‘Butterfly On A Wheel’ Filmmaker Trevor Morris Talks Putting Authenticity In Hopeful Neurodivergent Oscar-Shortlisted Tale

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To grow, you have to be willing to fight against yourself in the hopes that it will make you that much better. In the directorial debut short Butterfly on a Wheel from Emmy-winning composer Trevor Morris, one young adult living with OCD and anxiety must face his fears to overcome his struggles. Set in downtown Toronto, the short film follows Jacen Davis (Curran Walters), a talented jazz pianist studying at the prestigious Royal Conservatory of Music, as he silently battles waves of OCD and anxiety that hinder his dream of performing live at Koerner Hall. However, when the virtuoso attempts to form a potential romance with Sorrel (Brielle Robillard), his rigorous and routine way of life is disrupted, supported by his brother Dylan (Michael Provost), Jacen decides to embark on a journey of personal healing and acceptance to embrace both his immense talent and his neurodivergence. 

In addition to landing a spot on the 2026 Oscar Shortlist, the 36-minute short film attained official selections at the Coronado Island Film Festival, Newport Beach Film Festival, and semi-finalist placement at the Rhode Island International Film Festival. Here, Morris talks to Deadline about digging deep to tell a personal and triumphant story about facing your fears.

DEADLINE: What was the inspiration behind this short? 

TREVOR MORRIS: It came about during Covid, which was difficult for everybody. But certainly, for me, it really took me down for a year, for a variety of reasons which aren’t that interesting. But I was really in a dark place. And coming out of that place, I decided to go back to the beginning. One of the earliest, most positive, warmest, and loving memories I have is of me sitting in my grandmother’s lap while she played “Puff the Magic Dragon” on the piano for me. So, the idea just grew from there, and in a way, it paralleled my healing journey, where I was coming from a not-good place and wanted not to feel that way anymore. 

DEADLINE: You’ve composed numerous TV shows and video games, but this is your first directorial project. What was your style inspiration, and what did you learn in the switch from composing to directing? 

MORRIS: Well, it’s funny. I finished the script, and my lovely producers came on board. I said to them, “I think I’m the right person to direct this script, with one small problem: I don’t know how to direct.” I’m self-taught in everything I do. I’m a self-taught composer, a self-taught conductor, orchestrator, etc. And so, I basically went to “director school” for almost a year and taught myself directing. I bought every book. I don’t learn great from books, but nonetheless, I read them all, and I did a couple of online courses, and then really a lot of YouTube and deep diving, talking to director friends. So, the transition was one of necessity, just going, “OK. At some point, I’m going to be on set in front of actors and crew, and I need to figure out what I’m doing.” So, it was a journey of self-teaching what it means to be a director and how to do that. I knew when we got into post, I’d be very comfortable, because I’ve been in post for so many years. But getting from script to camera was a dramatic transition.

DEADLINE: The stylization of the film is interesting to me. There’s not a lot of dialogue, but there are many close-ups and sound design that convey the emotional intensity of what’s happening to the lead and his surroundings. Talk a bit about these choices. 

MORRIS: We were showing a character who has OCD and a lot of anxiety. What we’re portraying in the first five minutes or so is someone just trying to get out the front door. He’s just trying to get up and get on with his day. And the reason is that when he gets to the street, the moment you mentioned about the close-ups and the sound design is so jarring and loud. It’s not because that’s how it sounds in real life. It’s how it sounds to him. So, it’s a subjective view that I’m trying to bring the audience into. It’s very much like myself. I have a very strong sense of hearing, so I cover my ears all the time in loud environments because I often find things overwhelmingly loud. 

All of that was just an easier way to display anxiety through OCD because it’s a visual gesture, though they’re clearly tied at the hip. But him going through the street and the subway, and just how difficult it was for him, we can all relate to that in our own way, whether you have OCD or not, whether you have anxiety or not, whatever your thing is. Sometimes, [when you have these conditions], just getting out the door is a win or accomplishment. For people like this, it could be a struggle as well. And the reason there’s not a lot of dialogue in the first half is that it’s just an observant point of view for us as audience members, so that we can feel what he feels.

DEADLINE: Jacen and his brother live in this gorgeous apartment that looks over the Toronto skyline. Talk about this place and its service to the story. 

MORRIS: Right, it’s their parents’ apartment in the story. The idea was to create an ivory-tower effect, where he wakes up in a safe, controlled environment. Someone who has his sort of conditions needs things to be where they need to be at all times. That’s why he rearranges the fridge. Although we all can kind of relate to that moment, can’t we, a little bit? But he’s looking down at the big, noisy world from this glass tower, knowing it’s out there waiting for him. And there’s a point later on [during his dinner date at home] where he goes onto the balcony because Sorrel [Brielle Robillard] can’t wait to see the city view. He can barely get out the front door. He’s hugging the barrier there. And then he goes from there to the street. And then from the street he goes to, which is very difficult for him, the concert hall, which, to me, I view it as like the Sistine Chapel to him. It’s like church for him. It’s a quiet, beautiful environment that he longs to play in for other people, but he just can’t bring himself to do it [because of his situation]. 

