James Morris

James Morris—yeah, the guy who seems like he was born with a camera in his hand—landed on this planet in Provo, Utah, way back in '88. It’s wild to think how young he started messing around with film, like, while other kids were out wrecking their bikes, James had his eyes glued to a lens. He found his groove for real at East Hollywood High, which, honestly, sounds more like a Netflix show than a real school, but nope, it’s a legit film-focused high school. He wrapped that up in 2006, diploma in one hand, probably a script in the other. He doesn’t just stick to one thing, either. Acting? Check. Directing? You bet. Producing? Obviously. Writing? Of course—can’t box this dude in. But if you know his name, it’s probably ‘cause of his work in indie horror. That’s his jam. He’s got this vibe for taking low budgets and turning them into something that actually creeps under your skin, which, let’s be honest, is way harder than Hollywood makes it look. The guy’s not about cheap jump scares, more like the kind of slow-burn dread that sticks with you after the credits roll. James Morris isn’t out here chasing studio blockbusters—he’s building his own weird little legacy, one freaky indie film at a time. And, honestly, the horror scene would be pretty damn boring without him in the mix.