Inside 'Cutaways': Mark Schwab on Feeling Seen, Working With Your Idol, And Why Queer Cinema Needs to Be Less Sanitized

Acclaimed independent filmmaker Mark Schwab returns with his most personal and provocative work to date as his new feature film, Cutaways, premieres February 3 on Amazon Prime and Vimeo on Demand. Following its world premiere as the Centerpiece Film at the 2025 SF Queer Film Festival, the film offers a sharp, darkly comic examination of ambition, survival, and the high cost of staying relevant in today’s entertainment industry; diving headfirst into the moral gray areas faced by artists pushed to their breaking point.

Set against the backdrop of Los Angeles, Cutaways stars Silas Kade as Evan Quick, a once-celebrated indie filmmaker whose career collapses after a social media backlash turns him into an industry pariah. With bills mounting and doors slamming shut, Evan reluctantly accepts a job directing an adult film; an act that becomes both a means of survival and an existential reckoning. What begins as a compromise quickly descends into chaos as Evan navigates clashing egos, shifting power dynamics, and the uncomfortable truths he’s been avoiding about himself and his craft.

While Cutaways unfolds on an adult film set, Schwab is clear that the story isn’t about pornography itself. “It’s just the arena for my characters to play out deeper issues,” he says. “For Evan, it’s about survival and compromise, but even more than that, it’s existential. He has to keep making films no matter what. It’s his greatest compulsion.” That compulsion and the power imbalances it creates runs throughout the film, which uses the adult film industry as a microcosm of Hollywood at large. “I saw it as the lowest rung on the entertainment ladder,” Schwab notes. “It’s the film industry writ microscopically with people metaphorically hanging on by their fingernails.”

A Bay Area–based filmmaker, Schwab’s recent work includes Shadows in Mind, Brotherly Lies (2021), and its sequel Exteriors, which won Best LGBTQ Feature at the 2024 Poppy Jasper Film Festival. Balancing dark comedy, psychological drama, and discomfort, Cutaways refuses easy answers about redemption or success. Instead, it offers a raw, often unsettling portrait of artists who refuse to give up, even when the cost is nearly everything.

“I’ve always deeply respected the people who work in this industry,” Schwab says. “Cutaways might be an absurd dark comedy of errors and misfits, but it’s rooted in respect for people who just keep going and do their best no matter what the project is.”

In the conversation below, Schwab opens up about the films that shaped him, the cast driving Cutaways, and his resistance to sanitized queer storytelling.

EDGE: What was the first LGBTQ+ film that made you feel seen?

MS: There are two films that made a profound impact on me. The first was the 1970 version of The Boys in the Band. I saw it on a bootleg VHS tape when I was about twenty. I knew nothing about it going in—an older friend just said, “I think you should watch this.” From the first minute, I was completely compelled. I felt empowered by it. I felt a sense of community in it. And I still think it’s a magnificent film by William Friedkin. The second was Making Love (1982), directed by Arthur Hiller. Believe it or not, I saw that one in high school. We were renting VHS tapes back then, and I very nervously snuck it into the house. I watched the entire movie through the eyepiece of a camcorder with a single earbud in my ear, late at night, on a one-inch screen so no one would know. And even under those ridiculous conditions, I loved it. I still think it’s a good movie. What struck me most was seeing a loving relationship portrayed onscreen—and seeing that the wife, eventually the ex-wife, and her husband could still have a friendly relationship. It didn’t have to be full of anger or chaos. It felt mature. Those two films were incredibly powerful for me, and I still love them today.

EDGE: What inspired Cutaways?

MS: Well, the main thing that inspires Cutaways is that it’s the kind of film I want to see. There’s a lot of LGBTQ cinema out there—at least in America—but I don’t see much that really interests me. I watch it, I try, but so much of it feels the same. I grew up idolizing filmmakers like Gregg Araki, Bruce LaBruce, and John Waters. Those were the artists who made me excited about movies, who made me want to go to the arthouse theater. And for better or worse, that’s the kind of work I’m drawn to make—films that are out of the box, not standard, not something I’ve already seen a hundred times. If I’m going to spend a year of my life on something—from blank page to distribution—it has to matter to me. It has to compel me. And this story did. It was something I cared about, and something I knew I could actually make.

EDGE: This film is said to be your most personal. How much of Evan Quick, played by Silas Kade, is based on you? 

MS: There are two sides to that. In one sense, absolutely none. But in another sense, I’m reminded of something Eric Roberts once said about working on Star 80. He couldn’t quite get the Paul Snider character, and Bob Fosse finally grabbed him and said, “Don’t you understand? Paul Snider is me—if everything went wrong, if I were a total failure.” Evan is that for me, in a way. He’s not who I am today, but he’s who I could be in some alternate universe—if everything went wrong, if I failed completely, if I were addicted to everything. He’s the bizarroworld version of me. Not me as I am, but me in another metaverse.

EDGE: How much Knowledge did you have of the porn industry when creating the movie? 

MS: Not very much—really, not much at all. I did know someone years ago who wrote for Skin Flicks Magazine back in the nineties, and he told me some stories, but that was a completely different era in gay adult filmmaking. So I’m not an adultfilm insider by any stretch. Like most people, I just find it a curious industry. I respect the sex work involved—those performers work hard—and that’s something I want to be clear about. Some people ask if I’m criticizing the porn industry, and absolutely not. That’s not what this film is about. It’s not even really about explicit content. It’s about the characters, how they ended up where they are, and what they’re dealing with in the middle of all that. So yes, it’s a curiosity for me, but I wouldn’t call myself an expert in it'.

