Matthew Zeno knows how to keep an audience on edge. With The Scorpion, his latest short film, he delivers a gripping, high-voltage narrative where every shot feels intentional, every moment coiled with tension. Zeno’s storytelling isn’t just about what’s seen on screen—it’s about what lingers long after, proving once again that he’s a director who doesn’t just tell stories; he makes you feel them.

Zeno grew up in a quiet, unremarkable part of Brooklyn—where the most thrilling event was someone’s trash can blowing over. Naturally, this left him craving the obscure and abnormal. 

“My brain? A stubborn, unpredictable creature, oscillating between being my greatest ally and my worst nightmare. It’s this very stubbornness that led me here,” said Zeno. “Creative director, filmmaker—next logical step.”

For Zeno, filmmaking wasn’t part of some grand master plan. It was more of a happy accident. In 2022 at 18, he decided to pack his bags and trek down south to Florida, determined to shake things up. Instead, he found himself trapped in an apartment, thanks to a public transportation system that might as well have been a mirage. With nothing better to do, Zeno took on the ultimate challenge: reading books that had previously intimidated him. Followed by Robert Greene’s Mastery—a book that hit him like a philosophical freight train. 

“What I learned has stayed with me today. We’re all born with innate talents, and it’s our responsibility to nurture them. This led to an extended “Me-search” period,” he said.

As a result, stories continued to follow Zeno, especially since reading Mastery. Since putting that book down nearly four years ago, his focus has been singular: story. With this in mind, he disclosed how the creative director and filmmaker roles intersect with his work. 

“Creative directing and filmmaking may seem like close relatives, but they operate on different wavelengths. Models aren’t actors—they’re not here for an emotional exorcism,” stated Zeno.

Zeno explained that a softer touch is required when it comes to creative directing. In filmmaking, however, he mentioned he doesn’t focus on the actor as a person who exists. What matters is the character—the entire reason they’re even on set. 

“On a photoshoot, you can bark out orders like, ‘Tilt your head. Pout. Smolder’,” said Zeno with a chuckle. “Try that on a film set, and you’ll have a bunch of footage with actors acting like robots.” 

Zeno continued, “Film requires something deeper—months, sometimes years, of research and careful construction. You don’t direct an actor. You extract the character buried inside them. It’s a process that borders on the level of an exorcism.”

Although he lived in Florida until 2023, he moved back to New York City. Zeno mentioned he likes his settings with a little cognitive dissonance, as he views the Big Apple as a contradiction. 

“On one hand, it’s a playground of opportunity, a neon-lit dreamscape waiting to be seized,” he said regarding New York City. “On the other, it’s a violent, dirty, and terrifying machine… Both things are true, and I like to blend these extremes in my work.”

With that said, The Scorpion, his short film, came to fruition, which premiered on January 27 at a private screening in New York City, attended by a mix of industry professionals, close collaborators, and film enthusiasts.

The title pays homage to the classic fable The Scorpion and the Frog, which questions the nature of our inner selves—rigid or malleable. The tattoo’s origin is left ambiguous, but its primary purpose is to remind the audience of one fact: he is a predator. 

“The Scorpion’s story was inspired by my deep dive into the brutal world of South American cartels,” said Zeno. “Their inhuman violence is unrivaled in organized crime. I wanted to explore how far someone’s humanity could be tested when survival demands the unthinkable.”

The 2000s proved a perfect setting for Zeno’s short film—flip phones, burner phones, and an era when communication was limited enough to heighten tension. From day one, the film’s visual style was locked in: handheld camerawork, saturated colors, and an atmosphere that felt raw and uneasy—like something was just slightly off. 

“The pacing was tight but allowed for breath when necessary,” said Zeno. “Silence was a tool, not an accident. Sparse music choices enhance the isolation. The result? A world where characters feel completely alone as if the rest of existence has vanished.”

Even though Zeno’s vision came to life with The Scorpion, the first production day was challenging.

“And unfortunately, I was the problem,” admitted Zeno. “I had a vision but no real clue what I was doing.”

He stated the first 12-hour shoot was a $2,000 disaster, as the footage went straight to the trash. But, as it turns out, failure is a great teacher. Zeno took a month-long hiatus, reassessed, and realized his approach was all wrong. 

“Traditional directing felt unnatural, so I abandoned it,” he said. “Instead, I learned to summon the character out of the actor because this was an approach that felt innate to me and dramatically altered performances within the film for the better.”

By the time the credits roll, Zeno wants audiences to wrestle with questions such as: Can we truly change, or are we prisoners of our narratives? Are our identities flexible, or are we doomed to repeat the same patterns repeatedly? 

Zeno learned from his journey with The Scorpion and could also provide other filmmakers with some food for thought, as independent filmmaking has changed drastically. 

“Getting your work into festivals and competitions is easier than ever,” explained Zeno. “Streaming platforms have opened doors but at the cost of the traditional cinematic experience.”

Zeno continued, “Theaters are fading. Content overload is real. It’s both exhilarating and exhausting. But hey, I choose to remain optimistic.”

The best advice he could give future filmmakers is to take time to develop their style and not mimic it. He suggests experimentation, keeping what works and discarding what doesn’t. Currently, Zeno is wrapping up a feature-length film about a ‘90s tabloid TV host locked in a ruthless ratings war with Oprah. 

“That’s all I’ll say,” he said. “But trust me—you’ll recognize some faces.”
To keep up with Zeno and watch The Scorpion, visit his website, www.matthewzeno.com, and follow him on Instagram over @mistermattzeno.

Credits:

Written by Aida M. Toro | @aidamtoro

Photography courtesy of Matthew Zeno