Director's Works
SPLICE Jordan Chandler
Jordan Chandler is a film director based in London, known for her unapologetic and emotionally charged approach to filmmaking. Her work blends bold, quirky visuals with deeply resonant narratives, creating a unique aesthetic that pushes boundaries. After graduating with a BA in Performance Design and Practice from Central Saint Martins, Jordan wrote and directed award-winning live performances showcased in London, Edinburgh, New York, and Adelaide. Transitioning to film, she completed her MA in Directing Fiction at the National Film and Television School, where her debut short film was nominated for Best UK Short at the Raindance Film Festival. With a focus on the female experience, Jordan's art reflects a fearless, authentic perspective, inviting audiences into an immersive world where complexity and raw emotion meet vibrant, unorthodox storytelling. Driven by a deep passion for her craft, she continues to create work that challenges, thrills, and leaves a lasting impact.
I have a very strong connection to dance. Growing up in Ipswich, my saving grace was the creative arts youth programs, which engaged kids in culture, introducing them to an alternative worlds. Theatre, physical theatre, and dance became gateways to something transformative. One of my heroes as a teenager wasn’t the front man of a boy band, it was GECKO. To this day, the surrealism, the lighting, the melodrama akin to genre film making, and the atmospheric presence their work brings have inspired my film making and shaped me into the storyteller I am today. Splice transitioned to screen after I saw a live performance of the show at The Place as part of the Resolution Festival. I had first seen them Faye and Hannah perform in the underground ballroom scene and became a huge fan ever since. Well, I and the rest of the audience were completely blown away, transfixed. I’d never seen anything quite like it, just totally wowed us all. Watching the weaving in and out of these two bodies, so beautifully trained and so expressive and new, was addictive. Simply put, I adored it. Splice sparked so much excitement and inspiration that I begged them to let me translate it to screen. Watching behind a lens allows you to bring an intimacy to the work, to highlight intricate details that might have been missed. For example, their hands looked like lotus flowers amidst the vast black box theatre space, which was the beginning of the idea for the film. We ran with it, the lotus flowers, and of course, had the eclectic, goosebump-inducing music fuelling the direction of the narrative. The marriage of Sam’s music and the language of movement felt very dystopian to me. The concept sort of wrote itself from watching the choreography on repeat, as though their limbs were replacing the text of a script, with the music acting as the plot structure. The Concept: Two little lotus flowers are born and witness the consequences of our terrible life choices. We watch them process this information, experiencing a mixture of despair, anguish, a call to arms, retreat, and a desperate need for connection, understanding that oneness is the key to survival and acceptance of the reality they were given. They emerge, despairing, unable to face reality. They dive into water and come out completely contaminated with oil. They will themselves to action, coming together to find strength in unity. They explore the architecture of one another and venture into a museum where others like them have been preserved. They break free into the abyss and long for home. But it’s all very abstract. We never wanted anything literal. At the time, I was fascinated with colour theory, light, and everything to do with crystals. Colour theory explores how colours can affect mood, perception, and emotion. Light refraction, the bending of light as it passes through different mediums, reveals hidden depths and layers, much like the complex interplay of emotions and connections in dance. I loved how light danced and revealed secrets when shone through prisms or water; it felt quite apt. I wanted to explore how light, colour, and movement could create an evolving narrative on screen. I injected this into the film, aiming for the light to be manipulated by the incredibly complex choreography— ensuring both mediums of art influenced each other. When working with the cinematographer and production designer, we called Act 2 “CRYSTAL.” Crystallization represents unity—coming together to form a stronger, more resilient structure. Just as crystals form intricate patterns from chaos, the dancers’ movements symbolise finding beauty and strength amid destruction. Although the world is destroyed, beauty can still be found in the fundamental elements of life. I didn’t want it to be all doom and gloom. There’s hope for humanity still. But Splice was always about Hannah and Faye and how best to capture their creation and talent. The camera movements, editing, and design were all kept as minimal as possible to leave space for the choreography and performance to tell the story—the architecture of people.