Evan Wigdorowitz

MEAT-THING is a absurdist comedy about Jo, a quiet butcher whose routine unravels when a slab of meat begins to speak to her. As the meat—strangely alive and deeply self-aware—forces Jo to confront questions of existence, shame, and meaning, she spirals through a city that continues without noticing. Haunted but unwilling to accept what’s happening, Jo carries the talking flesh to a friend’s ramen shop, where, under the weight of his own denial, he gives it up. The meat is chopped and served without protest. A deadpan exploration of guilt, disconnection, and the absurd comfort of pretending nothing’s wrong.

A Christian convert is preparing for his rebirth as a man of god – unaware that his teenage daughter, who hasn’t heard from him in three months, has declared him dead on social media. A school girl sees her private life made public when she invites a classmate, who is an online influencer, to her home. A divorced man with financial troubles so much wants to show his young daughter he can be a good father, that he fails to see the precarious position he is manoeuvring himself into. And a poet and commentator risks losing herself and those she loves in her desire to use her fame to achieve social change.

An affectionate portrait of the forgotten town of Tapoleng, where church once served as a sanctuary for its residents during the old apartheid order. Here, a new religion emerges – one tethered to a new spiritual practice, community and self-determination.