Broken (The Short)

We are living in an era where mental health is finally being acknowledged, yet within communities of color, particularly the African American community, deep stigmas remain. BROKEN was made to expose the raw, unspoken pain that lingers in families suffering from unresolved trauma. Now, more than ever, we must confront the quiet epidemic of grief, addiction, and emotional isolation that plagues too many lives.

This film speaks to a universal truth: grief has no language, no race, no simple cure. It is a wound that society often demands we numb rather than heal. BROKEN challenges that narrative, forcing us to sit with pain rather than medicate it away. At a time when mental health is finally part of mainstream discourse, BROKEN reminds us of the voices still unheard, the parents, especially mothers, left to suffer in silence.

The mental health crisis in Black communities is a silent war, waged in the absence of adequate support. Therapy is often dismissed as unnecessary, while self-medication through alcohol and/or drugs becomes the accepted escape. BROKEN is not just a film; it’s a mirror held up to the devastating consequences of unprocessed trauma. By telling this story, I challenge societal norms that dismiss Black pain and demand an honest conversation about what healing truly looks like.

There is no word for a mother who loses a child, because the loss is too great to name. BROKEN captures the emotional and psychological turmoil that follows such devastation, particularly in a community where seeking help is often equated with weakness. Cynthia’s journey embodies the reality of so many: the denial, the spiraling, the desperate need for solace in substances, and ultimately, the battle for some semblance redemption. This experimental film is a call to recognize, validate, and address the mental health struggles too often ignored in Black families.

Adapted from my award-winning play, BROKEN is a deeply personal work, born from the depths of my own family’s tragedy. This maverick short film merges visual storytelling and original music to create a hauntingly visceral and poetic experience. Every frame is crafted with purpose. Cynthia listens to walls because the foundation of her mind has deteriorated; leaving her grasping for meaning. Her perspective is often blurred; a visual manifestation of her intoxication and of her fractured reality.

The song “I’m Still Here,” written, performed, and co-composed by me, weaves seamlessly into the film’s stormy soundscape of thunder and rain, serving as a haunting expression of Brandon’s enduring love for his mother, a constant reflection of Cynthia’s fragile grip on reality, and an emotional and subconscious testament to her own inner strength. Her hallucinations are not just illusions; they are the body’s desperate attempt at survival.

By fusing narrative, sound, and emotion, BROKEN transcends traditional storytelling, offering a multi-layered, immersive exploration of grief, survival, and resilience.

Grief is universal. Love is universal. And so is the human desire to create meaning and heal. BROKEN resonates because it tells a story that is rarely given space. One of pain that isn’t sensationalized, but deeply, deeply, deeply, felt. It connects with anyone who has ever lost, struggled, or reached for something to dull the ache. This film does not offer easy answers, because healing is never linear. But it does offer truth. And in truth, we find the power to move forward.

BROKEN is a tribute to my aunt, who lost her son, and to my cousin, whom I love so very deeply. It is also a tribute to every grieving mother, every struggling soul, and everyone who has ever fought like hell to be whole again.