ODIE is officially in preproduction. The script is locked. The structure is tight. The story unfolds over a single day, which means every location, every movement, and every minute matters. We are building this film the way the story demands: lean, focused, and grounded in performance. A small crew. Real locations. Natural light. Austin as it actually feels — not the postcard version, but the buses, overpasses, clinic waiting rooms, and early morning streets that shape the rh

Before we cast Odie, we built him. Not as a symbol. Not as a statistic. As a man. Owen “Odie” Harper is a handyman. That detail matters. He knows how to fix things. He understands tools. He sees what’s broken and instinctively starts thinking about how to repair it. There’s pride in that. Competence. Skill. What he cannot fix is the moment that broke his life. Odie carries grief quietly. He carries stubbornness loudly. He carries humor as a shield. He is not a saint, and he i

ODIE started with a simple question: what does it actually take to get off the street? Not in theory. Not in policy. In a single day. The film follows Owen “Odie” Harper, an unhoused handyman in Austin who has waited nearly a year for a long-term shelter bed. On the morning he’s finally supposed to check in, the rules shift. The shelter relocates. He needs updated ID. He needs medical clearance. He has until 9 p.m. curfew. Miss it, and the opportunity disappears. That’s the s