Welcome to LeddySetGo!

We are delighted that you’ve stumbled upon our page. Who are we? We are a community of content creators brought together by me, Matthew August Leddy, with the goal of enlightening, titillating, challenging and expanding our consciousness through mind-bending artistic creations. But we know that seeing is believing, so please take a look at this playlist of trailers of our weird and kooky body of work:

We invite you to join our community by subscribing to our website and social channels.




Dearest family,

I write to you with not only my personal plight, but that of many who have dared to think for themselves and landed squarely opposed to the mainstream narrative. The weight on my shoulders comes not from a wounded ego or a stubborn mind but, rather, my inability to find common ground with you and achieve what we all truly want: unity. 

The good news is that I have fresh eyes and I think I can see a way out of this mess. But, first, a little backstory.

You, dear baby boomers, come from a classical age where the press appeared to be the great equalizer, the champion of the common man, exposing the sins of the elite. It was the “free press,” after all, and, with no competition from the internet and its many uncontrolled channels of first amendment bliss, it was easy to digest that narrative. And there were some great journalists, entertainers and what we now call “influencers” sticking their middle finger to The Man through extraordinary work. Those speeches from the film Network still ring as true as ever. 

In my lifetime, however, our sources of information have multiplied exponentially. Yet the Wizard behind the curtain still rears his ugly head in the form of a few corporations and a handful of Silicon Valley social networks and platforms that have decided to play God with said information. Regardless, the truth persists, no matter how many ways they try to erase it or distort it. The trick is to recognize it in a world overwhelmed with deceitful theatrics vying for our attention.

That’s where your world and mine collide, dear elders. You see, through terrible tragedy, my generation was given the opportunity to dig for the truth through open-source journalism and communal research. We saw the twin towers go down along with the rest of the world. And the question was no longer, “how did this happen?” but, “which version do you believe?” Suddenly, “inside job” became part of our vocabulary. And, through my own curiosity, I found the answers that resonated best with me, leading to my eventual friendship with the men who made the first “truther” film about 9/11. This, my friends, was a seminal moment in time. A moment where citizens proved better journalists and filmmakers than the ones with the big bucks. A moment where many of us saw that the truth doesn’t necessarily come from the fancy news stations and periodicals. As a matter of fact, it seldom does.

Fast-forward to 2020. That bitch. Where, oh where, to start? In this day and age, the internet is no longer the outlier of media but the primary source. And yet, the Wizard continues to play his tricky games to the point where a narrative, flowing from those same corporations and Silicon Valley sources, is so obviously engineered for those with the eyes to see it. Whereas before, they only needed to worry about a handful of TV channels and newspapers, they now had to manufacture consent for the entire subscription cable package and internet audience. This means they have to use psychology to make sure you don’t believe anything that they can’t control. Slowly but surely, even YouTube became ThemTube. So they dubbed critical analyses of false flags, psyops and social engineering agendas simply, “conspiracy theories,” worthy only of mockery. If they could time travel, they would have called the Zapruder film an unhinged, dangerous, racist, sexist, anti-semitic, far-right wing nonsense conspiracy propaganda piece. And you would have believed ‘em. 

It is at this juncture that I ask you to consider which stories have been dubbed with those exact same descriptors. I will admit, in my less critical days, that I fell for it too. If a story sounded ridiculous, I would mock it along with the late night comics and overpaid news actors. But, you see, public relations runs through my blood, as well as revolutionary iconoclasm, so I would eventually catch up with the truth: it’s all a big lie to make you love your slavery.

Alright, I will tone down my rhetoric, since I know how you will react if I get too wild on my soap box. But I started this letter with a pledge to resolve this impasse between us. You see, you come from an age where you chose the best option you had before you. And that option was the free press. But today, with a million information options, you must realize that this free press is simply the most powerful avenue that the Wizard has to program the minds of the masses. Those of us who were raised in the ashes of a more innocent time saw that we had to dig deeper. And that the truth would only appear through good-willed citizen journalists devoid of any agenda except truth. Movements come and go but the truth endures.

