Shot with my students at the San Francisco Art Institute, this colorful drama with song and dance numbers (plus burlesque acts) follows the libidinous poisoning of Vatican personnel by an otherworldly intruder.

Secret number... secret shape... knower of the secret name... God of the realm of night - I summon you, 'Son of Sin'... arise!

This high octane drama that I made with my students at the San Francisco Art Institute chronicles the moral decline of it's heroine, as the love of a man she obsesses over drives her over something else: a cliff into hell.  It's a free fall…

This chaotic fantasy involves an underground empire of Halloween-type entities that bedevil the surface people of earth with yellow rays that cause civilians to go on murderous rampages.

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 used the sound of a lush orchestra to score the picture and the antics.

Made at the San Francisco Art Institute with my students, this tuneful picture transports the viewer to the planet Mars as three attractive teens seek funding for an expedition into adulthood.

This weather diary finds me not quite alone on the prairie as Pepe and Poncho pay a visit. They dangle about the motel room and peer into blue tinged moods of explosive angst and laid back lumpiness.

"...Deep in the garden of the Artist's heart, ghosts of bygone worlds arise on gothic wings, calling forth delicious languors."

— Mike Kuchar

Another holiday season rolls into the Northern California coast along with the breakers that roil and foam in mimicry of a "white Christmas." Men, women and felines frolic and fret amid the tinkle of holiday revelers as the short days fade into…

With various trips to the seashore, this summer travelette becomes an inner journey through mythical realms populated by rubberized horrors.

The New Year is upon everyone in Bay City. Music plays, strangers mingle, friends get raunchy and the calories pile on as the sky comes ablaze with pyrotechnic pizzazz.

The viewer is whisked through a lovely cat-house, which also includes a turtle along with the whiskered pets, and then is suddenly immersed in the painted output of my old (yet still young and vibrant looking) friend, Michelle Joyce.