Y'Alternative Director / Showrunner
The Southern director for freedom-minded audiences, brands & artists.
Commercials, music videos and narrative dramatizing faith, freedom and Southern living.
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Treatments
Winning the pitch before the shoot
Tone, look book, shot ideas and a plan for performance, laid out so your client can see the spot. Written and designed by me, built for agency and label pitches.
- Concept and tone, one page
- Look book and references
- Shot list and board frames
- Casting, locations and schedule outline
Request a sample treatment
View More Treatments
Brand Anthem · :30Gotta JETIndustrial metal fabricator by day, unofficial auto tinkerer and motorcyclist by night, an early-30s woman monologues about the rush of JET’ing around the city, using the same familiar tools to put herself back in the driver’s seat of her own life.Read the treatment
Brand Anthem · :30More StrongarmsSurrounded by jacks and lifts in a commercial diesel garage, a grizzled auto mechanic mentors an 18–22-year-old apprentice, and in the process gives him the STRONGARM he needs.Read the treatment
Brand Anthem · :60 · ConceptPolar King: Long Live the KingIn the uncharted Arctic, a curious, stoic woman seeks out a great King who holds the secret to everlasting life.Read the treatment
Brand Anthem · :30A Mile on Your Shoes
A blue-collar worker thanks his Safety Manager for the new traction aids, and for literally walking a mile in their shoes so the crew can get home safe each night.Read the treatmentScript-to-Screen
See how I Brought it to Life
Check out my work from paper draft to final deliverable. Every piece plays with its script scrolling beside it, line by line, in time with the film. You see the page, then the frame it became. I write it, direct it and cut it.
EXT. DRIVEWAY - MORNING
DAD (70's), decked out in fishing gear, loads fishing poles in the side of a Jeep. The JEEP has a kayak roped to the top.
SON (30's) struggles to close the hatch. It will not close, Dad's Elite 3B Griddle is in the way. DAD laughs.
INT. JEEP CAB - MORNING
WIFE and GRANDDAUGHTER wave at the two departing as DAD places his hat on the dashboard.
DAD (V.O.)
People take different journeys.
EXT. NATIONAL PARK - FALL DAY
Aerial of fall trees.
DAD (V.O.)
But we all have a Halo.
INT. JEEP - DAY
Father looks toward son, laughing, while driving. SON looks back, smiling.
DAD (V.O.)
It's a reminder that there's somethin' bigger at play.
EXT. NATIONAL PARK LAKE - DAY
Father and Son sit in lawn chairs. Father cooks eggs and bacon on the grill. Fishing rods on either side.
Eggs and bacon cooking deliciously.
DAD (V.O.)
Some might call it a "wing-man".
INT. BASEMENT - CHRISTMAS DAY
SON, family and friends in sweaters gather around a Christmas tree. DAD sits on a sofa with slippers and spectacles, his toddler granddaughter against his chest.
DAD (V.O.)
It's with us in the seasons...
A pregnant woman opens a gift, smiling. It's a Halo onesie. DAD and GRANDDAUGHTER look down at his phone.
DAD (V.O.)
...and seasonings of life.
The Halo app dings with an alert.
DAD (V.O.)
It's intelligence.
DAD walks out to the patio to check on the meat on Halo's Prime 1500. Granddaughter follows, curious.
EXT. BASEMENT - CHRISTMAS DAY
Granddaughter moves her hand through the hanging utensils, watching them sway.
DAD (V.O.)
It's design.
Grandfather holds granddaughter eye-level to inspect the meat within. She is excited, holding the tongs.
DAD (V.O.)
...urging us to create, again and again.
EXT. CAMPSITE IN WOODS - DAY
FATHER savors a bite while dishing up food on a plate for SON. He points down at the food, all grins.
DAD
'Cuz it's really good.
Father and SON are revealed to be sitting in lawn chairs, with the ELITE 3B Griddle set upon a stand.
INT. TENT IN WOODS - NIGHT
FATHER and SON in sleeping bags look out the flap of their tent. The Elite 3B gleams from a small campfire.