And so, with that spirit of seeking truth in a world of lies, I have made my way through many movements like punk rock, the vegan revolution, occupying wall street, #FreeAssange, Bernie Sanders, and, as of late, #SaveOurChildren and Q. You will notice there appears to be a radical shift there, if you view the world on a binary axis. And I did not mention the most popular movements of today. That’s because those movements are compromised. Like with any clever deception, the Wizard will latch onto some truth and manipulate it to gain support for his own agenda. Before you condemn me as callous or un-woke, please remember I was out there covering police brutality, documenting progressive issues and speaking out against racial profiling long before the current engineered movements appeared on the scene. 

I can hear your judgments already. I have changed. I am a fool. I am easily deceived. Actually, my allegiance has always been true only to the truth. And sometimes the truth becomes compromised. And only awakened eyes can recognize the disguise. 

Without taking you through every step of my personal journey, I just ask for your compassion in comprehending how I landed on Q at this moment in time. In short, I was fully consumed by the fear of a New World Order. I saw the signs and it was real. But, try as they may, even with the present tempests, it has not manifested. Because Q, a secret plan decades in the making, was the antidote. And, if it is truly true–and I believe it is–then we are living through the single most transformative moment in time since Jesus Christ and the creation of Earth itself. We are coming into an age where all our biases will melt away in the wonder of a new system that frees us from our shackles and allows us simply to live how God intended. But I will save my thoughts on this subject for another letter.

For now, I have a modest request. Please refrain from judging or mocking anything that sounds outlandish or even offensive. For mockery is the opposite of compassion. And we all need compassion more than ever right now. That is the way out of this mess. Yes, the world has some problems. But, in this timeline, we have dodged not only a bullet but a nuclear holocaust, according to my deepest research and intuition. I will delve more deeply into this soon. 

For the moment, let’s be grateful that we are here and remember that the only real pandemic is one of fear. And on the other side of fear is love. And forgiveness. And compassion. And, although I often fail at all these things, I share my thoughts because I love you and I want you to be free with me. 

Until next time, take care of your body and your mind, dearest elders. And thank you for paving the way for us, the critical thinkers of the internet age, forever seeking truth.


Matthew, et al

OPT OUT (a short film)

We are pleased to share our latest creation, a short film called


It’s about love and fascism and robots and transhumanism and humanity’s perpetual fight for freedom.

It also has a cute dog.

Here is the link to the short film: https://youtu.be/Wys9sn_Mi2s
And here is a playlist with the trailer, the short film and two behind-the-scenes videos: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLR9VBFMSEe8xMkKzsHpLAcVdnHgSCDMBz

Our distribution plan for this film is LOVE so we’re sharing the love with you and invite you to pay it forward to your loved ones.

Here at @leddysetgotv we are creating cool things collectively and organically. So please share the love and tell us what we should make next. If you want an associate producer credit, your donation and ideas will be applied to our next creative projects.

Please click here to contribute  😘https://leddysetgo.tv/2020/08/10/wanna-be-an-associate-producer/

We only send fun-filled emails out once in a blue moon so please reach out to be added to our mailing list. You can always OPT OUT but we will have to send the robots after you. Thanks for tuning in!


Leddy Set Go Productions


Wanna be an associate producer?

Here at @leddysetgotv we focus on creating cool things collectively and organically. So please share the love and tell us what we should make next. If you want an associate producer credit, your donation and ideas will be applied to our next creative projects. Please click below to contribute.



You can also support us by subscribing, sharing and celebrating our work! If you’re here, you’re already a member of our creative fam.

Thanks for being a part of it!

Find us on Facebook, Instagram and YouTube:


2020: a global goodbye

or How I Learned To Continue Worrying and Brace For The Bomb
or The End Is Here
or Earth: Season Finale
or Predictive Programming: A Love Story
or The Human Show

by Matthew August Leddy

There are few moments in history in which the participants knew with certainty their world was about to change for good. Somehow, you and I, dear reader, chose to incarnate into such a time. We already know the world is changing. What frightens me most is that it is changing in the very way I foresaw over half a year ago, just before the proverbial fertilizer hit the ventilator.

