James Grauerholtz

James Grauerholtz—now there’s a name that’s been floating around in the indie film and literary scene for ages, right? If you’ve ever gone down the rabbit hole of William S. Burroughs, you’ve probably caught his name lurking somewhere in the credits or interviews. The guy’s got fingerprints all over projects that live right on the edge: Queer (2024), The Junky’s Christmas (1994), and Flicker (2008). Not exactly mainstream popcorn flicks, but, honestly, that’s kind of the point. He’s got this knack for zeroing in on the gritty, the bizarre, the stuff that makes you squirm a little—or a lot. You look at Queer (2024) and it’s obvious Grauerholtz is still deep in Burroughs territory, channeling those offbeat, subversive vibes that refuse to play nice with tradition. The movie doesn’t just sit there and spoon-feed you a storyline; nah, it kind of grabs you by the collar and drags you through alleys you didn’t even know existed. Then there’s The Junky’s Christmas, a claymation fever dream that’s equal parts bleak and weirdly heartwarming. It’s a Christmas story for people sick of sugarcoated nonsense—a little dark, a little twisted, but that’s the charm, isn’t it? With Flicker (2008), Grauerholtz dips into the trippy, conspiratorial side of Hollywood, mixing up myth and cult cinema in a cocktail that’s both heady and hilarious. His projects don’t really fit in a box, and honestly, why should they? He’s more interested in the strange, the off-kilter, and the beautifully flawed—movies that feel like late-night confessions instead of polished, forgettable blockbusters.