This film examines the complex legacy left behind when a mighty oak finally dies on a college campus.

The stories contained in this film, fundamentally, are about a need to belong, to put roots down, to finally find sanctuary in being nothing but what we are.

This film represents both singular and collective stories. A lone undergraduate student communes with a tree to help him feel connected to a college campus from which he felt alienated. A professor collaborates with students to create a sense of belonging to Michigan’s natural environment. A society of students fosters belonging by performing a ritual around the tree to induct members into their community. In creating belonging for a select few, however, the society excludes and demeans others who similarly seek to belong. An activist collective responds by effecting change over decades to create spaces for belonging for all people on the campus.
All of these stories bear a relationship to the great oak, an unwitting but central figure in their narratives.

The impossible desire to return home, when home has been changed by enormous forces. The first line is, "All my life, I have fought gravity." What does it mean to raise up and downfall. The downfall of a people. A government. A western road trip for the two crash sites of two Iraqi pilots who were training on F16s in Arizona. To see if the land bore traces of their impact, when the sky is always blessed with amnesia.

Who or what gets to homeland as a verb? In autobiographical nonfiction experimental film What Goes Up, a Saudi-American woman jumps on a trampoline in front of a Western backdrop of American military planes. Her father crash landed her in Arizona and, due to gender apartheid, without his mustache she couldn't fly home. Since she needed a man by her side to go back to Saudi Arabia (and whatever else the U.S. military is, it is definitely a man), she tried to enlist in the American military.  

a fence is a fence but the clouds move freely is a brief essay on the origin of four small towns in rural Kansas and Oklahoma, told through each town’s respective water tower. Tall tales, public memorials, and roadside signage present in a region shadowed with settler-colonialism, imperial pursuits, identity fictions, and the threat of severe weather.

Was there really buried treasure at the old farmhouse? And who knows the real story? When a filmmaker attempts to discover the truth about an old family legend, he finds that answers are not what he expected. As reality, fiction and memory blend, both the story and the documentary fracture, leading to a more personal journey.

Images and sounds from the last days of the oldest record store in town.

This story has no script, no characters, nor does it take place at a
specific time or place. It can be played by anyone, at any time and in any place.
It can happen in the middle of the morning in the inner courtyard of the building where I live while I am preparing a coffee and the neighbor from the fifth floor of the building opposite appears.

Bezuna explores the complexities of fleeing a war-zone through the analysis of peripheral details. Through interweaving different narratives, the film presents the raw and broken feelings of a child and a cat whose lives will never be the same.