Growing up, my Caribbean grandmother often said, “Laugh and cry live in the same house.” It was usually a warning that if I was playing too recklessly, consequences were just around the corner. But as I got older, I realized it was more than just a saying; it was a philosophy that shaped my entire approach to storytelling.

This film represents the heart of my work, which is to take the darkest subject matters and use humor to bring them into the light. While ZEKE deals with themes of grooming and abuse of power, it does so through an unexpected lens by focusing on the vulnerability men can feel about their hairline. The story unfolds in a barbershop, a space built on trust, camaraderie, and literal grooming. By setting the narrative there, the film subverts expectations and invites audiences into a conversation they might otherwise avoid.

For me, comedy has always been a way to process pain, a perspective passed down from my grandmother. That philosophy shapes my work. I don’t hand audiences solutions, but rather, perspectives that challenge them to look inward. ZEKE forces people to sit with discomfort, engaging skeptics and those who might dismiss survivors’ experiences by making the conversation more palatable through laughter.

As a filmmaker and comedian, I thrive in the gray areas, where nuance reigns, contradictions thrive, and preconceived notions unravel. My Brooklyn upbringing and experiences across different careers, from hustling handmade goods on street corners to navigating TV writers’ rooms, have given me a unique lens on culture, survival, and identity, all of which inform my storytelling.

With ZEKE, I’m exploring how grooming can hide in plain sight, masked by charm, tradition, and even a perfect fade. Pun absolutely intended.