DEADLINE: Koerner Hall in Toronto serves as the concert hall. Why was it important for you to snag that location? 

MORRIS: First of all, the movie is a love letter to Toronto, which is where I’m from, so this was written into the script from the beginning. Toronto is often used in movies to double for New York, Chicago, Atlanta, or whatever, but Toronto as Toronto is not as common as you might think. I wanted to write a love letter to this city that I loved. Koerner Hall has been used in movies too, but it usually doubles as Berlin or someplace in Europe. And I just love the concert hall. I thought it was so beautiful. It has these wooden [ridges] and ribbons, as I call them, in the ceiling. I wanted to create a sense of awe and wonder for the audience and the character as he enters the building. You can see him looking up at the ceiling. And that beautiful piano is just staring at him. It’s this great metaphor for his life: that all he really wants, at heart, is to get past his stage fright or his inability to play his music for other people. So, what he’s doing is touching his dream, quietly.

DEADLINE: How do you deal with stage fright? And have you played at Koerner Hall yourself? 

MORRIS: I don’t have stage fright, but the impetus for that story thread came from something from my childhood. Part of the movie is autobiographical, deeply personal, and inspired by me. But I did have something like that, which I got over when I started conducting in the studio and eventually conducting live orchestras, live. I haven’t played at Koerner Hall. But I have performed in many other places, so I know what that feels like. It also helps to have Jace’s fear reinforced by this repressed childhood memory, in which we show a flashback of him as a child being forced out on stage by his teacher, with the kids making fun of him [for his stage fright], which has stuck with him his whole life. 

DEADLINE: Where did you find Curran Walters and work with him to play Jacen? 

MORRIS: OCD is a very serious subject, and there are six or seven kinds of OCD. The one that I have is [rooted in] symmetry and counting, so that’s the one we focused on in the movie. This is a subject I take very seriously, and for some reason, it’s often portrayed in comedies. What comes to mind is Jack Nicholson in As Good as it Gets or Monk with Tony Shalhoub, which are great projects – but Jacen [is the type of character] that is pulling his socks out of his drawer that are in Ziploc baggies, that’s how he starts his day. I wanted to portray someone with OCD and anxiety that’s not sensationalized. It’s not over the top like he’s debilitated, but it’s enough that it’s just a struggle to get out the door. And that to me feels real. We had an OCD consultant, a wonderful man out of Toronto named Josh, who guided us and works with and counsels people with anxiety and OCD. People who have to brush their hair or teeth 100 times exactly before they can leave the house. For Jacen, we touched on this when he tried to open the front door by turning the lock seven times. And then, of course, on the date with Sorrel, he can only do the turn once, because that would not be a great way to start the date, with seven turns of a lock. And he cracks his knuckles. And you can see him struggle with [not doing his routine]. These are the internal stories of the character we’re portraying on screen, to help you feel what he feels.

We had a great casting agent [Rick Montgomery], and he would send in people who read for the role. They all treated it like Monk or Jack Nicholson; they brought levity to the role, and that’s not the character. A friend of mine passed the script onto Curran, and he looked me up. It was a gift from the universe. The same thing happened with Michael Provost, who plays the brother; he’s really hot right now. At the time, he was coming off of Kevin Costner’s Horizon: An American Saga – Chapter 2, and now he’s in a hit show called 9-1-1: Nashville. When you’re casting a short film, casting is a challenge. And Michael read the role for brother because he has a younger brother who is [neurodivergent], so he wanted to read that brother’s speech, then he reached out. As a first-time director, it felt like the universe was giving me gift after gift. The universe was telling me that this movie should get made. 

DEADLINE: You made the Oscars shortlist. What would you like people to consider as they watch this? 

MORRIS: Listen, I’ve watched it and judged the short films for a long time. A lot of them, and this is by no means a criticism, but a lot of them deal with very difficult subject matter. Very tough parts of life. And so does mine, in a way. But what I hope for with ours is that it does leave on a higher vibration. Jacen overcomes his fear and plays music for others. Not only that, when he reconnects with Sorrel, he feels seen. The takeaway from the movie is that if there’s one human condition that connects us all, to me, it’s the desire to be seen for who we really are. The other part is getting out of our own way and making sure we see ourselves as we really are. That’s Jacen’s journey. He does the hard work when he reaches a point where real change is only possible when the pain of staying the same becomes unbearable. He faced it and came out the other side, not with a nice bow on top and life being perfect, but instead, with the possibility that life would get better. That’s why we go to the movies to feel these kinds of emotions. 

My last thing to say is that I hope this week [during the Oscars nominations voting] that people who are screening it go through this character’s journey, feel his pain, and also feel that he did the hard work and life is looking a little better. I think the world is a tough place, and what stands out about that message [in the film] is that we could all use a little positivity.

[This interview has been edited for length and clarity]

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