It’s pointless to argue about what is truly happening in this very instant when there is a multi-billion dollar disinformation campaign coming from our very own corporatocracy. Every story that does not align with the official narrative is smeared and that smear is repeated endlessly until people regurgitate it ad nauseam, resulting in tragic indifference or hatred toward conspiracy facts. In turn, our collective minds succumb to the social engineering without seeing where it ultimately leads, like self-righteous little sheep shepherded into the abattoir. They have created a scorched-earth strategy towards molding our minds.

My mind, frankly, is tired of being molded when I know now as I knew seven months ago where this all leads. By knowing the destination, the steps along the way are no longer so surprising, although they are still traumatizing. When you realize you’ve seen the movie that you’re now living in, the only question remains, “what’s my role?” I don’t know if I’ve found the answer because the storyline is so grim. The story that is playing out before our very eyes has not yet passed through the dark night of the soul. But covering my eyes will not turn the movie off.

Sure enough, movies are one of the vessels through which the truth of this world came to me. As I learned more occult knowledge, I began to notice the signs and symbols and predictive programming that are displayed in our popular culture, softening our prefrontal cortex into accepting our potential future. Big-budget blockbusters became a treasure trove of symbology that could help me decipher where humanity is being led. The projects of the Nolan brothers, for example, were no longer simply stories about a caped crusader, a war fiasco and robot people. They became a roadmap for a global initiation ritual, a cataclysm that has already been planned and the transhumanist technocracy that will be forced upon us. If you look closely enough, you can see these clues among the work of all the greatest directors. And they all touch on the truth they are not allowed to confess freely: the world is run by a psychopathic secret society that is prepared to sacrifice us all to bring about their new world order.

That, I’m afraid, is the much-meme’d “red pill” that we all have to swallow.

I don’t know if knowing this helps much. I am still unable to single-handedly change the outcome of history if it has already been written for us. Once you accept that the people with the “End Is Near” signs are actually the sane ones, you are left only with a few simple questions to answer. How should I live? How should I die? How can I share the most love before I go? Before the movie ends, what role am I playing? And how can I make my story have a great freakin’ ending?

However this movie goes, I am reminded by the greatest story of all time that after a good life and death always comes resurrection. And that the light never dies.

To infinity, and beyond!

Kafkaesque, a radio thriller

Kafkaesque, a radio thriller
trailer and podcast pilot

A penniless transient takes shelter with an emotionally distraught female friend. One of them has a secret, evil agenda. The question is who? And who will get out alive?

Leddy Set Go Productions
a psychological thriller audio experience
and television pilot proof-of-concept
available on YouTube
and wherever you get your podcasts!
Written and directed by Matthew Leddy.
Starring: Annelisha Dixon, Matthew Leddy, Keith Ewell, Al Gerschutz, Autumn Palen and Chad and Cody Heffelfinger Original video footage, director of photography + poster art: Autumn Palen
This presentation contains some explicit language, drug use and scary moments.
Recommended for mature audiences only.

audio + video:

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLR9VBFMSEe8ylheCJk7FFkTuMxRz4jYU1

audio only:

Anchor: https://anchor.fm/leddysetgo

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/32wCdmWzQ3D8kgFmJrpfOB

Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/kafkaesque-a-radio-thriller/id1517440797

Google: https://podcasts.google.com/?feed=aHR0cHM6Ly9hbmNob3IuZm0vcy8yNTIxYTYxOC9wb2RjYXN0L3Jzcw%3D%3D

Breaker: https://www.breaker.audio/kafkaesque-a-radio-thriller

Overcast: https://overcast.fm/itunes1517440797/kafkaesque-a-radio-thriller

Pocket Casts: https://pca.st/rxba7p4l

Castro: https://castro.fm/podcast/12f66c5d-8fdc-4c55-bdd0-13d6517f12f8

Radio Public: https://radiopublic.com/kafkaesque-a-radio-thriller-8jdNpj

Leddy Set Go Productions:

The year of the dog-eat-dog

Getting through the wild whirlwind that has been my 2018, I slipped and somehow managed to neglect my fans, all four of you. In the words of Radiohead, “for a minute there, I lost myself.” But with every apparent death comes a rebirth (see: Jesus) and mine starts with reconnecting with you, dear reader (AKA mom, probably).

