Following American Flake‘s festival run, Four Time Film School Dropout spoke with producer Hazel Hering and star Oliver Austin about bringing the film to life, developing Gale’s emotional journey, balancing comedy with grief, and the collaborative spirit that shaped one of the festival’s standout independent features.
What was it about American Flake that made you want to come on board as a producer? What immediately connected you with the story?
Hazel Hering: I was involved from the very beginning. Andrew originally pitched the project as a short, and I immediately found the story compelling. It was funny, but it also had a surprising amount of emotional depth. Oliver was a huge part of that as well. I’d seen him in a small web series, and he completely lit up the screen. I remember thinking, This guy is a star—I want to produce something for him.
Andrew’s idea felt like the perfect fit. Oliver naturally embodied the lovable stoner with a heart of gold the story required. Beyond that, I connected deeply with the themes of avoidance and late-stage adolescence—learning how to become an adult and finally confront the things you’ve been running from. It all felt incredibly personal and relatable.
Gale spends much of the film emotionally stagnant. There’s always something simmering beneath the surface. How did you approach portraying someone who feels so much while trying to show so little?
Oliver Austin: One thing that’s really struck me throughout all of these interviews is just how much of Gale is actually me.
Around the time we made the film, when I was about twenty-six or twenty-seven, I finally started finding some emotional stability in my own life. Before that, I really had been stagnant for a long time. A huge part of changing that was finding this group of people—both longtime friends and new ones—who genuinely pushed me to see what I was capable of.
Hazel has said throughout this process that she saw something in me before I saw it in myself, and that’s incredibly meaningful because, for a long time, I didn’t believe it was there. A lot of playing Gale wasn’t really acting—it was simply allowing parts of myself to come through honestly.
American Flake balances comedy with genuine grief. How did the two of you work together to make those tones complement each other rather than compete?
Hazel Hering: I think there’s this perspective that comedy is rooted in pain. A lot of what we find funny resonates because we relate to the emotional core underneath it.
The idea of the chips is so absurd, but that’s exactly what makes it work. It’s this silly vessel that carries the story forward while allowing us to inject so much meaning into something that seems completely insignificant. Gale deflects a lot of his pain through comedy, and I think that’s something many people do. Humor becomes a way of expressing pain, so we stayed true to the characters and let that emotional honesty guide us.
Oliver Austin: Totally. As someone who’s been doing bits my entire life, it’s almost always been a way to mask a little bit of pain.
For me, it all came back to Gale’s stagnation. I wasn’t dealing with the death of a parent, but I did experience periods where I grieved wasted time and struggled with feeling stuck. Those emotions informed the performance naturally. The comedy and the grief weren’t separate ideas—they fed into each other very easily.
The film never treats grief as something loud or melodramatic. Instead, it remains quiet and deeply internalized. Was preserving that emotional restraint something you were passionate about throughout production?
Hazel Hering: Absolutely. That approach felt much more true to life.
Grief isn’t always one overwhelming emotional event. It’s something that settles into you. It changes who you are, and it often comes out in unexpected ways. When I’ve dealt with something really heavy in my own life, I’ve found myself becoming irrationally frustrated over something incredibly small because that’s where those emotions find an outlet.
Life doesn’t stop while you’re grieving. You still have routines and responsibilities, but those feelings continue to surface in ways you don’t always expect. We wanted the film to reflect that reality rather than treating grief as constant emotional breakdowns.
Oliver Austin: I think a huge part of that is avoidance.
When you’re settling into a depressive state, confronting the real source of your grief means facing something much bigger than you’re emotionally prepared for. Instead, you break over the little things. You can’t close a door, something minor goes wrong, and suddenly that’s what pushes you over the edge because it’s easier than confronting the actual issue.
That felt incredibly truthful to Gale, and it was something I recognized in my own life as well.
Gale often feels like someone who’s avoiding adulthood rather than actively choosing his lifestyle. What helped you understand where he was emotionally, and how did you portray that?
Oliver Austin: Honestly, about a decade of my own life.
I worked at a vape shop for years, only about three days a week, just kind of hanging out and drifting through life. I met great people and had a lot of fun, but I wasn’t really pushing myself toward anything. It didn’t take much for me to tap into that version of Gale because I had lived it.
We’ve joked that Gale is about eighty percent me and twenty percent different circumstances. That made it easy to find the character. I could simply put myself into those situations and trust the people around me. The creative team never tried to push me away from something that felt authentic. They recognized that connection and encouraged me to lean into it.
