Bodies of Water

While working on an indie feature film, I met three women I now believe will be collaborators for life. Set in Hyannis Port, Massachusetts, the feature was particularly “bro-centric” and the female characters were severely underwritten. Needless to say, the women actors had a lot of spare time on their hands. On the first day of production, a local woman stopped us on the street. “A film! How exciting! Do you need another home to house people or shoot in? We leave Sunday, you could move in on Monday.” Elizabeth, a natural producer with an epic approachability she calls “babysitter face,” turned up the charm without hesitation and responded, “Absolutely! …how about four weeks?”

As fate would have it, this woman's house was located on the Kennedy Compound, just two doors down from Ethel Kennedy (often seen on the beach in her bikini at the ripe age of ninety-four!) And yes, we moved in on Monday. The home formerly belonged to Jean Kennedy, the youngest of the JFK siblings, and was completely untouched from the late sixties. A phone list in the kitchen listed Robert Kennedy’s phone number. A whimsical rug ran through all nine bedrooms, featuring lobsters and ships and fishing poodles. And so, with those women from the bro-y feature, we decided there was no other possible choice…

“We have to make something here.”

My co-writer and lead, Claire, had discovered bleeding in her brain only two weeks before coming to the Cape. First diagnosed as a tumor, the doctors ultimately ruled the cause undetermined. She suffered short term memory loss, suddenly becoming a woman who couldn’t trust her own thoughts. Still, that autumn she flew across the country to do the one thing she loved most, to make films. Her story was our story.

We set about constructing a script, riffing late into the night with poorly-mixed manhattans in the parlor. Devising from the distinct energy of the house, and our personal experiences, we dreamed of images, themes, poems, and anecdotes about sisterhood. “Are you wearing my perfume?” It was an exercise in creative freedom and pure expression. Process over product. Play.

I suffered a breakup with my best friend of fourteen-years as a casualty of twenty-twenty. I was starting over. I’ve long been fascinated by female relationships; the way they sustain us, and how fragile they can be. Making this film was how I came to accept the faultlessness of our failed relationship.

The Theory of Water Memory by Jacques Benveniste states that water has memory and is forever changed by anything it touches, but that those memories can be altered and diluted over time. We clung to this theme, and levity found its way to the surface. Our film is at times playful, bordering on absurd. We indulged in the absurdity of navigating the unimaginable.

As a director, I’m drawn to bold stylistic choices, purposeful tableaus, and delicate imagery. I’m drawn to nuanced and sometimes crooked characters, and believe that a great collaborator will steer you toward discovery. I lean in hard to discovery, wherever it can be found. The style of this piece was influenced by the tableaus of classic cinema, and is an examination of feminine strength in film. Working with an all female team allowed for a circular, inclusive creative process that gave way to something I believe is truly magical. This story is born from real life, from a slice of American history, and from the depth of our hearts. I hope this film makes you laugh, doubt, cringe, and cry. I hope you revel in the gaiety of our mischief and are compelled to call your mother after watching. I hope you treasure the memories that surface, as they slip through your fingers like water seeps.

Thank you for watching “Bodies of Water.”

With Gratitude,
Caitlin Davis