INSIDE “BREED OF GREED”: GINA GERSHON & ANDREW BOSZHARDT — EXCLUSIVE
Independent cinema has always thrived on risk—creative, financial, and emotional. In Breed of Greed, that risk becomes part of the narrative itself. Written, produced, and led by Andrew Boszhardt, the film plunges into a darkly satirical world where inherited power, unchecked wealth, and moral decay collide with supernatural consequence.
At the center of the story is Henry, an outsider navigating a venomous pharmaceutical dynasty cursed not only by ancient forces, but by the real-world sins that built its fortune. Acting opposite Gina Gershon, Boszhardt crafts a performance shaped by tension, vulnerability, and a willingness to meet danger head-on—both onscreen and behind the scenes. Gershon’s formidable presence brings an unpredictable charge to the film, elevating the psychological stakes and sharpening its critique of greed and legacy.
In this exclusive interview, Boszhardt opens up about the realities of wearing multiple creative hats, the lessons learned from producing independently, and why embracing imperfection is often the price of artistic freedom. He reflects candidly on the film’s genre-blending ambitions, the challenges of balancing satire with horror, and how the curse at the heart of Breed of Greed functions as both metaphor and indictment—of family, capitalism, and history’s recurring patterns.
From Off-Broadway stages to independent film sets, Boszhardt’s creative philosophy is rooted in authorship and agency: if the roles don’t exist, write them. As he looks toward future projects in comedy and dramedy, his work continues to orbit one central question—what happens when people are forced to confront who they really are, once the illusions of power and success begin to crack?
Gina Gershon and Andrew Boszhardt were captured exclusively for The Untitled Magazine in New York City by Indira Cesarine. The portraits extend the conversation beyond the screen and ground Breed of Greed in both performance and presence. Read on for our full interview with Boszhardt and more from the shoot below.
First things first—working opposite Gina Gershon is no small energy shift. What was it like navigating that creative chemistry with someone of her stature, and how did her presence influence the tone or tension of your scenes together?
I was a little nervous at first, to be sure. Once Gina and I got into a rhythm, though, the nerves dissipated. Once you do a few movies with “name talent,” you realize that actors of Gina’s stature are just people too. They are people doing a job, like you. They might not show it, but they also have moments of insecurity, self-doubt, etc. I think when you realize this, it is quite liberating. You feel like you can hold your own with them. And I did.
You wrote, produced, and starred in Breed of Greed. Wearing that many hats can be exhilarating and brutal in equal measure—what were the moments that pushed you the hardest, and what parts of the process made you feel like, “This is why I’m doing it this way”?
I think the hardest two jobs to juggle at the same time are acting and producing. Yes, you’re still, in a sense, rewriting the script even once you’re in production (and editing), but acting and producing require input from two very different parts of the brain and really require your all when you’re in production. Producing is also an incredibly difficult and demanding job. Most people (myself included a few years ago) don’t realize how difficult it is. I might produce in the future, but, to be sure, I consider myself an actor and a writer primarily. Directing is in my future as well.
Gina Gershon has a reputation for bringing complexity and unpredictability to her roles. Did she bring anything to the character—or to your scenes together—that fundamentally shifted your own performance in ways you didn’t expect?
There’s a “danger” that Gina’s able to tap into, which, when contrasted with her beauty, makes her very compelling to watch. A lot of actors will kinda “phone it in” when the camera’s not on them, but not Gina. She gave me a lot to work off of. Frankly, if I could go back, I would write more scenes with just our two characters!
The movie has a distinctive, genre-blending tone—part psychological drama, part supernatural thriller, part dark satire. When you think about its personality as a film, how would you describe the voice or atmosphere you were aiming for?
“Fun and eclectic.” Because we were an entirely independent production, we were able to take certain creative liberties that a studio film or a film with a major production company behind it might not be able to take. Now, that being said, I think the film’s strength in this regard is also its weakness. Candidly, I think we needed to skew more in a single direction—we either needed to make the movie funnier so it could be marketed as a pure horror/thriller comedy, or we needed to make it scarier.
At its core, the film confronts greed, legacy, and the rot within a powerful family. What themes or messages were you hoping to crack open through the story, and how did the curse metaphor help you sharpen those ideas?
