Script File
All The Things I Wish I Could Say
Tasked with returning his father’s ashes to estranged family in Spain, a burdened son must reconcile their denial of his father’s sexual identity and unite them in a journey to find closure in their grief.
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Andrew GarciaWriterTomb of the Sea, The Skin of Yesterday
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Saskia d'AltenaWriterTerra, Tomb of the Sea, The Skin of Yesterday
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Project Type:Screenplay
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Genres:Family, Drama
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Number of Pages:110
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Language:English
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First-time Screenwriter:No
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Student Project:No
Andrew Garcia (he/him) is a director from Miami, Florida, primarily focused on telling Latin coming-of-age stories and family dramas with a docu-style approach.
In 2019, his film La Piel De Ayer (2019) was acquired by HBO and received Best Director and Best Actor at the Miami Film Festival. His latest film, Tumba Del Mar (2023), screened at the Miami Film Festival, the Florida Film Festival, Hollyshorts, and won Best Narrative Short at the RiverRun International Film Festival.
He is currently developing his first feature “All The Things I Wish I Could Say”, which was selected for the WEG Feature Film Lab in 2024.
Saskia d'Altena (she/her) is a New York based filmmaker, originally from the UK. She spent two years at NYU's Tisch School of the Arts before leaving the program to become a founding partner of artist collective Holyrad Studio, where she developed their production house and mentorship programs. In 2021 she closed the studio to pursue freelance filmmaking full-time, and her credited work has since screened at the Miami FF, the Florida FF, the New York Latino FF, RiverRun and Hollyshorts. She is currently an EP at production company Easy Mondays, representing a roster of directors from Argentina, Mexico, Spain, the US and the UK.
I’ve been thinking a lot about family—how the love we share can be both a comfort and a weight we carry through life. This film was born from that love, but also from the unspoken things that linger between us, the things we never quite found the courage to say. Writing this story has been deeply personal, and at times, overwhelming. It’s been like sitting down with ghosts I wasn’t ready to face yet. Some conversations I imagined only for the page have started creeping into real life, blurring the lines between fiction and memory.
Recently, I found myself talking to my sisters about this film, sharing my fears and frustrations. I admitted how nervous I was about confronting these family dynamics on screen, afraid that someone might feel exposed or take it personally. But instead of judgment, I found support. They reminded me that this isn’t about pointing fingers — it’s about finding an outlet for all the things we carry, releasing them, and maybe even creating space for healing.
I keep coming back to Galicia, where my family’s story began. The hills, the crumbling houses, the weight of history hanging in the air.
Every time I visit, I feel that unspoken connection to the generations who came before us—the ones who migrated to Cuba and passed down their hopes, dreams, and scars. These places are like time capsules, waiting for someone to unlock their stories.
That’s what I want this film to be: a quiet unlocking. A chance to let grief, joy, and longing live side by side, just as they do in life. Simón’s journey mirrors my own in many ways—a search for belonging, understanding, and closure.
I know that facing these personal stories head-on is challenging, but I’m learning that vulnerability has its own kind of strength. My hope is that this film becomes a reflection not just of my family but of anyone who’s ever wanted to bridge those gaps, to say the things we wish we could say, and to listen when someone else finally finds the words.