Every story has a skeleton.
My work is setting it, then disappearing.
Long before a cut is beautiful, it has to be built. A story architect works the way a structural engineer works on a building nobody will ever see the frame of — deciding what carries weight, what gets cut for load, where the eye rests and where it’s pulled forward. Get the structure right and nobody notices the structure at all. They just feel the story move.
Structure is the part of the craft no one thanks you for — because when it’s right, it reads as instinct.
Performance is fragile.
My responsibility: honour it in the edit.
I serve the vision with discipline.
Every decision supports what was built on set.
Story outranks all of us. It will outlive the schedule, the budget and the people who made it.
My loyalty is to what endures.
I advocate for the performer, the director's vision and the story in every edit…
Twenty years of rushes.
Three circled takes.
TK.01
TK.02
TK.03
TK.04
I started behind the camera, on live sport — Olympic feeds, no second take, no safety net. You find the structure inside the chaos, in real time, in front of everyone. Everything since is that instinct with better tools.
Some productions teach storytelling. Others teach teamwork. I Am A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here! Australia demanded both. Filmed in South Africa and produced for Australian audiences, the series relied on a team of fifteen editors preparing each episode for the following day’s broadcast. It was an environment where trust in the workflow, confidence in one another and disciplined editorial judgement mattered just as much as the cut itself.
Abafana Ababi 2. They shot it so well, and the performances were top notch — all I could think was: protect the performances and the cinematography. Eleven days of production. Two months in the cutting room building a rhythm that holds. I did exactly that.
Twenty plus years of live broadcast, reality, drama and film taught me something bigger than editing: how to turn volume and chaos into structure — on deadline, at scale. These days I build the same way beyond the cutting room: pipelines, workflows, the company behind them. Different timeline. Same discipline.
Sundays are for foreign films — studied, not just watched.
Three rooms.
The same discipline in every one.
Selected work, not a full archive — the projects that best show how the same principles hold under different kinds of pressure: no safety net, a full ensemble, a broadcast clock that doesn’t wait for anyone.
One of these plays in full. Ch 06 — the projector’s running.
Abafana Ababi 2 — feature film.
Eleven days of production · two months in the cutting room · now screening on eVODHow a cut actually gets made.
Five stages, one discipline.
Different project, different pressure. The process underneath doesn’t change.
Different project, same five stages. The discipline is the part that scales.
The public cut ends here.
The Suite is reserved for clients and collaborators — current availability, the full record, extended selects chosen for you, and a room for the work itself.
If you’re interested in working together, write to me. Introduce yourself and your project. I read everything personally, and if it’s a fit, I’ll open the door.
The direct line · email — DMs are indie. Email is Hollywood.
Story