2018 has been sort of like a minefield where the mines have their own mines who in turn shoot out lasers toward my naughty bits. Quite unpleasant, if you ask me. I know I’m not the only one who has been tested during this ever-changing year. Chaos, natural disasters, injustices and the rotten core of humanity were on full display, reflecting our own turbulent nature. And that was just the New Year’s party. But I’m a storyteller and I knew these stories could not possibly all end in doom and gloom.

Sure enough, from the belly of the whale, I was able to see light. And, just in time, some Japanese fishermen pulled me out of that whale.  Because they just legalized whaling in Japan again.

What I discovered upon returning to civilization–back to community and friendship and love– is that the sociopaths of the Earth have their days numbered. The world they want to impose on us is a lie and it is decaying beneath their feet. The only world we will inherit is being built by collaboration, expression, joy, uninhibited creation and truth. I know, I know–crazy stuff.

I write down these bold ideas not as the manifesto of some lunatic–I’m saving that for later–but as the experiencer of grace in a world of lies. Having seen for myself how low some people will go for self-gain, I lost a great deal of faith in mankind. But I was saved by love and brought back to my mission: to create a sustainable new world together. It is, after all, the dawning of the age of Aquarius (Aquarius, Aquarius!)

Once I reconnected with old and new friends sharing a common purpose, we created some cool stuff together, built trust, made memories and helped each other out.

A few examples:

I was the guy who called out “take ninety seven” before clapping that clapper thing on a terrific TV pilot called Dr. Scotty’s Intergalactic Motel and Cafe, which could loosely be described as “Mr. Rogers in space with puppets.” I also got to fondle some of the puppets. With consent, of course.

I helped out my pal and director Dylan Avery and cinematographer Korey Rowe on this exceptionally creepy short film called “Trust Me” along with some dear friends.


I brushed up on my slapstick comedy skills to play a dim-witted coke fiend (somehow not a stretch) in a loony indie movie called The Ghost in the Air Conditioner. No further explanation necessary.


I also explored / made up the wildly brazen character of Smoke in my friends’ spec pilot Natushka & Elena, which is completely improvised and ridiculously entertaining.


I offered my free hands and other limbs to director Autumn Palen on the set of Worst Case Scenario, a short film about facing death and being saved by love. Sound familiar?


I returned to Underscore Films to help out with this delightfully silly Santa spot for MeUndies (“Less sexy, Santa! Less sexy!“)…

… followed by an adventurous spec commercial for (insert aviation company here once they hire us). The level of talent, professionalism and ambition on these shoots was inspiring. It reminded me that if I dream big enough, I too can one day grow up to be an airplane.


What else? Oh, yes, I got a job! A tele-screen job, no less, at a wonderfully diverse company.



As I mentioned, I’ve been so busy surfing the sometimes treacherous / sometimes exciting waves of this crazy year that I’ve forgotten to send you selfies of myself with every meal.

While I have enjoyed breaking the vice of device–at least a little–I have resolved to get out of my cocoon in 2019 and share the important things in life–like puppies, new creations and tasteful latte art. But I resolve that most of my sharing shall be in person, with the folks I love.

Finally–he said unpretentiously–I resolve to embody the spirit of revolution and lovingly tear down the matrix we inhabit. Because, if this system is a simulation, it’s totes lame and I’m quite confident we can build a better one. #buildabettersimulation

That’s all for 2018, year of the dog. 2019 will be the year of the pig. May your piggy be healthy, happy and cared for by vegans.

Now it’s your turn. What are you going to create?



