Rylan Eisenhauer DTC491 Final Project Rough Cut

Rylan Eisenhauer

This is a chose your own adventure style work that is hosted on the platform YouTube. it is a 12 video experience but only 8 have been made for the rough cut. There will be 5 endings but currently only 1 is available in the rough cut, all “Option Unavailable” sections are for the 4 other endings that still need to be created.

The techniques from the class I utilize in this project are “networked video”, “montage” (during the Italics video), and “looped video” (not featured in the rough cut and will be one of the endings)

https://youtu.be/FZvfTiKl47s

I hope you enjoy this work as I am excited to finish it up!

Carrick – Blog Post 9 (Final Project)

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Carrick

For my final project, I’m adapting a short story titled “Those Four Words” written by my friend Katelyn Lape. It’s a quiet, emotional piece about a person sitting in their car just after ending a call with their mom. There’s no clear exposition about what the character is struggling with—only that they’re trying to hold themselves together until they make it home. The emotional weight lies in what’s not said, which makes this story a perfect candidate for visual storytelling.

The film will take place entirely in a parked car and feature one actor, minimal dialogue, and a heavy reliance on sound, pacing, and subtle visual shifts. The challenge will be conveying the mental spiral through images rather than exposition.

One module I’ll explore is continuity. Because the setting is fixed and quiet, I want to make sure every small visual beat—checking the mirror, adjusting the phone, gripping the steering wheel—builds logically and fluidly into the next. Continuity will allow the audience to feel the stillness stretch and the tension rise naturally. It’s also a way to contrast the character’s physical stillness with their emotional volatility.

As of now, that’s the core focus. I don’t currently see another module fitting naturally into this project, but I do have a backup idea if the editing doesn’t convey the story the way I’d like. After filming, I may repurpose the footage into an HTML cinema piece—something more interactive and hybrid, combining video clips with text to guide the viewer through the character’s emotional state. This format, almost like a moving comic, would give space for internal thoughts that are hard to express through visuals alone. It’s not the plan, but it’s a path I’m keeping open depending on how the post-production process unfolds.

The story is deeply internal, and that’s what excites me most. Whether through continuity editing or a more experimental HTML presentation, my goal is the same: to communicate what’s felt rather than what’s said.

Carrick – Blog Post 8 (Bandersnatch)

Carrick

Bill Viola’s early vision of data space in his 1982 essay, “Will There Be Condominiums in Data Space?”, feels prophetic when viewed alongside Netflix’s Bandersnatch (2018). Both explore nonlinear storytelling, but they differ profoundly in depth, intention, and future potential.

Bandersnatch, a choose-your-own-adventure film, initially captures the thrill of interaction. The viewer controls Stefan’s fate, choosing between cereal brands and whether to murder his father. But this structure, while novel, quickly becomes repetitive. Its “branching” format—Viola’s own term—offers variation without true exploration. It’s a high-tech illusion of control. There’s a reason why this format of storytelling exploded for a few years and then quickly vanished.

Viola critiques this kind of logic trap. While interactive media promises new forms of engagement, he warns: “Even though the technology is interactive, this is still the same old linear logic system in a new bottle.” He urges us toward more immersive models like matrices and mental architecture—spaces where we navigate ideas, not just outcomes.

His sacred inspirations—Japanese shamanic rituals, the Greek memory palace, Eastern visual symbolism—suggest a more profound engagement with narrative. For Viola, digital storytelling should be holistic and internal, like navigating a dream. Bandersnatch, by contrast, remains procedural—a flowchart disguised as freedom.

Despite its limitations, Bandersnatch still hints at what’s possible. Viola imagined “the viewer wandering through some three-dimensional, possibly life-sized field of prerecorded or simulated scenes.” We’re not far off with VR and immersive media. New technology that is still found to be early in its possibilities. But to fulfill that promise, creators must go beyond branching logic and return to storytelling that mirrors consciousness—fluid, recursive, even spiritual.

As Viola puts it, “Applications of tools are only reflections of the users.” If we approach new tech without curiosity or care—treating it like just another gimmick—we’ll keep getting the same recycled experiences. We’ll end up with more soulless AI content clogging our feeds, or another yearly FIFA that barely pretends to evolve.

That’s what Viola warned against when he asked if we’re just building “condominiums in data space.” We take tools that could reshape storytelling, and instead use them to pump out the digital equivalent of fast food.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. Viola believed in the power of merging ancient structures—like memory temples or spiritual diagrams—with modern tools to make something deeper. Something lasting.