DAD (V.O.)
It's not really in the fires...
FATHER and SON's silhouettes in their lit tent. The Elite 3B gleams on.
DAD (V.O.)
But those are great.
INT. OPEN AIR GARAGE - LATE AFTERNOON
DAD, SON and friends in generic red and blue jerseys jump up and down wildly, holding pieces of pizza, watching a game on a large TV.
DAD (V.O.)
And it's not even in the loudest sounds.
Halo's VERSA 16" sits on a truck bed as Granddaughter plays cornhole with a relative. The announcer is LOUD on the TV.
DAD (V.O.)
We like those, too.
QUIET.
The SON, now wearing his FATHER's iconic fishing gear, sits in a lawn chair in the woods with the Halo Elite 3 burner. An empty lawn chair next to him.
His DAD's hat hangs from the grill's hooks. The tongs next to them.
SON's gaze is upward, eyes misting.
DECEASED DAD (V.O.)
It's in those whispers...
A small arm reaches out and squeezes his legs with tongs. SON looks back down. His daughter is wearing DAD's HALO hat.
DECEASED DAD (V.O.)
...When you need them most.
He hugs his daughter, smiling, and looks past camera. The Elite 3B Griddle stares back.
DECEASED DAD (V.O.)
A Halo Goes Where You Go.
HALO LOGO FADES ON CENTER.
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EXT. WOODS - MORNING
Silence. Nature oblivious to what happened only hours before.
EMILY CARTON
(yelling)
Mr. LaaaRuueeue!!
Emily steps forward. A metallic rustle below. Emily looks down, removing her foot. Two blood-stained dog tags glimmer in the leaves below. She lifts them to her face, her eyes beginning to water. She lifts her hand to her face, shouting in a panic.
EMILY CARTON (CONT’D)
Mr. Larrrueee! Mr. Laruee! Mr. La..
MYSTERIOUS FIGURE
He’s gone child.
Emily whips around in alarm. A figure has its back to her in a crouched position, rummaging on the ground. Unruly hair upon its head and a weathered blanket draped around its shoulders.
MYSTERIOUS FIGURE (CONT’D)
His body lay there. But it is gone.
The figure is revealed to be picking wild mushrooms from the earth and stuffing them in a satchel. Emily bunches her face. Aggravated, she wipes the remnants of sorrow from her eyes.
EMILY CARTON
You know, you’re not doing yourself any favors by sneaking up on people like that. Keep doing that and I may start believing what everyone’s saying.
The man swivels his head towards Emily. One eye normal, the other a milky haze. Jonas Allenbach raises his voice.
JONAS ALLENBACH
(slow, angrily)
I am NOT “wack”.
He closes both of his eyes, resets his face, and smiles suddenly.
JONAS ALLENBACH (CONT’D)
What do you believe then, Emily Carton?
EMILY CARTON
I don’t know. What do you want me to believe, Mr. Allenbach?
JONAS ALLENBACH
It’s not what I want you to believe. It’s the truth. That they’ve ascended with Brian LaRue. That they will come again in fulfillment of what was spoken.
A beat. Emily turns her back on Jonas, giving up reasoning.
JONAS ALLENBACH (CONT’D)
The time has come for you to make a choice. You cannot unsee what you’ve seen. What he’s seen. You can join your ma’ to hunt me down, pretend none of this is happening. Let Ralph Larue and so many others be taken. Or you can proclaim the truth, and together we can hunt for those who’ve been taken.
EMILY CARTON
And if I don’t? Are you going to keep stalking me?
The sudden buzz of cicadas. Jonas clocks them and his eyes widen.
JONAS ALLENBACH
(whispering)
There are things far worse stalking you child. Now that you’ve been marked...
EMILY CARTON
Marked? With what?
JONAS ALLENBACH
(whispering)
You were with Brian LaRue before he was taken. You’re too great a risk. That’s how it works. They gather the weak of mind, folks who’ve seen death. Been close to death. People who can disappear without being missed.
Emily snaps.
EMILY CARTON
Mr. Larue will be missed.
