Features

Zach Cregger (BFA 2004 Computer Art) has built a career on versatility and reinvention, moving fluidly from sketch comedy to horror filmmaking without ever losing the experimental spirit that first defined his work. 

With an eye on a career in 3D animation, Cregger arrived at the School of Visual Arts expecting to build digital worlds, but soon found himself pulled into the unpredictable energy of live-action collaboration. Out of weekend shoots and late-night dorm experiments came The Whitest Kids U’ Know, the comedy troupe he co-founded with Sam Brown (BFA 2004 Film and Video), the late Trevor Moore (BFA 2003 Film and Video), and non-SVA members Darren Trumeter and Timmy Williams, which grew from a scrappy ensemble into a nationally recognized television presence. He later pivoted into filmmaking and, with the breakout success of Barbarian (2022), established himself as one of the defining new voices of the horror genre. 

This summer saw the release of Cregger’s latest film, Weapons, which debuted at number one at the box office and drew rave reviews for Cregger’s “twisty-turny” narrative and a go-for-broke performance by star Amy Madigan.

Last week, Cregger—who is now preparing to film the latest installment of the Resident Evil franchise—virtually returned to campus for an online talk hosted by BFA 3D Animation and Visual Effects (formerly Computer Art), moderated by SVA Theatre Director Adam Natale with an introduction by BFA 3D Animation and Visual Effects Chair Jimmy Calhoun (BFA 2003 Animation). Over the course of the conversation, Cregger reflected on how sketch comedy at SVA set him on an unexpected career path, why Barbarian worked when earlier projects failed, how personal loss shaped Weapons, and what excites him about bringing his own vision to the Resident Evil universe. Read on for some highlights.

What led you to transfer to SVA, and what did you expect when you enrolled?

I went to Temple University in Philadelphia, where I was a film major, but [then] I decided to go to SVA and major in computer art to become a fine artist who makes animated, abstract paintings. What I quickly realized was [the program was] not what I had signed up for. But I stuck it out, thankfully.

How do you look back on your time at SVA?

My time at SVA was wonderful. It was a really awesome, formative four years of my life. Primarily because of the friends I made in my dorm, with whom I started a sketch group. We connected as a core group, and in all of our spare time—not even schoolwork-related—we just started shooting shorts together. Every weekend we’d shoot one or two sketches, and we just kept doing that.

What did you find most valuable about those years?

What was great was finding people who were driven and resonated with me. That, honestly, was the most valuable thing I got for my entire time. Higher education was connecting with people who helped me move forward creatively. The best thing you can do is to grab onto the people that resonate with you and make stuff together. That is the best thing I got out of it.

Did the practice of shooting so much outside of class shape you as much as the coursework?

We would shoot about one or two sketches every weekend, and we just kept doing that. So I was just getting hours and hours of hands-on filmmaking, even though it was really basic and mostly bad. But that’s how you learn—you just keep doing it, failing a lot, and getting better each time.

How did your focus on live-action work affect your experience in the computer art program?

In [the program], I was supposed to use all these skills I’d learned making art on a computer but, to be honest, I was so wrapped up in making sketches and shooting all these other things and writing . . . that my grades were only just acceptable. I had fairly underwhelming computer-art skills by the time it was my senior year. I wrote a story that I think was just clever enough to skate by on its charm and not on its impressive technical know-how. But it’s a testimony to the power of telling a good story.

How did those late-night shoots and weekly shows prepare you for the professional grind?

It was insane. All week we would be writing at night, all day Saturday we’d be shooting and editing, then Sunday we’d rehearse and put a show up. That was on top of jobs and school. But that’s what the professional world is too—you’re juggling, you’re tired, and you’re trying to make deadlines. Doing that at SVA got me used to the rhythm of real life.

Out of those collaborations came The Whitest Kids U’ Know. How did it grow from SVA to something bigger?

We performed a lot at SVA, and then we started doing a show at Pianos, a club on the Lower East Side. Every Sunday, we’d do a new show. All week we would be writing at night, all day Saturday we’d be shooting and editing, then Sunday we’d rehearse and put them up. It was an insane thing to do on top of jobs and school, but it was great. We did it for six years before we got a TV show out of it.

When did you feel the shift from comedy into filmmaking?

Miss March [the 2009 comedy that Cregger co-wrote, co-directed, and co-starred in with Moore] was an early experience, but it was really Barbarian that became my breakout. That film was me writing something I wanted to see myself in, without worrying about how it would land. It was about following joy and curiosity instead of chasing results.

Your latest film, Weapons, just had a strong theatrical run. How did it come about?

Weapons was written from an intense emotional place. My friend and collaborator Trevor Moore passed away suddenly, and writing the script was a way of getting those feelings out constructively. It was also an example of me writing on spec, just for myself, which is the best way to write.

Now you’re taking on Resident Evil. What’s your vision for it?

It’s an original story that just happens to live inside the Resident Evil universe. We’re shooting in Prague this fall with Austin Abrams starring. I want the audience to always feel like they’re in “prey mode,” [looking] over the character’s shoulder, seeing what they see. That’s the most gripping way to do horror.

Looking back, what lesson from SVA still guides you today?

Tell a good story and the world is your oyster, honestly. I fully believe that.