Hi, my name is Kai Vygor and I am the writer of Judges of Being, a dark sci-fi feature exploring themes of conception, privacy, and societal loss of hope in a dystopian world. Sci-fi is a notoriously difficult genre to pitch, especially compared to drama, because it often demands world-building, complex themes, and visual execution that can be hard to grasp from words alone. But I believe audiences crave morally ambiguous, high-level sci-fi, something the industry is beginning to fully embrace.
Take Love, Death & Robots—it proved that younger audiences are drawn to hard-hitting, intelligent sci-fi, while Black Mirror thrived by tackling low-concept dystopian futures. Game of Thrones popularized merciless storytelling, and Stranger Things mixed horror with child protagonists, reshaping genre expectations. Sci-fi has long been dominated by family-friendly blockbusters, focusing more on spectacle than deep philosophical and moral dilemmas. But The Matrix, Blade Runner, Dune, and Alien prove that dark sci-fi resonates deeply when done right.
One major theme in Judges of Being is conception. In this world, natural childbirth is outlawed, replaced by genetically engineered "gene-babies" controlled by the ruling elite. It reflects real-world debates on reproductive rights—abortion, overpopulation, and government intervention in family planning. The Heavens replace the lower class rather than allowing them to reproduce, echoing historical and modern policies of population control.
Another is privacy. Every citizen has a "Moon" implant, a device tracking and recording everything they see. It’s a plausible future technology, much like the idea of Neuralink, where personal autonomy is stripped away in the name of control. My short film demonstrated how technology meant for justice can become a tool of oppression—a chilling parallel to modern surveillance.
Finally, Judges of Being explores societal loss of hope, a theme I see growing stronger in today's world. Climate change, economic disparity, and political instability have led to a generation detached and apathetic, many are convinced that change is impossible and simply don’t care for action. The people of Archeston, my dystopian city, reflect this—they’re passive, numb, and resigned to their fate. The rebellion within the film represents the last flicker of resistance, a fight to rekindle lost optimism.
Visually, this isn’t a neon-lit cyberpunk city—it’s a massive, empty, vertical dystopia, where towering structures rise into the clouds and the ground is never seen, only a foggy abyss below. It defies typical sci-fi tropes, setting it apart from the genre’s usual aesthetic.
This project has been my passion for years. I started as a writer in North Queensland, graduating in 2018, and I’ve spent years developing an extensive sci-fi universe. This film takes place at the beginning of that journey, with over 300,000 words already written for its wider story. Knowing I needed to prove myself, I spent four years making my short film, moving to Melbourne to find a team. That team now includes storyboard artist Anthony Thanaxay, composer Tom Godbert, and writers Gabrielle Angelone, Peter McGregor, and Brok Power, alongside other key collaborators.
I urge you to watch my short film—it’s the clearest pitch I can make. It proves my ability to execute this world, my vision, and my dedication all with my team. This is a big, risky sci-fi project, but I believe in it wholeheartedly. And more importantly—I believe audiences are ready for it.