Jonas raises a finger to his lips.
JONAS ALLENBACH
Shhh.. Brian LaRue is not the first, and he isn’t the last. After they have gathered them, they will come for the rest of us-- those who have interacted with them.
EMILY CARTON
(whispering)
You know this?
Jonas’ milky eye shoots to the sky, his other eye transfixed on her.
JONAS ALLENBACH
(whispering)
I have seen it.
The cicadas stop buzzing. Jonas relaxes his voice.
JONAS ALLENBACH (CONT’D)
A choice: Follow me. See what I have seen. Learn the ways to resist. The power to save Mr. LaRue. The power to save your father, and yourself. Or do nothing, and watch as everyone you love is taken from this Earth.
Emily looks away for several moments. Pensive. She looks down at Brian’s dog tags. Clenches them. Then, resolve.
EMILY CARTON
I’m not doing this for dad. I’m not doing it for mom. I’m tired of family being torn apart. But, if there’s any way that I can help Mr. Larue-- that I can help anyone from these.. these, things tearing someone else’s apart. I will go with you.
An obtuse smile rises from Jonas’ face.
JONAS ALLENBACH
Good, child... Good.. Let’s begin.
Emily nods cautiously, a walking stick is handed to her. Jonas’ smile drops and his gaze shifts in suspicion to the skies around him. He and his walking stick move forward, leaving Emily to take her first step.
A beat. She dons Brian’s dogtags around her neck. She follows him into the woods, eyeing her peripherals nervously.
END SCENE (“Marked Man”: Mieka Pauley)
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17 INT. RICHARDS OFFICE - AFTERNOON
MR. RICHARDS
Thank you for seeing reason. Clear your desk and send in the next person.
Employee 1 rises and exits the room telling MARY SANDERS to enter. She is a brunette in her late 20’s and looks around the room attentively.
MR. RICHARDS
Mary Sanders?
MARY SANDERS
Yes, that is my name.
MR. RICHARDS
How are you?
MARY SANDERS
I am as I should be.
MR. RICHARDS
You have been absent from work often. Why?
MARY SANDERS
I had to care for my child while my husband is on leave. He was injured on duty last month.
MR. RICHARDS
How am I supposed to react to such news?
MARY SANDERS
(hesitantly)
With consideration and civil decency.
Mary’s feet squirm beneath Richards’ Desk.
MR. RICHARDS
Such phrasing relies on the notion that sentimentality plays a role in decision-making.
Mary’s voice wavers.
MARY SANDERS
The money is needed for my household, I do not have time to find another...
She blinks -- rapidly.
MR. RICHARDS
Ms. Sanders, are you springing?
MARY SANDERS
That is absurd. I respect the laws of this zone.
MR. RICHARDS
You are springing.
This announcement only serves to push Mary past the breaking point. She fights back sobs... and keeps trying to put on the Cheery Point attitude.
MARY SANDERS
It is unreasonable to suggest... that... I... work as if circumstances were normal. They are not normal or desirable.
Mr. Richards presses a button on his telephone console.
MR. RICHARDS
Theresa?
THERESA THE SECRETARY
Yes Mr. Richards?
MR. RICHARDS
Send up security. I have a springer.
THERESA THE SECRETARY
Of course.
MARY SANDERS
Mr. Richards, I believe I am sick. How else do you account for... springing... when... I am a regular user of Torpase?
MR. RICHARDS
...Calm yourself. They are on their way.
MARY SANDERS
I am merely sick!
MR. RICHARDS
Yes. You are. We have to contain the illness before it spreads.
She realizes she’s doomed.
Large unseen shuffling is heard from bodies running down the hall.
MARY SANDERS
This... will interfere with my family’s contentment. Don’t you understand that? You have to see reason!
Officers appear and approach cautiously.
SECURITY OFFICER
Mam, lower your voice. It’s okay. Have you overdosed? Or have you implicated yourself in springdom?
MARY SANDERS
(crying)
I have done nothing wrong. I am on torpase! I am just sick! There is something wrong with the dosage!
