earth's "garden" is fragrant with temptations but has far too many "thorns". He got "stung" and fell...got up...and fell, again and again!

Four women in the throes of frustrated sexual desire. Not making fun of them but rather sending up the absurdities of passion and the ways in which...

This movie was made mostly in Brooklyn during some very hot and empty evenings. Since the evenings were so empty, Jane Elford, the star, urged me to...

The stimulus for this dissertation on the reason behind the creative impulse is taken verbatim from an author's preface to his book.

A kiss can be devine or demonic. A kiss can change your life...alter it.

The Shadow Glass is roughly based on Ewers' 'Student of Prague'. It concerns a young man who, feeling incapable of surmounting the harsh realities of...

An early masterpiece by Mike Kuchar, in which Babette tells all, leaving no turgid stone unturned.

...They had their source in tangled vegetable matter, countless rapes and invasions and enjoy good wine with the girls.

Green spills over purple ridges and into deep cut valleys. Blue surges up from rounds and hollows, blending with incandescent pink plains, revealing...

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!"