Director’s vision
COYOTE is a single-night horror film told almost entirely through the subjective experience of its protagonist. The story unfolds not through events escalating outward, but through perception collapsing inward.
The film draws from my own experience navigating the U.S. immigration system in late 2025, at a moment when it felt increasingly hostile, opaque, and violent—both structurally and psychologically. Instead of a literal retelling, it translates that emotional reality into genre. Los Angeles becomes a living environment: familiar, vast, and indifferent. The city doesn’t change—Mateo’s relationship to it does. As fear takes hold, ordinary spaces and interactions begin to feel alien and threatening, even as the world around him remains largely unchanged. That gap is where the humor lives: a check-in kiosk, a voided sale, a friendly question about family are menacing to Mateo and absurd to us.
I chose horror because it is the genre of being hunted, and of reason giving way to instinct. Mateo’s transformation happens without effects: no fur, no fangs, only performance, sound and camera. He loses his words first, then his posture, then his place among people. By dawn, a hiker looks at him the way he once looked at the coyote—an animal native to this land and treated as an intruder in it. Whether he has truly become one is left to the audience.
— Luis García Grech
Why now
We’re living through an immigration system that has become increasingly hostile and opaque. The psychological toll is slow, grinding, isolating.
COYOTE taps into a broader anxiety about belonging that feels urgent right now: the sense that stability can be revoked instantly, that the place you call home might not recognize you anymore.