Clichés exist for a reason… it’s because they are, in a way, truths. “Power and money corrupt.” How many books, plays, and movies/TV shows have we seen that explore that idea? And yet, we never get bored of watching the worst of humanity (assuming the creators have added their own style and spin to the characters and story). I mean, Shakespeare and the Greeks were exploring all the same questions that we’re still (futilely) trying to answer today. As I’ve gotten a little older and wiser, I’ve also started to fervently believe in the phrase (from the Bible) that “there’s nothing new under the sun” and the Mark Twain quote, “history doesn’t repeat, but it often rhymes.” The curse aspect works because it’s effectively handed down by the father who made the family fortune off of dangerous opioids. So while the family is indeed cursed/haunted by a supernatural force from the outside, they are also, in a sense, cursed by the father’s actions.
You’ve mentioned the film’s humble beginnings—can you walk us through how this project evolved from an initial idea into a fully realized feature? Was there a moment early on when you knew you had to make this story no matter what?
Otto Eckstein and I had an idea for an “eat the rich” short film that we were all set to make, and then COVID hit. The goal of the short was always to turn it into a feature film, and now that the industry was dead and we had nothing but time, we thought to ourselves, why not write the feature and try to get that made? We went through a few producers before deciding to produce it ourselves, along with Ralph Hemecker, who also directed the film. We raised the money, got Gina on board, and cast the rest of the film after that. It was about two years from when we had the first draft finished. The film, at the time (and still today), seemed both timely and timeless.
Is there a scene or moment in the film that you look at now with particular pride—either because of the performance, the writing, or just how the creative team pulled it off? What makes that moment meaningful for you?
As a writer, I feel I often give my best lines to other actors (why the hell do I do this?). I absolutely love the “coked out Oedipus monologue” that Adrian Enscoe so beautifully and hilariously pulled off. For a scene to “work,” there’s so much that needs to fall into place. I watch that scene and it just works for me. I’m proud of the acting, writing… I love the lighting, staging, set design, and how Ralph directed it and had Adrian break the fourth wall and talk directly into the camera. Everything works in that scene.
Every film teaches you something. If you were to revisit Breed of Greed years from now with new tools and new perspective, what’s one element you’d be excited to experiment with or approach differently?
I write comedy well, and most of my projects in the future will be comedic (or at the very least they will be “dramedies”). If I could redo Breed of Greed, I would lean into the comedy more from a writing perspective. I would’ve made it unequivocally clear that you are supposed to—and allowed to—laugh during this movie.
Independent filmmaking often requires a kind of creative relentlessness. Was there a particular obstacle during production—financial, logistical, or creative—that ended up strengthening the film or reshaping its direction?
There were a number of frivolous scenes we had to cut because we were behind schedule. There was a lot more we could’ve cut. When I saw a rough cut of the film, it was nearly two hours long. We cut 25 minutes from that. In hindsight, I look at the scenes that didn’t make the final cut and I understand why. Mainly, they didn’t really move the plot forward. So while this knowledge didn’t necessarily aid this project, it has helped me since, especially as a writer, because having produced Breed of Greed, I have a better sense of what’s truly crucial to a story (and also what is going to cost a ton of money). When you watch a great movie like As Good As It Gets or The Departed (just the two examples that came to mind), there’s not a single superfluous scene or moment or line of dialogue. Those movies are so damn tight.
Acting, writing, producing—each of these taps into a different part of the creative brain. What part of the process feels the most essential to who you are as an artist, and how do those roles feed each other?
Acting and writing, for sure. People love to ask me, “If you had to pick one…?” And I tell them, “I couldn’t.” I would literally go insane if I couldn’t write—it is freeing, therapeutic, and cathartic. Well, guess what? So is acting for me. The better I get at writing, the better I get at acting, and vice versa. Directing is a natural next step for me because now, when I write, I can’t help but see the movie in my head. And actors always make great directors (Elia Kazan, George Clooney, Bradley Cooper, etc.) because, well, they know how to talk to actors—and they know how to cast. Speaking of casting, I think we truly batted a thousand in this regard. There’s not a single actor or actress in the film who is not believable and compelling in their part.
