Chatting Facing Your Wolf-Faced Demons In ‘Hypochondriac’ With Writer-Director Addison Heimann

In Hypochondriac, Will (an electric Zach Villa), a young gay potter, seemingly has it all: a great boyfriend, an artistic life, everything a creative individual could want. When his bipolar mother waltzes back into his life, it brings back the dark legacy of Will’s past alongside some terrifying aspects of his inner life that he had yet to face. Will’s faced with a terrible necessity: tackle his emergent crisis before it’s too late, or face dire, tragic consequences.

Hypochondriac is a pained labor of love from writer-director Addison Heimann, who wrote the intense film from his own experiences and struggles. It’s a personal, poignant, and ultimately hopeful film. In an interview with Addison Heimann, we discussed it’s origins, it’s haunting wolf mask, the complex tone of the ending, and more.

How did you come to do the project and shape the story?

Addison Heimann: I was there at the beginning, because it’s based on a real breakdown and, spoiler alert, that breakdown is mine! I mean, I did write and direct the film… so basically, what happened was, [in a] very short version, I lost full functioning of my arms for six months after the injury at work, where I couldn’t shave, I couldn’t lift the phone, I couldn’t eat food with a fork.

I convinced myself that I was dying of ALS, thanks to ‘Dr. Google,’ And while this was happening, my mother, who’s bipolar, was leaving voicemails telling me not to trust my friends. So that confluence of events caused me to crack, and that was basically the impetus of the movie. But then, of course, I started writing it as therapy in the middle of physical therapy, I had pillows on the desk, ice packs on my arm trying to write the pages.

But of course, just because it happens doesn’t mean it’s interesting, and that’s what my friends told me when they read the first draft. I was just like, well, that’s offensive… but they were like ‘we don’t mean for that to be offensive, but ultimately stories matter.” So I removed all the boring parts. And ultimately, what I was doing was I was basically trying to avoid the fact that it was really about was a story of the relationship between me and my mother. And once I was fully on board with that and decided that I was telling an emotional retelling of what it is like to crack, that script kind of came together and I was able to find producers and make the goddamn thing.

How would you say Will’s past connects to his hypochondria in the film?

AH: The biggest thing for me is I was just suffering in silence for so long because I didn’t want to be a burden came and ultimately, I think that’s why I wanted to tell the movie. The entire time he’s trying to basically acquiesce the symptoms of his underlying disease, which is not acknowledging the trauma that he that he dealt with with his mother. Because of that, that’s how it manifests through hypochondria, initially.

[He experiences these] symptoms and he’s just like, ‘what are they? What are they? What are they?’ He’s like, ‘Okay, I’ll solve it this way, I’ll do blood work, I need to know,’ blah, blah, blah, but ultimately, about all he had to do (and it’s a fucking terrifying thing to do) is ‘shit, I need help. Something’s wrong with me, and I need other people to help me figure it out,’ whether that includes like a therapist, or a doctor who really listens, or your boyfriend.

The wolf mask was very unsettling. Where’s the origin for that?

Donnie Darko! It’s obviously a big inspirational movie for me. It’s totally what I started with because it was like ‘we can have Patrick Swayze, and that substitute teacher, and Sparkle Motion!’ but also we have Donnie sitting on the bed and him asking his mother ‘how does it feel to have a wacko for a son’ and she says ‘it feels wonderful’ in the same movie.

But then, when I couldn’t do a rabbit costume, I was like, ‘okay, if I’m going to do something in an animal costume, what makes the most sense’ and ‘I think a wolf makes the most sense metaphorically, because what is a wolf but just an untamed dog? So you have this scary wolf, but at the same time there are kind of loving aspects to it. And there’s a feral-ness to it that only exists really once he starts ignoring it and he gets crazier and stronger, but ultimately it’s just a dog. It’s just like a creature that just wants sympathy, but the animal instincts take over when my character is refusing to acknowledge that it exists, or refusing to acknowledge any need to deal with the trauma.

I can 100% see that. The ending reminds me a little of The Babadook, in that it isn’t a happy-go-lucky story of ‘oh the problem is gone,’ but it’s still hopeful in tone.

AH: […] It’s funny you say ‘hopeful’ because I think it’s very hopeful, because the biggest issue when he was dealing with this was, before he asked for help… [its] the idea that there is no cure-all, there is no something that just makes it all go away. Putting in the work is such a hard thing to do, and it’s so courageous, and just getting to the point where he’s putting a yellow sticker instead of a red sticker on his calendar […] and he accepts the fact that he’s still gonna have to deal with it, makes it more of a positive ending than just being “… and now I’m done.”

Hypochondriac is available for rent/purchase on VOVO
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