My dad's a prominent theatre director in Toronto, so I grew up in that world, directing and producing theater since I was a teenager. I always loved movies but they seemed too complicated until I got a job as an assistant on a movie-of-the-week and the technical process became demystified, like peeking behind a magician's curtain. Not long after that I switched to movies and never looked back.

I've always been attracted to the idea of ghosts being memories frozen in time, that a psychological haunting can be just as terrifying as a supernatural one.

Much like photographs, I also love the idea that ghosts are memories frozen in time. We can be haunted by both just as horrifically. One really becomes a metaphor for the other.

My dad's a prominent theatre director in Toronto, so I grew up in that world, directing and producing theater since I was a teenager. I always loved movies but they seemed too complicated until I got a job as an assistant on a movie-of-the-week and the technical process became demystified, like peeking behind a magician's curtain. Not long after that I switched to movies and never looked back.

I don't think you can erase memory, you can just bury it, and when we're ready to process old traumas they can reveal themselves in unique ways.

I'm fascinated by the possibilities of human behavior, of how two people raised the same way can end up at such different places.

I often think off-screen horror is more effective, it's the fear of what is lurking around the corner, just out of sight, that can leave you on the edge of your seat.