You’ve built a path in independent film and theatre while also developing your own work. From your vantage point, how do you see the industry shifting right now, and where do you think the greatest opportunities (or obstacles) are for artists creating their own content?
Yeesh… who knows. I think it’s more important than ever to hone your own voice as a creative. Do not try to imitate someone else. Sure, you can be inspired by others, but you really need to figure out who you are and what you want to say. I think you also have to market yourself now and be much more proactive than you used to be. You can’t just sit around waiting for your manager or agent to present you with opportunities. You have to make your own. This is one of the reasons I started writing six years ago, and thank God I did and really stuck with it, because I’m now at a place where I’ve found my voice and have about five thousand hours of writing under my belt.
When you think back to your early years, what experiences or personal fascinations first nudged you toward darker, morally complex storytelling? Were there moments that made you think, “This is the kind of world I want to build as a writer”?
At first, I didn’t approach this project from a moral standpoint. I thought, what do I know? What can I write about that will sound and seem authentic and real? And while I (fortunately) don’t have a terrible, messed up family like the Wendolyns, I certainly know people who do. I certainly have been around people like the characters in this film many times. So at first it was just… let’s write about some messed up rich people. And then I stumbled on the whole pharma angle.
You’ve worked both on stage and in film since the beginning of your career. How did those early theatre experiences—especially performing Shakespeare—shape your sense of character, rhythm, and emotional architecture as a writer and actor?
I actually got into theater after making this movie. Most of my work prior to Breed of Greed had been in film. I’ve trained as a theater actor (Strasberg) and now work as both a film and stage actor. I think every actor should do plays. It’s the purest form of acting and demands so much of you. I was doing an Off-Broadway play last fall and got a terrible cold, but I still had to get up on stage for three and a half hours every single night (not to mention bleeding out on stage for eight minutes). You learn that the show really “must go on,” and I’ve found that stage work has actually made me a much better film actor. I like what Willem Dafoe said when asked about the difference between screen and stage acting… something along the lines of, “All acting is stage acting; it’s just the frame.”
You often write strong supporting roles for yourself. How do you walk the line between writing to your strengths and challenging yourself to grow, and what have you learned about your own artistic identity through that process?
Great question. I do think there’s a case to be made, especially at the start of your career, for really playing into your type. I think for the first ten to fifteen years of your career, you’re going to play characters who are very close to who you are. So the characters I write for myself are “right in my wheelhouse,” so to speak. That said, I’ve been told by a number of industry professionals that I’m really a character actor with leading man qualities. I’m actually quite versatile, and I’ve played everything from a tennis pro to a member of the KKK (I do high class and low class both very well… maybe it’s the long hair). In the future, I want to play more challenging, out-of-my-comfort-zone characters (like Christian Bale or Daniel Day-Lewis do), but for the time being, I’m writing characters that I can play who are very close to who I am.
You’ve got a TV show, a feature, and a play in development—an impressive creative ecosystem. What themes or questions are driving your work at the moment, and what are you most excited to bring into the world next?
My writing has become more and more personal in an exciting—and also frightening—way. I say frightening because it’s exposing and quite vulnerable. In a world that’s been saturated with so much content, I think the best way to break through the noise is by being personal and authentic. My projects going forward are not really “genre films” in the way Breed of Greed is. They are either straight-up comedies or dramedies. A lot of the characters in my current projects are struggling to bridge the gap between adolescence and adulthood. Their growth has been stunted in some way, or they have a reluctance to settle down, accept their age, etc. This is something that I (to a degree) am experiencing right now, and I think it’s something that is universally experienced by all men and women in their 30s. Again, the more specific and personal you get, the more you realize that (on the inside) we are all pretty much the same. We’ve all, at some point, shared the same thoughts, hopes, and fears.
Photography and Interveiw by Indira Cesarine @indiracesarine @icphotoarchive
Talent: Gina Gershon @ginagershon, Andrew Boszhardt @andrew_boszhardt
Styling by Kris Fraser @krisfashion1
Make-up and Hair by Roberto Morelli @robertomorelli1
Assistants: Kiley Cacace, Jane Kim, Serinda Cai