Independent films often require producers to wear multiple hats. What were some of the biggest challenges you faced bringing American Flake from script to screen?
Hazel Hering: Oh, so many hats.
I also acted in the film, which was actually a nice change of pace because, on the days I was performing, I could briefly step away from my laptop and just be present. Every other day, though, I was glued to it for what felt like twenty hours a day throughout production.
Independent filmmaking is really about solving problems as they happen. Locations fall through, equipment breaks, departments suddenly need something, and you’re constantly figuring out solutions on the fly. Because we were shooting in Eugene, we didn’t always have immediate access to specialized equipment. Portland was two hours away, so we had to get creative. At one point, we needed a hazer and ended up renting one from a local ballet company.
Shooting in our hometown became one of our greatest advantages because we had relationships we could rely on. I’d call an old friend’s mom who knew someone with a theater space or another local connection who could help us secure a location. It demanded a tremendous amount of organization, resourcefulness, and very little sleep.
We also didn’t really have a production manager, so I found myself handling those responsibilities while still trying to contribute creatively—watching the monitor, giving notes, making sure everyone stayed on the same page, and ensuring we captured everything we needed.
Oliver Austin: No one worked harder on that set than Hazel.
Even on the days she was acting, she’d step away between takes to answer emails or solve production problems on her computer. She was constantly balancing the creative side with the logistical side of the film. It was honestly incredible to watch.
The chips in American Flake become much more than a running joke as the story unfolds. When did you realize they would become such an important symbol within the film?
Hazel Hering: That was really there from the beginning.
The chips were always meant to function as the film’s central metaphor. They’re Gale’s distraction—his MacGuffin, in a sense. They’re the thing he fixates on instead of confronting what’s actually happening underneath the surface.
It also felt true to who Gale is. Anyone who’s ever known a stoner knows snacks are serious business, so it became this funny, believable object that could also carry genuine emotional weight.
Oliver Austin: Exactly. That idea existed from the very beginning.
We actually had a different title early on that referenced another brand of chips. The chips were always the hook. They were never just a joke—they were always intended to represent something much bigger.
There are moments where Gale shifts almost instantly from comedy to vulnerability. How did you prepare for those emotional transitions?
Oliver Austin: Honestly? A lot of it came from the anxiety I was already feeling.
I cook for a living, and suddenly I found myself showing up on the first day of this production surrounded by a grip truck, a professional crew, longtime friends, and people I’d never met before who had all been hired because they were exceptionally talented. I remember looking around and thinking, Oh…this is real.
There was a deep pit of anxiety sitting inside me, and I realized I could channel some of that into Gale’s more emotionally intense moments.
The other side of the performance came from understanding Gale’s depressive tendencies. I wanted audiences to see that when he’s alone, beneath all the jokes and distractions, there’s someone quietly sinking into despair. I’ve experienced those feelings myself, so those scenes felt very close to home.
Hazel Hering: Oliver really embodied those heavier moments.
There were scenes where we’d do take after take, and he never approached them mechanically. He completely immersed himself emotionally. I remember one particularly intense scene where we’d already done several takes, and I finally turned to Andrew and said, “We have to stop. Oliver’s going to pass out.”
He wasn’t simply turning those emotions on and off whenever the cameras rolled. He was genuinely living in them throughout the performance, and that commitment was remarkable to witness.
Every independent production reaches a point where unexpected obstacles force the team to adapt. Were there any moments during production that required you to rethink the original plan?
Hazel Hering: Absolutely. There were a few scenes that ended up being cut entirely, and looking back, I think the film is stronger because of it. We also had to change several locations after discovering we couldn’t secure the ones originally written into the script.
One challenge that immediately comes to mind involved a scenic overlook in Eugene called Spencer’s Butte. We’d scouted it beforehand and thought it would be the perfect location. What we forgot was that, at night, the parking lot fills with teenagers hanging out, smoking weed, and blasting music. Suddenly we had crew members arriving early just to hold parking spaces while we tried to coordinate equipment and manage a location that definitely wasn’t ours to control.
The other big hurdle was casting. We had an actor drop out unexpectedly, so we ended up flying a friend in to fill the role. That’s independent filmmaking—you spend as much time solving problems as you do actually making the movie.
Oliver Austin: Once production starts, it really becomes a balancing act. Every day is another puzzle where you’re trying to keep all the pieces moving in the same direction.
Gale’s friendship with Benny says a great deal about where he is in life without the film ever explicitly spelling it out. How did you develop that relationship on screen?