My Kafkaesque nightmare with a sociopathic con man

My Kafkaesque nightmare with a sociopathic con man
by Matthew Leddy (@LeddySetGo)

There are people who operate in the shadows, whose entire existence is a fabrication; people who trade in dignity for self-gain and are incapable of empathy; people who never signed the social contract. These people are called sociopaths. They may seem almost human at first, sharing in all the social pleasantries of the civilized world. They will smile, pretend to care and even do you a favor or two. Beware. It’s a trap. I learned this the hard way recently by ignoring my wiser instincts and allowing such a person into my life. If you are wise, you won’t make the same mistake and become another cautionary tale.

Let’s say his name is Marion Maniel. Fifty years old. 5’11”. Bald. Pale. Thin. Frail. A bit evil looking. We met back in Mar Vista among some other shady characters of the loose-cannon hippie variety. He referred me to a tenant attorney when my slumlord refused to treat a black mold infestation. He seemed to take an almost unhealthy interest in the case, examining each legal angle of the situation. He pretended to be generous and would often mention how he could get anything for free because so many people owed him favors even as he asked me for favors. He had sob stories about how he had been screwed over. His apartment seemed strange, as though someone had just moved out suddenly. It was none of my business so I didn’t pay it any mind. But the clues were all there.

Several months passed. I moved. I didn’t hear from him and I was quite relieved by that. After crashing with friends for two months, I finally landed on a sweet sublet through the Facebook marketplace. It was a quaint but ample enough studio apartment in the heart of Silverlake for under $900. The renter, who lived in New York, wanted to keep his rent controlled apartment so he was happy to sublet it without making a profit, even though his lease forbade it. I settled in nicely and enjoyed four months living alone for the first time ever. And then the call came.

It was Marion on the phone. He needed help. He was in a desperate situation. He needed a temporary place to stay. He would be so grateful for any help. I told him I would call him back. After all, I was with my godfather and I hated the undue pressure. But even my godfather was fooled by his theatrics over the speakerphone. He legitimately felt bad for the guy. I thought about my friends who had given me a crashing pad when I needed one. Perhaps this was my chance to pay it forward. I picked up the phone and called Marion back. This is the part of the movie when you should be yelling at the screen, “don’t do it! You fool!” And, so, I did.

Marion arrived later that evening. I made it clear that this was to be a temporary arrangement. He crashed on the couch. I went to work full time. And he remained on the couch. More of his belongings arrived suddenly. Two weeks passed and I gave him some helpful tips to find temporary shelter. In his uniquely vague way, he danced around and evaded the subject. I tried not to stress about it. I have always believed in the best of people. We all need a helping hand sometimes.

A month passed and my birthday was fast approaching. I threw a party to raise funds for Monday Night Mission, a local organization that feeds the homeless living on Skid Row.  I didn’t feel right making a guy homeless at the same time so I allowed Marion to stay on until then. I asked him to DJ at my party and he obliged. Of course, he was a DJ. He loved to tell tales of all the big money shows he had performed and how successful he was. And yet, here he remained. Still on my couch.

My birthday came and went. And the red flags flew at full mast. He would threaten his phone company. He would consume anything that could be consumed. My belongings had become his belongings. My space had become his space. His parasitic tentacles were now firmly lodged into the apartment, leeching off of my naive compassion. I had enabled a freeloader and I had to cut the cord.

My first step was to voice my position and establish clear boundaries. I told him that I wanted my privacy back. I told him he could spend the night there while he looked for a new place to stay during the day. My apartment could no longer be a crashing pad. No sooner had I made this request than I fell ill with a cold and needed bed rest. I locked the main door, the one for which I never gave Marion a key.  He was out of the house and I was grateful. Until he returned and proceeded to attempt to enter the structure by any means necessary. I was half asleep but could see an arm struggling through a hole in the screen window. I heard him make a phone call. He said something about a thirty day rule and left the property. This could not go on.