18 INT. BROTSKY’S MEDIA - CONTINUOUS
Mary turns to the rest of the office workers. Imploring.
MARY SANDERS
Help me.
She screams as she’s dragged away. Joshua looks ahead at the sign "Springing is Death."
Silence.
Joshua peers over the top of his cubicle to see Becca enter the meeting room. She says nothing as Mr. Richards speaks, pauses, then waves his hand in dismissal. Joshua stops typing and focuses on Becca. She leaves Mr. Richards’ office, clears her desk of her possessions on the other side of the work room, and struggles to carry them all in her overburdened arms.
Joshua receives a new message on his screen. "From: Corey Sarte. Subject: Bar at 9PM?" Joshua types a response -- AGREED -- as Mr. Richards appears in his cubicle.
MR. RICHARDS
Joshua Barrett?
JOSHUA
Yes, Mr. Richards?
MR. RICHARDS
You will document the death of Mary Sanders.
JOSHUA
Time?
MR. RICHARDS
As soon as you arrive at her residence. Locke Lane.
Richards hands Joshua a file folder. He picks up his camera bag.
JOSHUA
Which house.
Richards pauses in mid-exit, confused.
MR. RICHARDS
The white one.
19 EXT. SANDERS HOME - AFTERNOON
The Small Student waits outside the house. A white Torpase Distribution Division truck is parked at the curb.
Joshua appears, camera around his neck. He stops before the Small Student and they silently acknowledge each other.
20 INT. SANDERS BEDROOM - AFTERNOON
Mary Sanders lies in her own bed. An IV full of torpase attached to her. The T.D.D. insignia on the bag.
TDD OFFICER #1
Mary Sanders, you see the reason behind this act?
MARY SANDERS
(calm)
Yes.
The TDD Officer #2 nods to a second female officer. She inserts a medicinal supplement into the IV and a dark liquid enters her system. Her EYES glaze over.
21 INT. SANDERS HOME - AFTERNOON
Joshua and Small Student stand side-by-side outside the bedroom. TDD Officer #3 closes the door, blocking their view.
A long silence. Dead stillness. The door opens and Joshua enters.
22 INT. SANDERS BEDROOM - AFTERNOON
TDD Officer #2 checks her pulse. Nods to TDD Officer #1. Joshua raises the camera and snaps a photograph of Mary. She appears asleep.
SMALL STUDENT
(Pre-lap)
Is she asleep?
Joshua brings the preview of the camera to him.
JOSHUA
What does the picture tell you?
SMALL STUDENT
She is asleep.
JOSHUA
(cold)
Then it is so. She is as she should be.
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INT. DIVE BAR - NIGHT
Low to the floor. Through a forest of barstool legs, a PAIR OF BOOTS crosses a worn red rug. Beer signs bleed purple across the hardwood.
SUPER: SCARLETT HILL – “WHISKEY.” Sweet Corn & Cotton Productions. Versa Studios Media.
EXT. GRAVEL LANE - DAY
The same boots, black leather, silver studs, take slow, deliberate steps over gravel and fallen leaves. She is walking away from something. Or toward it.
Yellow leaves skitter at her heels. She does not look back.
EXT. RIVERFRONT OVERLOOK - DUSK
Silhouette: THE GUITARIST (late 20’s, denim work shirt, acoustic slung low) plays against a white railing. The sky burns peach behind the skyline.
SCARLETT (20’s, long dark hair, hoop earrings) leans on the rail, wind in her hair. A steel bridge glows orange over the river behind her. She meets the lens with a look that has already made up its mind.
She starts to sing.
EXT. BRICK ALLEY - DAY
Mirrored gold sunglasses. Scarlett sings straight into the afternoon, one hand drawing the words in the air. Behind her, the Guitarist strums with his back to us, a green-painted wall and a faded tag behind them both.
INT. DIVE BAR - NIGHT
Dim and amber. Scarlett, head bowed, folds into herself beside the Guitarist’s shoulder. For one beat the song goes quiet inside her.
