An original, bold and darkly comic UK produced Sci-Fi feature film that blurs the lines between fantasy and reality.  It’s so fucking good it’s been officially selected for Sci-Fi-London 2017 and other prestigious festivals are so desperate to screen it they’ve offered drugs, sexual favours and even mineral rights.

Creative differences during post production began to mirror the onscreen story with genius auteur Roger Armstrong almost losing his mind trying to push forward the original idea for the film, challenged and frustrated at every point by the rest of the ‘production’ team’s inability to communicate effectively.  Driven by fear (caused by their tiny cocks) ‘co-director’ (and prick) John Hickman, DoP (and always late) Alastair Cummings and cowboy Stephen Robertson (aka The Dipshit Brothers) wanted to re-edit Sublimate into a dumbed down, unimaginative, ‘commercial’ buddy comedy destroying Armstrong’s unique, uncompromising vision.

Currently Armstrong and the rest of the production team are not on speaking terms and things got so bad in Autumn 2016 that a laughably pathetic plot to ostracise Armstrong and take control of the film resulted in him being unfriended on Facebook, uninvited from Robertson’s wedding (probably to Hickman) and the annual Christmas party and having a psychological breakdown.  At breaking point Armstrong dug deep and prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice  withdraw his support from the project and kill the film.  His courageous action and belief in his vision were not entirely successful and only forced a tenuous and unsatisfactory compromise – two different versions of Sublimate, The Dipshit Brothers bumbling, sanitised, childish, shit show (which will probably never get finished) and the definitive version represented on this website – Armstrong’s beautiful, raw, unflinching, nihilistic satire on twenty first century life.

Synopsis

Roger a drug-addled nineties techno producer, and his best friend, alcoholic wannabe rapper John, attempt to bring about humanity’s next stage of evolution. Their insane plan is to build a machine that bombards people with sound waves making the soul leave the human body and become pure consciousness. It’s a tale of idiocy, delusion and obsession. With no real scientific basis for their machine and Roger’s growing misanthropic messiah complex, the one way trip to a “new age cosmological rave in the sky” soon becomes a dark, bloody journey driven by desperation for success and recognition.