Hazel Hering: Tristan, who plays Benny, was actually the only actor we cast through an open casting call. We didn’t know him beforehand. We flew him in from Tennessee and met him for the first time on set.
He was significantly younger than the rest of us, and he was just wonderful. I can’t say enough good things about him. Naturally, everyone became a little protective of him, almost like he was the younger brother of the entire production. I think that genuine dynamic translated beautifully into the film.
Oliver Austin: He really was a sweetheart.
I even had to teach him how to smoke a fake joint for one of the scenes. The first time he tried it, it was obvious he’d never done anything like that before, and we all had a good laugh.
From an acting standpoint, though, I actually related more to Benny than Gale at different points in my own life. I’ve often been the younger friend looking up to older people, trying to understand where they were emotionally. That made it easier to empathize with Benny and build that relationship naturally.
Was there a particular day on set when you realized American Flake was becoming exactly the film you had envisioned?
Hazel Hering: For me, it happened on our second day of shooting.
We filmed the final scene of the movie, where Gale finally finds the chips, and everything came together exactly the way we’d imagined while writing the script. The performances were beautiful, the cinematography looked incredible, and it was one of those rare moments where what had lived in your head suddenly existed on screen exactly as you’d hoped.
It’s still one of my favorite moments in the film.
Oliver Austin: I don’t know if I ever had one defining moment because I spent most of production in a bit of a fog.
But I do remember one day where I was lying in bed for a scene while the crew filled the room with haze. I looked around and saw everyone—the camera department, lighting crew, focus puller, all of these people working together—and I remember joking, “Make me look pretty, boys.”
That was the moment I realized we were going to be okay. We’d been pushing incredibly hard, but seeing everyone working together gave me confidence that we could actually pull this off.
After spending so much time with these characters, what conversations do you hope audiences are having after they see the film?
Hazel Hering: I hope people leave thinking about what’s beneath the surface in their own lives and maybe with a little more empathy for the people around them.
It’s easy to become frustrated with someone who seems stuck or avoids responsibility, but often there’s something much deeper going on underneath that behavior. I hope the film encourages people to recognize that.
I also think about the chips quite a bit now. Whenever I find myself obsessing over a problem that suddenly feels much bigger than it should, I stop and ask myself, Is this my American Flake? If it is, then what’s the real issue underneath it? That’s become a surprisingly meaningful way to reflect on my own life.
Oliver Austin: For me, it all comes back to avoidance.
What’s the thing you’re using to distract yourself? What’s the “chip” that’s keeping you from confronting what really matters? At the same time, what’s something you genuinely love that’s become tangled up in those avoidance habits?
I think the film is ultimately about learning to move beyond avoidance—not to stop enjoying life, but to recognize the difference between escaping and actually living. That’s where real growth begins.
Looking back now, what has American Flake taught each of you about grief, adulthood, or simply learning how to move forward?
Hazel Hering: That’s a really great question.
I think it all comes back to avoidance and learning how to move forward. By the end of the film, Gale finally begins taking responsibility for his own life, but he also learns something just as important—how to lean on the people around him. Throughout the story, grief has isolated him, making him feel like he has to carry everything by himself. By the end, he starts allowing his friends into that journey and even uses his own experiences to help them pursue their dreams.
To me, that’s one of the film’s biggest messages: the power of community. Grief can make you withdraw from the people who care about you, but healing often begins by letting them back in.
There’s also a line in the film where someone tells Gale, “I’m telling you what the right thing is.” I think that’s something we all experience. Deep down, we usually know the right thing to do—the difficult part is actually taking that first step. Watching Gale finally make that choice, and seeing where it leads him, reminds me that meaningful change often starts with one simple action.
Oliver Austin: For me, the biggest lesson is the value of action.
There’s something deeply sad about Gale at the beginning of the film because he refuses to choose anything. He spends so much time wondering what his life could be that he never actually moves toward it.
There’s another conversation in the film where Gale talks about not knowing what he’d be doing if he wasn’t doing this, and I think that’s something a lot of people can relate to. The truth is, it doesn’t have to be the perfect decision. It doesn’t even have to be the thing you do forever. It just has to be a decision.
That’s what I took away from making American Flake. Don’t let yourself settle into inaction. Keep moving toward something, even if you don’t know exactly where it’s going to lead.
Special thanks to producer and actress Hazel Hering and actor Oliver Austin for taking the time to speak with Four Time Film School Dropout about American Flake and the creative journey behind bringing the film to the screen.