EXT. RIVERFRONT OVERLOOK - DUSK
Close on the guitar neck, the capo, the fingers. Behind the railing, the sky is going from orange to violet.
INT. DIVE BAR - NIGHT
Wood paneling, neon, a crowd. FRIENDS and REGULARS cheer, bottles raised, hands clapping. Scarlett steps out of them and into the light, grinning, alive.
The Guitarist stands against the paneling beneath a glowing racing-checkered beer sign. Scarlett holds a shot to her lips and downs it while he watches her do it.
Close on Scarlett, laughing. Behind her a dartboard glows and a lone patron nurses a bottle. She has never looked happier. We know the whiskey is doing some of the work.
A MAN IN A BACKWARDS CAP (olive shirt, grin) swaggers into frame. A BLONDE WAITRESS offers him a tray of shots. He takes one, and then plays it for the room.
Scarlett, eyes closed, face tilted into the light, lost in the chorus.
The red electric guitar takes over, the Guitarist’s hand a blur on the neck. A blurred bartender watches from the bar.
An empty shot glass sits sweating between amber bottles. Beyond it, a boot pivots away and a pair of jeans passes out of frame.
The Guitarist bows over his strings beneath the drop ceiling, face lost in the sound.
Wide from the crowd: the Guitarist plays on a low stage, grinning down at the room. Two bar regulars in the foreground watch, rapt.
A long bar. Regulars crowd shoulder to shoulder, a gray-haired woman at the center holds court in her glasses, a pint of something pale beside her. The Waitress leans in with another round.
The Guitarist sings into the mic, eyes lowered. Scarlett’s hand and microphone cross the edge of frame, the two of them sharing the last verse.
Wide on the corner stage: a small amp glows magenta, a guitar, a pair of jeans, a band that has played the same room a hundred nights.
INT. DIVE BAR - LATE
Scarlett in the half-dark, a cigarette between her fingers, the smoke curling past her face. The room goes soft. The song fades.
END.
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Commercial
Halo: A Halo Goes Where You Go
Brand anthem · :60 · script and film
Feature film
New World OrderRx
Feature Film · script and film
TV episode
Rapture: The Woods
TV Episode · script and film
Music video
Whiskey: Scarlett Hill
Music Video · lyrics and film
Who I work with
Four ways to bring me in
01
Agencies
A director one level above the budget, with treatments, a script pass and the edit included.
- Pitch treatments and look books
- Regional and national spots
- Fast, clean turnarounds
Send a brief
02
Production companies
Director for hire on your jobs. I bring DP partners, a mobile production office and my own cut when you want it.
- Day rate or project fee
- Rep-ready reel and EP sheet
- Crew and gear on request
Request availability
03
Studios and labels
Music videos, trailers, narrative shorts and series development, with the writing to match.
- Treatments for singles and albums
- Trailers and teasers
- Series and short-film development
Share a project
04
Musicians
Performance-led music videos for independent artists, with packages scaled to what a release can support.
- Treatment, shoot and edit in one
- Packages by budget
- Built around your song
Send me your track
Credits
Telly winner. Letterman and Ron Paul scholar.
Telly AwardsSeriesFest International Drama SelecteeITV Fest SelecteeIndiegogo Project of the Week
“An excellent teacher and mentor through the entire filming process to any new cast or crew on set. Had a clear vision and was fully prepared to take on the project we gave.”
“I produced some of my best work to date working with Kenneth on the pilot. He set up conditions for my character to be a recluse in the woods. This environment along with the mental and physical challenges allowed me to be in a state of moment to moment creativity which all read well on camera.”
“Kenneth Stevenson is an amazing, skilled and focussed artist. He has demonstrated the passion and understanding of storytelling in each of his projects.”
“At a loss for words right now. You truly have a gift and the Floyd County Sheriff’s Office is grateful for your work!”
“It’s been a sincere pleasure working with Kenny to create such a meaningful display of why we do what we do. This will be a treasure for years to come!”
“He’s consistently been setting the bar in the industry in terms of his skill set, attitude, and professionalism. I would jump for the opportunity to work with him again.”
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