That evening, before he returned again, I texted him my final position: I would put him up in a hostel for a couple of nights and give him some cash to facilitate his transition. I said this would be the healthiest thing for both of us.  Moments later, he appeared at the door again. I invited him in to discuss my proposal. That’s when he revealed his true sociopathic colors. He said he would not leave and had now gained status as a legal tenant under California law for residing at my dwelling for over thirty days.  This was his sixtieth day, to be precise, and he had no plans to ever leave. Nor could I make him.

DD beware

I stopped trying to reason with the unreasonable. Anything I had to say was met with shameless gaslighting from the trespasser. If you are fuzzy on that term, gaslighting refers to using persistent denial, misdirection, contradiction, and lying in attempts to destabilize the target and delegitimize the target’s belief. This is business as usual for a sociopath.

As Marion started tampering with the door lock, I took my energy elsewhere: the police, the DA, my councilman’s office, the city attorney’s office and even the press. None were inclined to help me.  The police would not evict him.  The only DIY advice that made any sense was to lock this bloodsucker out and leave the burden of proof on him. And so I did.

I finally had my chance a few evenings later when the perpetrator was out of the house. I locked the main door. I left two copies of a formal letter at the entrance: one for him and another for the LAPD.  I CC’d several city agencies and sent it via email to all parties. He was no longer welcome in my residence, it said. He was to leave immediately and tell me where to send his belongings. This was me formally cutting the cord. This should have been the end of it.

Alas, Marion returned within minutes and began viciously breaking and entering. I filmed the whole thing. He was able to break open a side window attached to an unused door and began unlocking the door as I yelled at him to stop. I should note at this point that I purchased pepper spray a few days prior, at the height of my fear and uncertainty about living with an unstable sociopath. As he continued advancing, shoving a couch with the opening door and ignoring my cries, you know damn well I used that pepper spray for fear of my life.

This is the Kafkaesque part of the story. I called the police. And so did he. Guess who got charged with a crime that night? Indeed, the police gave me the choice to simply allow the con man back into my home and they would make no arrests. I politely but firmly refused. That’s what this was all about, after all. Possession.  So I was arrested. They said he was to be mentally evaluated. My neighbor locked my doors for me.

I was booked downtown with a felony charge—assault with a chemical agent. I was bailed out by family the next morning and driven back home. Maybe it was finally over. Maybe this nightmare could end here.  Whatever legal ramifications, at least I might finally have my home and my life back. As I soon discovered, I was wrong. Marion Maniel had returned to my apartment, broken back in and was back on the couch, like a hyena ready to pounce. Had the police even taken him in? “How is he still here while I am facing serious legal charges for acting in self defense?,” I wondered. My head was reeling.

My uncle advised me to pack a bag and get the hell out of there.  All of a sudden, I was the one facing homelessness and uncertainty while Marion enjoyed his third month of rent-free squatting.  I had to come clean with the renter.  I told him I was ending my sublease and why. He was surprisingly patient and understanding despite the legal burden of eviction he now faced because I allowed compassion to blind me. My family retrieved my belongings and served the con man restraining order hearing papers on my behalf.  This was his MO and he was winning.

As I tried to get my life back on track while awaiting my arraignment, I pondered a few questions. Why does California law protect a con man over a legitimate tenant in this scenario? What could I have done differently to get rid of the perp and keep my apartment? How come the city refused to help a citizen requesting help? How can he keep getting away with this?

Thanks to the generosity of family and a little bit of luck, I did receive the legal help I needed to get my felony charges diminished and dismissed. At the very least, my future as a criminal was disappearing from view. Meanwhile, the property management company was going to sue the renter unless he could remove the squatter. He had to calculate whether it would be cheaper to counter-sue or accept the credit hit he would get for having an eviction on his record. The waves of destruction created by one man’s greed rippled beyond my expectations.

Finally, the restraining order hearing date arrived and I faced Marion in court. He looked like the devil in a shiny black suit and red brimmed glasses. As it turns out, the suit wasn’t even his but belonged to the renter, one of the few items left behind in the closet. I told the judge my story. She was not convinced that it warranted a restraining order, especially since I had left the property. She allowed the defendant to respond. And he lied with all the confidence and comfort of the devil himself. He professed that he had done one hundred hours of consulting work for me prior to his arrival and that I owed him money and—before he could get much further, the judge cut him off and said she was denying the restraining order against him. I was left aghast but also curious about what other lies he had prepared to tell about me. This willful deceit made me feel ill all over again. A sociopath will play whatever role he needs to play to get what he wants.

