An Inspired Chat with Jay Henric of Miami, FL

We’re looking forward to introducing you to Jay Henric . Check out our conversation below.

Jay, it’s always a pleasure to learn from you and your journey. Let’s start with a bit of a warmup: What are you being called to do now, that you may have been afraid of before?
Lead. For many reasons, including gender, experience, and more, I used to feel nervous about standing up and advocating for myself. I wasn’t as confident as I am today, and too often I let others steer me into decisions I knew in my gut weren’t right. I felt insecure about my art and my process, and in trying to blend a little of everyone’s advice, I ended up losing my own voice.

Through meaningful collaboration, mentorship from the right individuals, and greater life experience, I’ve grown into a different person. I know my voice now. I know what I bring to the table. I know I have the grit and determination to pursue what many might call a long shot. I’ve already surprised myself with what I’ve accomplished, and I look forward to continuing to aim for the impossible—because this is it. There’s no other life but the one I have. So why not go for it?

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I really feel like I’m entering the next stage of my evolution as a filmmaker and as a person. After producing two successful short films—one of which we were fortunate enough to sell and see developed into a feature—I’ve grown so much, not just creatively but also in how I approach the industry. In the beginning, I struggled with confidence, with trusting my own voice, and with the constant pressure to compromise. But those early projects, the collaborations, the setbacks, and the wins they taught me grit. They showed me that when I lean into my instincts and my vision, that’s when the best work comes alive.

Now I’m stepping into my first full-length feature film with my partner and husband, Stephen Henric, through our own studio, Voodoo Pictures. For me, that’s not just about making a movie—it’s about taking control of the process and building something that reflects the kind of art we believe in.

Voodoo Pictures is our way of planting a flag. It’s a horror-forward studio and creative collective designed to conjure daring stories from diverse, visionary voices while challenging the traditional gatekeeping of the system. We’re based in South Florida, which is important to me, because I’ve always felt like this region has such a raw, untapped energy—cultural richness, history, edge—that deserves to be reflected on screen. It’s where I live, it’s where I’m raising my family, and it’s where I want to build a hub for bold storytelling.

Our mission is simple: to make horror and thrillers with bite—films that are psychological, supernatural, socially sharp, and emotionally honest. I want the kind of stories that burrow under your skin but also say something about the world we’re living in. Films that scare you, yes, but also make you reflect. With Voodoo Pictures, we want to hold our own alongside the biggest players in the genre space, while carving out our own identity as disruptors and tastemakers.

Our debut feature is the perfect statement of intent. It’s a bold, genre-bending, subversive story I describe as Hereditary meets Barbarian. It’s terrifying and visceral, but also layered with the kind of emotional and thematic depth that I believe defines the best horror. It’s personal to me, too, because so much of it ties into themes I keep exploring in my work—family, generational trauma, the fight to reclaim your identity when forces beyond you are trying to take it away.

Right now, we’re crowdfunding this project, and that’s intentional. It’s not just about raising the money—it’s about inviting people to be part of something from the ground up. I love the idea of our first feature being made not just by us, but with a community of people who believe in what we’re building. For me, filmmaking has always been about connection—whether that’s connecting with an audience in the dark of a theater, or with the collaborators who come on board to bring it all to life. By opening the doors early, we’re saying: if you believe in bold, visionary horror, we want you on this journey with us.

And honestly, as a filmmaker, a partner, a parent, and someone who’s fought hard to get to this moment, I just feel like… why not go for it? This is the life I’ve got, and I want to swing big. Voodoo Pictures is our chance to do that, and I couldn’t be more excited.

Thanks for sharing that. Would love to go back in time and hear about how your past might have impacted who you are today. Who taught you the most about work?
What’s funny is, I don’t actually make music—but music has influenced me in some ways even more than film. I grew up listening to post-hardcore and emo bands, and for the first time in my life I felt truly seen. That music gave me a sense of connection I hadn’t experienced before. Looking back now as an adult, I realize what I was really connecting to was the raw emotion in the art—the honesty, the vulnerability, the way you can feel like a stranger is speaking directly to your pain while helping you process your own. That cathartic nature of music shaped me into the writer I am today.

And what’s interesting is that my muse hasn’t changed. When I was younger, I felt inspired by Oli Sykes from Bring Me the Horizon, and he continues to inspire me now. Through him, I learned that as an artist you can’t be afraid to evolve. A lot of artists get stuck—they resist change or feel like they can’t grow—but the ones who embrace it are the ones who thrive. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Bring Me the Horizon just played the biggest show of their career, over a decade after their first album. To me, that’s proof of what happens when you keep pushing forward creatively instead of staying in the same safe place.

That’s the energy I carry into my own work. It reminds me that my best work is still ahead of me, and that as long as I keep evolving, keep challenging myself, and keep putting my raw emotions into my art, I’ll continue to create things that connect with people the way that music once and still does connect with me.

What did suffering teach you that success never could?
To be present in the moment. To always, and I mean always, put your family first. You’ll never regret it. One lesson I am forever grateful to have learned early on in life is that while a career is great, you’re never going to reflect on your deathbed that you wish you had worked more. A lot of people have sadly demonized having a family or children, and it’s really sad – my kids give me purpose and meaning in a way success never could.

Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. What are the biggest lies your industry tells itself?
I think audiences absolutely want original work. For years, people have been asking—almost begging—for more original films, but it felt like Hollywood wasn’t always listening. It’s interesting, because for an industry that’s inherently built on risk—every film is a gamble—there was a real hesitancy to take risks on the art itself.

That said, we’ve seen some incredible examples in recent years where filmmakers pushed boundaries, brought something fresh to the table, and were rewarded for it. Those films didn’t just resonate critically, they performed really well at the box office too, which proves that audiences are ready for originality when it’s done with vision and confidence.

There’s also been a lot of conversation around streaming, with some saying it “ruined” the business. Personally, I don’t see it that way. I think the industry has evolved. And while that shift has been disruptive, it’s also created new opportunities. As Littlefinger famously said in Game of Thrones, “Chaos is a ladder.” If you’re adaptable and willing to think differently, there’s enormous potential in these new landscapes

Okay, we’ve made it essentially to the end. One last question before you go. How do you know when you’re out of your depth?
One of the biggest lessons filmmaking has taught me—something that’s really bled into my life—is that it’s okay not to be the master of everything. Yes, you can try to do it all yourself, but is that really the best way to get it done? Filmmaking is the clearest example of that truth. When a movie really works, it’s never just because of a director or a producer—it’s because of an entire team, a crew of talented individuals all bringing their best to the table. That collaboration is where the magic truly happens.

I’ve learned to recognize when I don’t know best, and when it’s time to let someone else take the lead. Trusting in others’ expertise has not only elevated my work but also made my life richer. It’s freeing to realize that you don’t have to carry everything alone—sometimes the best thing you can do is create the space for others to shine.

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