Filmmaker Paul X. Sanchez IV Explores Monsters in Art Horror Short ‘Babyteeth’

Every child fears the monster under their bed. But, what about the monsters in their head?

Auteur-artist-musician Paul X. Sanchez IV turns a surreal nightmare into an exploration of addiction and generational trauma in the horror short Babyteeth.

Sanchez brought in award-winning filmmaker Jason A. White to produce the project along with Grammy winning music producer Peter Katis as associate producer. Experimental musician Joe Cardamone created the score and soundtrack.

The film is artistically crafted out of the varied background of Sanchez. Homeless at 15 due to his mother’s alcoholism, he discovered the music scene and spearheaded a club with music icon Moby. He photography landed him at NYU Tisch and at MoMA. He holds a BFA from SUNY Purchase and an MFA in Directing from AFI, where he earned the Tom Yoda Scholarship Award. He was recently selected into the Sundance Episodic Lab, and previously directed music videos and films for Moby and R.E.M.

What is Babyteeth about?

Paul Sanchez: Literally, Babyteeth is a short horror film about Toni, a 13-year-old trans LatinX boy, and his best friend Marcus, who confront a strange, supernatural presence hiding under Toni’s bed. As strange events escalate, Toni must face the possibility that the real horror might be something only he can see—or believe.

Metaphorically, the film is about the quiet, invisible fears we carry as children—especially those of us who grow up queer, trans, poor, POC or with any outsider status and stigma. It explores how trauma lives just beneath the surface of childhood, like a monster waiting in the dark. Babyteeth asks: what happens when no one believes you, and you still have to survive?

For me, Babyteeth is deeply personal. I was an outsider, LatinX kid raised by a single alcoholic mother. I was unhoused during parts of my teen years, and I learned early how to hide my truth to stay safe. The film’s horror is rooted in that emotional reality—what it feels like to be a child trying to navigate the unexplainable, both inside your home and inside yourself. All the effects are practical, and the cast is entirely LatinX and Black, because I wanted to create the kind of horror I never got to see growing up—where kids like me are not just victims, but protagonists. Survivors.

Horror films are fables. Fables with a coded message. A message from those of us who have seen the darkness, to those who are about to walk into the darkness: Beware the witch in the woods, the wolf who looks like grandma, the stepmother etc….

Where did you come up with the idea for it?

Paul Sanchez: When I was 10, I saw a 1970s made-for-TV movie called Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark that scarred me for life. It was about these little creatures from hell that came out of a grate in the fireplace and tried to drag a woman back with them. That night I dreamt I’d accidentally opened the closet door and unleashed them onto Earth—it was my fault, and no one could save us. Years later, when my mother disappeared into her alcoholism, and then literally disappeared, I lived alone in a house where rats literally chewed through the walls.* I slept with the covers over my head, terrified. Babyteeth was born from that intersection of childhood fear and abandonment.

It’s also influenced by Night of the Hunter, Polanski’s The Tenant, and Nightmare on Elm St.

*On a strange sidenote: the first song Moby and I ever wrote together, was when he visited my house for the first time, my mom had gone missing and the rats were there…so we wrote a hardcore punk rock song, (that I still have in an old Trapper Keeper), called: RATS IN MY HOUSE.

What was the biggest hurdle you had to overcome in getting this project off the page and onto the screen?

Paul Sanchez: The biggest hurdle was emotional. This was a deeply personal piece, pulled from memories I’d rather not relive. But the craft challenge was creating real, practical horror effects on a shoestring budget—and doing it safely with a child actor. We built everything practically: no CGI. Every shadow, every whisper, every rat, every set piece had to be earned with sweat, design, and intention.

And of course, fundraising…the bane of every film creator. But we partnered with a non-profit for at risk kids who felt my story aligned with their mission, so donations became tax deductible.

As a director, what can you share about your experience working with a child as the lead actor?

Paul Sanchez: Working with David (pronounced Dah—Veeed) (who plays Toni) was a revelation. He brought depth and vulnerability but also this quiet strength that floored us. I worked hard to make the set a safe, imaginative space. We never led with the trauma—we led with curiosity, play, and trust. It reminded me of the child I used to be, and the one I still carry.

Coleman, who plays Marcus, was also a joy to work with, he instantly fell into the role of skeptical but supportive best friend/older brother character. Fearless. He felt that we had perfectly created a child’s bedroom from a dream.

What is the central message that you hope audiences take away?

Paul Sanchez: That when children—especially children who are poor, queer, or of color—are abandoned, the monsters notice. And that survival sometimes means growing fangs. There’s hope in the darkness, but only if we tell the truth about what’s living under the bed.

You have such an artistically diverse background. How has that impacted your filmmaking?

Paul Sanchez: I was homeless during my teens, lived in photo booths, performed punk shows in abandoned clubs, and documented it all with a stolen…um…borrowed camera. That kind of life forces you to see beauty and horror side by side. It’s given me a raw honesty I try to put in everything I make. I want to tell stories that are feral but full of grace.

But there’s also been deep joy along the way—touring as a musician, co-founding an all-ages venue that became a haven for queer and outsider youth, screening my films in packed midnight theaters, building chosen families through art and protest, teaching students who lit up when they saw their stories finally centered. I’ve danced in desert raves, been on David Letterman with Moby, performed for 400,000 people at Woodstock, cooked meals in shelters, and watched strangers cry during scenes I wrote in the Sundance film festival. That, too, is part of my voice: joy as survival, wonder as resistance, art as communion.

All of it—every gritty, gorgeous moment—shapes the way I tell stories. With defiance, with tenderness, with a belief that even in the darkest places, there’s something worth holding onto.

What types of stories are you interested most in telling?

Paul Sanchez: Stories about outsiders. People pushed to the edge—by society, by family, by fate—who still manage to make something beautiful, or weird, or defiant. I love mixing genres: sci-fi with heartbreak, horror with healing, punk with poetry. I believe in radical empathy and art as survival.

What’s next for Babyteeth?

Paul Sanchez: We screened at Dances With Films in Los Angeles in June, and we’re submitting to more horror, genre, and queer/POC-focused festivals this year. We’re also in conversations about developing Babyteeth into a longer piece—I have a beautiful ecstatic but horrifying feature script written—Babyteeth will be a feature if the stars align.

Are you working on another project right now?

Paul Sanchez: Yes—several. My TV pilot AV’82, based on my life as a homeless punk teenager, was a Sundance Episodic Lab project…think The Breakfast Club with a serrated edge. I’m also developing a sci-fi series called The Fax about grief, technology, and the human soul. And a new horror script that starts with two fake detectives investigating a surreal corpse in the LA River. I’m always writing…AND I co-wrote, with William Dickerson, a Biopic of the life and death of Jack Nance, the man who starred in Eraserhead and Twin Peaks…and his friendship with David Lynch—CRISPIN GLOVER is attached to play David.

Is there anything else you’d like to share?

Paul Sanchez: Just that Babyteeth is a love letter to the kids who were left behind—and still found a way to survive. If you see yourself in this story, I hope you feel seen. And if you don’t, I hope you believe us anyway…oh and when my dentist heard that I was making this film, she gave me 400 real human teeth to give away to fans…If you come to the screening, I’ll give you one.