The Art of the Absurd: Inside the Practical VFX of Boots Riley’s I Love Boosters

By Desiree Bowie
June 02, 2026

In the landscape of modern cinema, where the digital sheen of CGI often threatens to sanitize the tactile nature of filmmaking, Boots Riley’s I Love Boosters stands as a defiant, glorious anomaly. The surreal sci-fi heist comedy—following a band of impeccably dressed shoplifters teaming up with a factory worker to dismantle a ruthless fashion mogul—is a visual fever dream. It is a world populated by teleporters, giant "debt tumbleweeds," and futuristic vehicles that defy the physics of the mundane.

To manifest this offbeat vision, Riley turned to Christopher Lee Warren, the founder and Director of Photography at Blind Beagle VFX. Their collaboration represents a rare convergence of high-concept narrative ambition and the gritty, uncalculable magic of practical effects.

The Philosophy of Imperfection: A Creative Collision

When director Boots Riley sought a visual partner for the film’s complex third-act chase sequences, he was introduced to Warren through filmmaker Roman Coppola, a mutual collaborator who had previously worked with Warren on the sprawling production of Megalopolis. For Warren, a veteran of the industry whose credits include legendary practical-effects spectacles like The Abyss and Terminator 2: Judgment Day, the transition to I Love Boosters required a significant mental recalibration.

Throughout his storied career, Warren had been trained in the gospel of realism: the art of making miniatures indistinguishable from their full-scale counterparts. Riley, however, had a different mandate. "Boots comes along and says, ‘Don’t make it look too real,’" Warren recalls. "I’m thinking to myself, ‘What do you mean, don’t make it look too real? I was trained my whole life to make things look real.’"

Riley’s directive stemmed from a profound distaste for the "smoothed-out" aesthetic of contemporary digital effects. "There are things we don’t know about the ways light works," Riley explains. "Even the best CGI is often some smoothed-out version of reality, as opposed to rough around the edges, which is how things feel in real life. Practical effects feel rough around the edges in beautiful, uncalculable ways."

This philosophy extended to the very physics of the film’s world. Riley wanted the "awesome" factor that CGI often lacks—a sense of weight and tactile risk. As Riley puts it, "You could make a CGI skyscraper stand up, walk over and take a shit, and it wouldn’t be awesome. It would just be. But that should be awesome."

Chronology of a Miniature Masterpiece

The production process for I Love Boosters was defined by a rapid-fire, resourceful approach to problem-solving. Early in the production cycle, the team faced a massive hurdle: the film’s climactic chase sequence through the streets of San Francisco. It was projected to be a budget-draining, logistical nightmare.

Warren, who had recently launched Blind Beagle VFX—a boutique shop featuring his brother and son—stepped into a production meeting and changed the trajectory of the film. "I’m sitting in the background listening to them," Warren recounts. "Then I say, ‘I just shot a movie. I have all these buildings.’ I took my phone and showed them the street I had." The immediate relief in the room was palpable; the sequence had found its architect.

From there, the construction of the film’s world became a family-led, cross-disciplinary effort. Working alongside Miniature Production Designer Ian Hunter (a two-time Oscar winner for First Man and Interstellar), the team began building a world that blurred the lines between high-end model making and guerilla filmmaking.

The mall chase, one of the film’s centerpieces, serves as a masterclass in this approach. To create the interior of the mall, Warren didn’t just rely on blueprints. He went to the Glendale Galleria and other local L.A.-area malls, photographing storefronts to create "translights." By printing these images onto 2D surfaces and placing lights behind them, Warren created a convincing illusion of depth that feels nostalgic yet surreal. "Because everything’s in 2D, that’s the beauty of the artistry of miniatures," Warren says. "I’m not trying to tell you to look at that. I want you to look at the overall picture."

Technical Hurdles: Breaking the Laws of Physics

Working at 1/12th scale introduced a unique set of constraints, particularly regarding speed and motion. Warren found that traditional high-speed photography—the standard for making miniatures look massive—wasn’t always the right tool for Riley’s vision. "Boots wanted some speed and action," Warren explains. "I couldn’t shoot it at as slow a frame rate as I would have liked to because 1/12th scale starts to look too slow."

The result was a constant negotiation between technical perfection and the director’s desire for an "unreal" aesthetic. During one particularly intense sequence, Riley challenged Warren to break the laws of physics entirely. When asked if a truck could leave the ground in a way that defied gravity, Warren abandoned his usual, highly engineered motion-control rigs in favor of a simpler, more explosive practical solution.

Warren’s commitment to "in-camera" effects extended to the film’s sci-fi elements as well. For the "accelerator" energy blasts, the team eschewed digital post-production. "All the accelerator stuff was all real water," Warren notes. "The elements were shot for real. I built my own little rig, and then we shot water." By staging these interactions with miniature figures and physical splashes, the team achieved an organic, chaotic energy that would have been impossible to replicate in a render farm.

Supporting Data: The "Old School" Toolkit

Warren’s methodology on I Love Boosters was aggressively analog. To manage the lighting and movement of the vehicles, he utilized a Nikon Z9 synchronized to a vintage Cooper System.

"I shot a second pass for the headlights. I shot a third pass for the police lights so they can project onto the walls," Warren details. "Then I shot each pass three times so you’d have some room in post to play around with the exposures." By blurring the images during the exposure rather than relying on digital motion blur, Warren ensured that the footage maintained a consistent, filmic quality, regardless of the frame rate used.

The team’s reliance on practical "body shops"—in reality, just a workbench in their studio—was tested when a shot involving a van crashing through a window went awry. "The van hit the window, and the window just falls out," Warren says. "It took two days in the body shop." It is this blend of high-level artistry and humble, hands-on repair that defines the spirit of Blind Beagle VFX.

Implications for the Future of VFX

The success of I Love Boosters signals a potential shift in how directors approach the "look" of surrealism in film. By embracing the imperfections of miniatures, Riley and Warren have created a visual language that feels more grounded, despite the fantastical nature of the story.

The "Four Warrens"—Christopher, Gene, Brandon, and Jon—have proven that a small, family-operated business can outmaneuver massive, corporate-backed VFX houses when it comes to soul and artistic intent. For Warren, the joy of the project was not just in the final product, but in the collaborative, unpretentious process.

"Collaborating with someone like Boots is a breath of fresh air," Warren says. "He wants to push the envelope, and sometimes he’s not even quite sure what that envelope is. I want to do another movie with Boots right away."

As audiences continue to grow weary of the "uncanny valley" created by over-processed CGI, the work of Blind Beagle VFX serves as a compelling reminder: sometimes, the most effective way to build a future is to go back to the workbench, pick up a physical prop, and let the light fall exactly where it wants to. I Love Boosters is not just a film; it is a manifesto for the power of the "rough around the edges" in an increasingly digital world.