Kynan Dias is an actor and award-winning screenwriter, born in Honolulu and raised in Las Vegas. Inspired at an early age by great American playwrights such as Tennessee Williams, Arthur Miller, and Edward Albee, Kynan taught himself to write feature-length screenplays as a 14-year-old high school student. He earned a B.A. in film from the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, where he pursued acting, screenwriting, and directing. Later, Kynan earned his MFA in screenwriting from the University of California, Los Angeles, where he developed a love for writing TV sitcoms that were further nurtured during his time studying improv comedy at the Upright Citizens Brigade.
As a writer, Kynan’s films tend to live within the thin space between the humorous and the tragic, in sarcastic dramas and in comedies that hurt. As an actor, he is often hired to cry in comedies. With Lester Ryan Clark, Kynan co-hosts a series of film history podcasts on the TruStory.FM network that are meticulously researched yet lean heavily on improvised comedy.
Teaching at UNLV FILM since 2008, Kynan has developed a wide variety of courses in film production, directing, acting, screenwriting, and film studies, being especially proud of building classes such as Women in Comedy and Queer Cinema. His research interests include animation history, studio system economics, queer coding in classic film, and foregrounding previously unsung collaborators within major film authors’ historiographies.
Evelyn KOs a SWAT guy, can’t stop bragging, and Alpha Waymond says her stupid plan just might work—plus we unpack the Smash Bros sound, rare genuine smiles, and Goonies-era Ke Huy Quan.
Evelyn snorts a fly, grows a muscular pinky, and demolishes the Edgelord—and we unpack why the Daniels swapped leg-caressing for absurdist comedy to save the Gong Gong arc.
Evelyn bounces through universes, the Le brothers unite with (not quite) matching butt plug trophies and we decode “Pokai Michiko”, all with a Street Fighter aesthetic and heavenly choir.
Revelation ends not with a sword or smiting — but a river, a tree, and grace. John would like a word with everyone using this book to justify the very thing it condemns.
Chelsea Stardust leads Pete, Kynan, and Tommy in an exploration of three horror films made for almost nothing — and built to last. The Battery, Starry Eyes, and Hellbender prove that a great script and a fearless performance can outrun any budget, especially when transformation is the whole point.
Pixelation philosophy, Shaolin kinesiology, and Brian Le’s spread-eagle leap onto the Auditor Award—minute 80 goes places the film and our conversation both can’t resist.
We read Revelation 21 and discover the New Jerusalem isn’t waiting for us in the clouds — it’s a cube the size of a continent coming down here, and the gates are never shut.
After losing their powers, Evelyn and Andy slap-fight like kids while Waymond asks “what happened?” Best moment? Evelyn’s incredulous “WHAT?!” when Joy suggests blowing his nose.
One Greek word about testing coins. One passage in Revelation 20. Possibly the entire fire-and-brimstone version of hell built on a misread.
Cake knife vs. pipes. A raccoon-tail Chad. Hidden song lyrics in the score. Evelyn’s face after her laptop gets swatted mid-throw says everything. Universe-hopping has never been this unhinged.