Ginger

I was 23 years old when I noticed a small lump in my breast and my doctor told me not to worry. I was 23 years old when I got the call that the “cyst” I had biopsied just one week prior was actually an aggressive form of breast cancer. After a grueling year of chemotherapy and radiation, I had lost a sense of identity after shaving my shoulder length red hair. I no longer trusted my body, but I anticipated that the worst of my cancer experience was behind me. I was 25 years old when my cancer came back and I decided to remove not just one but both breasts to ensure that this would be my last time dealing with this disease. I was 25 while I planned my double mastectomy and surgeons sat with me and said nothing about the possibility of the cancer spreading into other parts of my body and deeming me “treatable but incurable.” I was 28 years old when I was diagnosed with terminal breast cancer, and this is my story.

As a filmmaker, my life’s mission crystallized in the face of my life's greatest sorrow. My experience with the insidious cruelty of breast cancer, especially at such a young age, provided me with two concrete goals: I planned to not only live to see my 30th birthday, but I decided to make a movie that captured all of the pain, suffering, humor, and all the love that comes along with this disease.

Ginger is first and foremost for all people who have gone through and will go through the horrors of breast cancer diagnoses and treatment. If my story can help empower at least one person, then it will have been successful. My hope, however, is that Ginger will move any audience member with its message of hope. There is nothing more valuable than the ability to find gratitude in the beautiful things in life. And while illness might make life harder, it does not limit or invalidate the meaning of each and every waking day.

A film like Ginger has yet to be distributed. While there are many documentaries on the subject, there has not yet been a truly powerful drama that captures the essence of what it's like being in your early 20s and dealing with a huge medical crisis like cancer. Ginger is unique precisely because it deals with the debilitating anxiety that young people face during and after diagnosis. It begs the question: how do you learn to be ok with not knowing if you are going to be ok? That was an answer I sought for myself, as well as for the movie.

Cancer sucks, and my intention for Ginger is to give the world a film that can help make cancer suck just a little bit less. That’s why, between chemotherapy infusions and scans, I refused to miss a single day on set during the oppressive summer heat. The main benefit Ginger will provide to society is the message that no one is ever alone, and that there is a power and source of strength that can be discovered and relied upon in the face of unknown circumstances.

Stylistically, I wanted to maintain a naturalistic look and feel, while allowing the actors’ performances to shine. This included leaving room for improvisation during takes, and our actors’ quick wits and commitment to their characters provided some very emotionally raw performances.

I was insistent, however, that the film maintain a cinematic quality. My co-director and husband, Jimmy, and our director of photography, Jeff Harder, did a wonderful job balancing the need for realism and cinematic style. We utilized close ups for intensely emotional moments and well crafted wide shots to create space and tension between characters. Our production design was full of color and pattern to match Ginger’s personality, and our music matched her quirky demeanor but evolved over time as did her maturity. As the director and editor, I also knew I would want to hold on Ginger’s close ups and use selective focus to really emphasize the main character’s reactions and perspective. This film is about the patient’s experience and nobody else’s, and I wanted the onscreen action to show that.

Thank you very much for your consideration of Ginger.

Sincerely,
Melissa Boratyn
Writer, Director, and Editor - Ginger