From Butt Boy to a feral mermaid romance, writer/director TYLER CORNACK leans into the absurd—and finds surprising heart.
There are films that defy easy categorization—and then there’s MERMAID, writer/director Tyler Cornack’s latest plunge into the absurd, the grotesque, and—perhaps most unexpectedly—the deeply human.
I first spoke with Cornack back in 2020 about his debut feature Butt Boy, a film as hilariously twisted as its title suggests. So stepping into MERMAID, one might reasonably expect more of the same brand of shock-driven oddity. Instead, what emerges is something far more interesting: growth.
“A lot of this isn’t really a mermaid movie,” Cornack tells me. “It’s about loneliness…about people who live in this subculture in Florida.”
And at the center of it all is Doug.
A Lovable Lost Soul…with a Mermaid Problem
Doug, played with disarming sincerity by Johnny Pemberton, is a drug-addled, socially awkward man whose life is already teetering when he discovers an injured mermaid in the Gulf waters.
But this is no storybook siren.
This creature—named Destiny—is feral, damaged, and, at times, downright horrifying. She spews black tar-like bile. Her teeth evoke something closer to nightmare than fantasy. And yet…Doug sees a girlfriend.
Uh oh.
And somehow—against all odds—you understand why.
“That was the most important choice,” Cornack says of casting Pemberton. “On paper, this guy isn’t the greatest guy on Earth. But Johnny brings such a natural light…so much silliness and awkwardness.”
The result is a tonal tightrope that MERMAID walks with surprising confidence: a one-sided romantic comedy wrapped inside a creature feature, grounded by a performance that invites empathy where none should logically exist. And that’s the trick. You don’t just watch Doug—you root for him.
Not Your Disney Mermaid (Not Even Close)
Cornack was adamant from the outset: this would not be Splash, nor The Shape of Water, nor any of the century’s worth of cinematic mermaid mythology.
“I wanted to do a mermaid like nobody’s seen,” he says. “If you found something in the Gulf of Mexico… it wouldn’t be pretty. It would be scuffed up and messed up.”
The design reflects that philosophy. This is a creature shaped by environment, not fantasy—more animal than myth. And yet, thanks to thoughtful prosthetics and cinematography by Joe Lavold, there remains an unexpected visual beauty—an iridescence that flickers through the grime.
It’s a contradiction that mirrors Doug himself.
Florida as Character, Not Backdrop
For Cornack, authenticity begins with place.
“I grew up in this town where we shot,” he explains. “These characters—I’ve seen them my whole life.”
From beach bar regulars (a scene-stealing Robert Patrick sporting a gloriously over-the-top tan) to suburban oddities straight out of lived experience, MERMAID populates its world with people who feel less written than observed.
“I start with characters,” Cornack says. “The mermaid comes later.”
That approach grounds the film, giving emotional context to even its most outlandish elements. This isn’t surrealism detached from reality—it’s surrealism rooted in it.
Visual Grammar: Sunlight, Claustrophobia, and the Real
Working again with cinematographer Joe Lavold, Cornack leans into a visual style that favors immediacy over stylization.
“We wanted it to feel like you’re actually in the room,” he says. “Because we were.”
That commitment is especially evident in the film’s most intimate—and physically constrained—sequences, particularly those set in Doug’s cramped bathroom, where Destiny is hidden. The result is a tactile, almost claustrophobic realism. No sweeping fantasy lighting. No romanticized glow. Just heat, tight spaces, and the uncomfortable proximity of man and monster.
And notably, much of the horror unfolds in broad daylight.
“That felt true to Florida,” Cornack notes.
Collaboration, Chaos, and a 10-Day Mermaid
If MERMAID feels organic, it’s because much of it was forged in real-time problem-solving.
The mermaid itself was a last-minute scramble.
“We lost the actor and had to rebuild everything,” Cornack explains. “The suit was made in ten days.”
Ten.
What followed was a collaborative whirlwind—bringing in performer Avery Potemri (whose background in dance informed the creature’s feral physicality) and prosthetic designer Mark Villalobos to create something that feels both visceral and alive.
“It almost worked out better,” Cornack reflects. “Those problems lead to better solutions.”
It’s a philosophy that extends across the film—from editing with Cole Eckerle (who was embedded in every phase of production) to Cornack unexpectedly composing the score himself.
Sound, Tone, and a Surprisingly Melancholic Pulse
That score—synth-driven, atmospheric, and tinged with melancholy—became a guiding force during production.
“I had it done before we started shooting,” Cornack says. “We would play it on set. It helped everyone understand the tone—how sad this actually is.”
Sad.
It’s not the first word one might associate with a film about a man hiding a feral mermaid in his bathroom. And yet, it’s precisely that undercurrent that elevates MERMAID beyond novelty.
Even Robert Patrick, Cornack notes with amusement, was listening to the score while riding his Harley.
“It made me laugh,” he says. “But it worked.”
From Chaos Comes Growth
If MERMAID proves anything, it’s that Cornack is evolving—not away from his offbeat sensibilities, but deeper into them.
“I learned to let things happen,” he says. “Things go wrong—but those solutions are often better than what you planned.”
It’s an indie filmmaking ethos, certainly—but also a creative one.
“It becomes something else,” he adds. “Like a painting. It’s alive.”
Love, in All Its Strange Forms
At its core, MERMAID is not about a creature.
It’s about connection.
About loneliness.
About the human tendency to project meaning—and love—onto the things we don’t fully understand. Or, in Doug’s case…onto something that probably wants to bite his face off.
And yet, in Cornack’s hands, even that feels oddly…sweet.
by debbie elias, exclusive interview 04/02/2026
With a cast that features Johnny Pemberton, Avery Potemri, Kevin Nealon, Kirk Fox, Julia Larson, Devyn McDowell, and Tom Arnold with Robert Patrick and Kevin Dunn. . .
MERMAID is in select theatres on April 8, 2026.