EDGE: Was it difficult to cast actors who could fulfill your vision?

MS: Not really—but I’ll put an asterisk next to that. Silas Kade, Fernando, and Diogo Hausen were actors I’d worked with before on previous films, and I already knew what they were capable of. They’re incredibly talented, brave performers, so they didn’t really need to audition. I trusted them completely. Jason Caceres was someone I knew a little—I’d met him a couple of times in passing. His role was the only one I opened up to a casting call. When his submission came in, I thought, Oh wow, great. It immediately got my attention. I reached out, and he told me he’d been wanting to work with me for a while. I knew how uninhibited and committed he is as an actor, and he proved that on set. And then there’s James Duval. That part was always reserved for someone special. I’ve been a fan of his since Totally F***ed Up—I literally drove to San Francisco in the rain to see it in the one theater showing it. Even back in ’93, I thought he was absolutely natural. I’ve followed his career through Gregg Araki’s films, and I loved seeing him cross over into Independence Day and Donnie Darko. I’ve just been a huge fan. Reaching out to him and his team felt like a dream shot, and thankfully, his rep passed the script along. He said, “This is interesting—this is different.” I met with James, and he turned out to be a genuinely lovely person. I’ve said this before: they say don’t meet your heroes, but this time it worked. Meeting him—and getting to work with him—was marvelous. And he’s wonderful in the film. Truly terrific.

EDGE: Which character was the most fun to develop on the page?

MS: That’s a great question. Honestly, all of my actors elevate the work. If anything in my films succeeds, it’s because of them. They’re the ones who make me look good. When people enjoy the film, I give the actors almost all the credit—they take my dialogue and make it dance on the screen. I’m not precious about every line, and these actors know that. They’re free to rework things, and almost always they come up with ideas that are better than what I wrote. Truly, every one of them made the film stronger. If I had to single out the biggest surprise, it would probably be Diogo as Ryan. Looking at it objectively, that might be the most underwritten character, and he brought so much to it—especially in terms of humor. He had less on the page than the others, but he delivered something rich, funny, and fully realized. But really, all of them elevated the material. Every single one. 

EDGE: A few of the actors seemed pretty at ease acting nude. Tell us about the environment you created to help them feel at ease.  

MS: Certainly, Diogo, Silas, and Fernando had worked with me before, so they know me well. And because this project is edgier than anything I’ve done in the past, I made sure everyone understood exactly what they were stepping into—it’s all in the script, and they were fully aware. But they also know I will never ask an actor to do something they don’t want to do. If someone says no, we find another way together. That’s non-negotiable. Because many of them are quite naked throughout the film, I set up a system to make sure they always felt safe. I told them that if there was ever a shot they were nervous about, I wouldn’t roll the camera until they approved the frame themselves. They could look at the monitor every time. Once they realized they had that control, they never vetoed a shot—not once. But I think simply knowing they could made all the difference. We didn’t have an intimacy coordinator on this project, and we didn’t need one. Everything worked smoothly because the trust was already there. They know I’m not there to exploit them. I’m there to collaborate with them, and they hold the power over how their bodies and performances are used.

EDGE: What kinds of LGBTQ stories are still missing from the screen?

MS: One thing I’m trying to do with this movie — for better or worse — is push back against how sanitized queer cinema has become. It’s getting very safe. If Hustler White came out today, or John Waters’ Female Trouble, or even Gregg Araki’s The Doom Generation, they’d probably be shut down or “canceled.” That’s exactly why I think it’s more important than ever to bring back real queer cinema — something edgier, something that actually provokes thought. LGBTQ audiences can handle it. It doesn’t have to be “my gay Christmas” every single time. Those movies are fine, there’s nothing wrong with them, but do they all have to be that? Absolutely not. I want to revive the spirit I grew up with, where you never quite knew what you were walking into. That unpredictability was exciting. That’s what Cutaways is for me. I’m sure some audiences will feel uncomfortable, and honestly, I think that’s healthy — especially in queer cinema. There’s this fear now that we can’t show gay characters who aren’t perfect. A couple of distributors even told me, “Mark, we really like the film, but there’s no one in this movie I’d want to date.” And I thought, if that’s your Rorschach test, then my God. I’d much rather make a film full of interesting characters than “dateable” ones. And I do find these characters interesting. Maybe I wouldn’t date them, but I’d absolutely want to hang out with them for a while. That’s my litmus test.

EDGE: What’s the biggest message you want viewers to take away from Cutaways? 

MS:  My films aren’t usually message movies or political movies — they’re stories. If there is a message in this one, I suppose it’s that the cutaways are a kind of backhanded compliment to L.A. and Hollywood. For me, shooting this movie in L.A. was important. It was actually the first film I ever shot there, and I loved it. Filming in Los Angeles was wonderful, and I’ve never met a lazy person in that city. I’m from the Bay Area, I still live in the Bay Area, and I genuinely admire the work ethic down south. I love the professionalism. No matter the project — big or small — everyone brings their Agame. When you’re working in a professional environment, even with this group of “misfit toys” on our film, everyone is giving everything they have. They all have their own agendas, and in their own way, they’re choosing to be there and doing the best they can with what they’ve got. I think that’s admirable. These people deserve dignity and recognition for their hard work. They’re creating something with passion, doing the best they can.

Cutaways Premieres February 3 on Amazon Prime and Vimeo on Demand