Local filmmaker Michael Zumaya has spent his life looking for freaks who get it. This week, he’ll hit the motherlode.
Every fall, fans of freaky films from around the world gather in Austin for Fantastic Fest. The genre festival, created by Alamo Drafthouse co-founder Tim League in 2005, revels in horror, sci-fi, fantasy, action and outrageous mind-benders that can’t be categorized.
Imagine Zumaya’s delight when he learned his debut short film, Transference, would make its world premiere at Fantastic Fest this year. It will screen as part of the Short Fuse program of horror shorts Friday at Alamo Drafthouse South Lamar.
“There is an audience of freaks out there that this is for,” he says of the film.
Transference depicts a hypnotherapy session mutating into something surreal. The memories of a therapist (Valentina Ellis) and her patient (Alexandria Payne) blur together in a toxic storm of ominous sound and chilling camcorder footage. Festival programmers succinctly describe the short as “a ghost transmission from the outer limits of Hell.”
The production might be a perfect time capsule of indie filmmaking in Austin, where DIY grit and an increasingly glossy festival scene collide. To reach this high-profile (and blood-soaked) launchpad, Zumaya relied on a local cast and crew eager to make each other’s dreams come true — even if that dream is a nightmare.
The San Diego native started his film career in Southern California. When COVID unmoored the industry, he moved to Austin for work. He’s built a wide portfolio of commercial and music video work, including collaborations with Deftones and Danny Elfman, but directing a narrative film was always the goal.
Then, a childhood friend, writer Matt Knutson, reached out to ask about collaborating. Along with co-writer Ross Nervig, they developed the concept for Transference. Zumaya drew from deeply personal storytelling wells: a longtime interest in psychology (he wanted to be a therapist at one point), a love of strong visuals (thanks, Catholic upbringing), one of his favorite songs (“Are You Shivering?” by Coil ends the film) and his foundational film frights.
“I grew up an incredibly paranoid kid. Static on a TV—scary, like straight up,” Zumaya says. “I remember [watching] Poltergeist when I was 6. It freaked me the f- – – out.”
To make the short, Zumaya set a $11,000 crowdfunding goal. He raised it in a day, eventually hitting a total just under $14,000. The project also received a $5,000 Nexus Grant from the City of Austin.
“Transference,” Zumaya’s psychological horror short film, will premiere Friday at Fantastic Fest.
“Your community will show up for you,” he says. “Your people will show up for you.”
One of Zumaya’s people is Hyperreal Film Club co-founder Jenni Kaye, who came aboard Transference as a first-time producer. When Zumaya arrived in Austin, he set about the always-hard work of finding a new circle in a new city. In 2022, Hyperreal programmed one of his music videos, “Perfect Girl” by darkwave artist Mareux, before a screening of Jennifer’s Body at Hotel Vegas.
“I remember thinking at that point, when I was miserable, ‘This is the first stab of me feeling like there’s something in Austin for me,’” Zumaya says.
Kaye’s on-the-job education confronted realities of indie filmmaking head on. The crew made tough calls on nice-to-haves versus need-to-haves. Sometimes, that meant abandoning shots or locations. The experience convinced her that Austin’s collaborative mindset and DIY spirit are unmatched anywhere else.
“You always know here, if you’re gonna help somebody out, that that’s going to come back to you, as well,” Kaye says.
The production schedule revolved around submitting to Fantastic Fest. Zumaya knew its famously game audience would just get it. And not for nothing, he’s a regular at the South Lamar Alamo.
“It’s so crazy that I’m gonna get to sit in a theater that I go to twice a week and see my s- – – on the screen,” he says.
Zumaya’s ready for the opportunities a platform like this can spark. With ambitions to direct a feature film, he calls himself a pool of gasoline who just needs a match to strike.
From her vantage, Kaye has noticed a shift in the usefulness of festivals. More and more, projects premiere with distribution deals already locked down. It can be harder for indies to break through and get noticed by the people holding the checkbooks.
True to its left-field niche, Fantastic Fest could be a little different.
“You know that your audience is built on the people that you actually made the movie for. That’s who gets to see your movie,” she says.
Just what Zumaya is banking on. He thinks the industry is letting the freaks play a little bit more these days.
“Maybe there’s a little freak in you, too,” he says.
Fantastic Fest 2026 runs Sept. 17-24. Find the full film lineup and information on badges and tickets at fantasticfest.com.