I knew the end was near. He may have won temporarily. He may have found the right legal loophole to be a criminal with legal protection. But at least I didn’t have to see him anymore. His days as an un-incarcerated shyster were numbered. That’s when some new information landed on my lap. The court computers revealed he had quite a history: charges of reckless and drunk driving, larceny, a lawsuit against him by a storage facility and, finally, indisputable proof that he had played this scheme before.

I went to visit my chiropractor and he asked me why I was tense. So I told him the story in brief. His jaw dropped. He told me that another patient of his had fallen for the same trick by the same guy. We corroborated facts and I discovered that she was the woman whose apartment Marion had been squatting in when I first met him. He had rented the room but never paid, then claimed tenancy and lied that they had been a couple. She was forced to move out while he played the eviction game there just as he is playing now at my place. And he knows just enough to get away with it, no matter how many people get hurt along the way.

As of this writing, the City Attorney has dropped my charges. I have reached out to Mayor Garcetti and some friends in high places to caution against this individual.  This has taken a toll on me, sure. But I have a new place and I will survive. Marion Maniel, however, needs to be in prison to protect other good people from falling for his evil ways. If he was looking for someone to bring him down, he found him in me. The law cuts both ways and, soon enough, it will cut him down, too.  We all know the quote about the arc of history bending toward justice. I couldn’t agree more. But don’t forget a quote just as relevant to our world today and heed its warning:

“The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist.”
-Keiser Soze, sociopath
played by Kevin Spacey, sociopath
from The Usual Suspects, 1995
Directed by Bryan Singer, sociopath

Sonnet 116 (a short film)

About a decade ago, some college friends and I shot this short film that I wrote while studying cinema, Shakespeare and theater in Miami (and abroad). I was lucky enough to get some talented professional actors on board. Due to some delays in post-production, this little film has not seen the light of day until now. Better a decade late than never! Big love and thanks to everyone who made it possible! #Sonnet116 #NSFW

Sonnet 116

Sonnet 116 is a short film shot in Miami, Florida, about a troubled marriage on the edge of doom. Can a love sonnet and a bit of luck turn things around? How far would you go for your love?



Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle’s compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

-William Shakespeare


Leddy Set Go Productions
Sonnet 116
written, directed and produced by Matthew August Leddy
director of photography – Clark Splichal
edited by Alyson Bruno
sound design and music by Eric Fuhrmann

Jim – Chris Vicchiollo
Susan – Sandy Ives
Bruce – Brandon Morris
Zoe – Stacy Schwartz
Hobo – Robert Strain

Key Grip – Chris Dukes
Grip – Diana Matos
Grip – Koen Thiry

Production Assistant – Deborah Acosta
Production Assistant – Geraldine Alvarez

Featuring compositions by:
Antonio Carlos Jobim
Spam Allstars

Special Thanks:
University of Miami
City of Miami, Florida
New Theatre, Inc. (Coral Gables, Florida)
Michael Blake Heitzler
Blair Miller
Gregory Leddy
Blake Edward
Ronald Mangravite
Ed Talavera
Deirdre Daly
Alfred Pavlis
Acosta family
Splichal family
Michael Scott
Charlotte McCarthy
John Dunaj
Youssouf A Coulibaly
Lisa Fox
Carlos Graham
Suzanne Fulchignoni



Reels, reels, reels!

Our goal at Leddy Set Go Productions is to break down the barriers of the establishment film world to create fun, compelling work and make an impact with like-minded artists.  Here is a small sample of the work we have already created together, along with some shameless self-promotion by our head honcho.  Please reach out to us to help you with your next production, to hire any of our talented artists or just to say, “hey!”  If you’re here, you’re already part of our community.  Thanks a bunch! Mil gracias!



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