"Make it personal enough so you feel embarrassed to share it.”

— Quentin Tarantino

I printed that out and slapped it on the wall above my desk. It was my entire approach to writing this film. I felt I needed to bare the full scope of the emotions I have surrounding my father. And even though we’ve come such a long way, I was tired of holding anger at him from moments in our past we shared or, unfortunately, didn’t. 

I needed to have the conversations we never had. To say the things I’ve only said to my therapist. To show the beauty of our reconnection in one definitive, cinematic moment. 

That’s what drove me to write this short film and the subsequent feature length version of it. It’s part healing, part cautionary tale, part redemption story. 

 He is also most likely reading this, so “Dad Drought 2: The Re-Drought” will most certainly be chock full of fresh material.

Let me take you on a quick tour of my artistic journey. It’s a winding road, but I’ll drift through the corners to keep it tight.

I wanted to be an advertising copywriter but got shut out because I didn't go to school for it. So I became a stand-up comedian. This was 17 years ago.

A simply atrocious display of everything.

A considerably less atrocious display.

Turns out, I wasn’t half bad. So I tried acting. Also not half bad. Which makes me… half good? Anyway, here’s me in a Little Caesar's Commercial.

Eventually, that convinced Corporate America to let me become a copywriter. Turns out, I was a decent writer. Also turns out, I hate authority. I got fired from every full-time job I ever had.

So I said fuck it and started making commercials with my buddy Anthony. Here’s one for Cheez-It.

A couple years ago, I made my first short. A horror film called Nice To Finally Meet You. It had a great festival run and landed a distribution deal with ALTER.

And that brings us here. Now. Today. Where I’m setting out to tell my stories, my way, by myself. So this will be the first film written by, directed by and starring me. Jason S. Burke. 

Which brings us to now. Dad Drought will be the first film I’ve written, directed, and starred in. Eek. It’s exciting, terrifying, and everything I’ve ever dreamt of. But I can’t pull it off alone.

Thankfully, I’m working with two insanely talented folks who are sprinklig their special sauce all over this project.

Our cinematographer, Nate Caywood. I met Nate at a short film festival in LA and instantly knew this was my guy. Beyond his insane talent behind the camera, he brings a passion and energy that elevates everything he touches.

Nate’s racked up a longgggg, luxurious list of credits, but most recently shot WRONG GUY, which landed a spot at Slamdance 2025. He also runs a super rad YouTube channel (hint: click that!) breaking down cinematic lighting.

Over one overpriced diner lunch in Bristol, CT, a hungover loner is ambushed into reconnecting with the father he hasn’t spoken to in twenty years. LUKE BOON is a 43-year-old New York photo assistant still reeling from a lifetime of resentment and rejection. His dad, CRAIG BOON, is a proudly un-woke, blue-collar relic with unsolicited advice and the emotional intelligence of a saltine. 

What begins as a blame game between two men who’ve mastered avoidance, slowly cracks open into a painful but cathartic reckoning. Somehow, through petty insults, boomer wisdom, and unsolicited Caddyshack quotes, they inch toward honesty. Maybe even love. But not before blood, both literal and metaphorical, is drawn. 

Dad Drought is a strangely hopeful exploration of what happens when two stubborn men try, I mean really try, to salvage a relationship that never truly existed. At the very least, it’s proof that one awkward lunch might be better than another two decades of silence.

Luke Boon (Jason Burke) Luke is frozen in an arrested development. His upbringing lacked a stable father figure and was smothered by an overbearing mother. This deadly combination has left him a rudderless introvert desperate for a fresh start any way he can get one.  

Craig Boon (tbd!) A teen dad turned deadbeat in denial. Craig often prioritized his own youthful exuberance over his son’s needs. Now older, he longs for Luke’s companionship but is too much of a boomer to admit his faults and seek it out.

Who will be our Craig Boon?

Karla (Sunah Bilsted) A battle-hardened career waitress running on fumes and zero fucks. But that doesn’t mean she’s not human. Once she clocks Craig’s sanctimony as a defense mechanism, she treats the estranged duo with grace, care and a much needed free sandwich.

“When anger goes up, empathy goes down.” — Dr. Mike (my therapist, not a TikTok dipshit)

That idea sits at the emotional core of Dad Drought. When we’re in pain, when we get angry, we lose the ability to see life through the eyes of the people who hurt us. There goes that much-needed empathy.

Our film lives in that liminal space between resentment and reconciliation. Where silence, sarcasm and self-preservation clash with the deep, unspoken desire to connect.

Tonally, Dad Drought blends crass, blue-collar humor with emotional rawness. It’s as if the therapy scenes from Good Will Hunting were trapped in the cage that is a tiny diner booth.

Which is what makes the location so exciting. We’ll use its layout and blocking to amplify subtext in key conversational moments. When Karla arrives, she makes it clear this is her diner. As she takes their order, she’ll tower over Luke and Craig from atop a power triangle.

There won’t be an overarching score, but a warm, comforting instrumental will surface as the father and son finally reconnect. A perfect reference would be Lalo Schifrin’s main title from Cool Hand Luke.

It’ll also play beautifully against the film’s final couple jokes. Which I absolutely will not spoil here. I’m sorry. I love you.

Setting aside the personal reasons I’m finally ready to share this story, male relationships today are at a crossroads. Some guys double down on the emotionally stunted, hyper-masculine approach. Others, like myself, believe it’s healthier to be open, especially while raising a son.

There’s no greater joy than sharing love with another person. And the father-son bond, even if it arrives twenty years late, is unlike anything I’ve ever known.

So however many people this film reaches, I want to do my part. To encourage folks to tell the men in their lives they love them. Whether that’s your dad, your kid, your best friend, or the bro you lift with once a week. Odds are, they need to hear it more than you think.

Dad Drought is cruising through pre-production. We’re lining everything up to hit the ground running the moment funding locks. But the big question this campaign will answer is: Who will play Craig?

Above are some killer comedians and character actors who’d elevate the role and the film. We haven’t reached out yet, as they might cost a pretty penny. But once the budget’s in place, we’ll confidently cast our boomer dad.

Two huge STRETCH GOALS we have are post-production and festivals. As of now, we don't have either included in this budget as making the film itself is of the utmost priority. Getting it "in the can," as people who like cans used to say. But hiring a great editor, colorist and sound mixer is vital to the success of Dad Drought. As is a strong festival run. It provides invaluable exposure and extends the life of the project far beyond YouTube views.

So if we're able to get the total amount raised to $21,000, we will confidently cover all post-production and festival costs. Which is nice.

The BIG PICTURE GOAL? Turn this short into a feature (already written!). We hit festivals, we win (obviously), and boom, a proof of concept for the full-length film and a calling card for me as a filmmaker.

Both are dream scenarios. This short is my first step toward the career I’ve always wanted, telling the personal stories that matter most to me.



Dad Drought is funny, magical, and brutally honest. I truly believe it can help bring theatrical comedies back into the zeitgeist. But without the short, the feature may never happen.

Here’s how you can see it 

While it’ll stay private during festival submissions, we’re offering special Kinema screenings as campaign incentives. Once the circuit wraps, it’ll go wide on Kinema. I want this film to reach as many people as possible. I just know it’ll resonate.