Till Death

I'm drawn to stories that unravel what lies beneath the surface, stories that search for emotional and psychological truth. TILL DEATH is no exception. It asks how long we can uphold the image of ourselves as "good people" when no one is watching.

The film begins with a simple, almost absurd, premise: a young expectant couple buys their dream house with the caveat that the elderly owner continues to live in it with the family until she passes away. The wife jumps at the opportunity, but what initially seems like winning the lottery might be a bargain with the devil. But who is the real devil in the story? Is it the lonely ailing older woman, or the young woman crafting her social media clout? 

The film suggests there are no easy answers: good intentions fray under pressure and the home can become a quiet battlefield. Through the lens of two women who find themselves on opposing ends, we open a window onto the fragility of our social selves in the face of our private impulses, a view on our desperate need to be seen, to be touched, to matter. My goal wasn't to create a simple, black-and-white narrative but to explore each character's perspective with nuance, empathy, and a bit of dark humor. The ambient discomfort in the film, taboos, and moral ambiguity create the kind of intimacy that turns the viewer into an empathetic witness. I want the viewer to squirm, laugh inappropriately, and see something of themselves.
     
From the start, I knew I wanted to trap the two main characters in a fraught, co-dependent relationship. Throughout the film, they feed off each other's energy, each transforming, intentionally or not. At first, the older woman is frail and fading, while the younger one arrives full of hope, eager to bring light and companionship to what she believes are the older woman's final days. But by the end, their roles are reversed—the older lady moves with renewed vitality, while the young mother starts falling apart. 

It was also important to me to structure the film in four parts, marked by the four seasons. Each season serves as an external expression of the young woman's interiority, beginning with the bright optimism of spring and descending into the dark of winter. The seasons are echoed not only in the performances but also in the wardrobe, camera movements, color palette, and score.

One of the most gratifying aspects of making this film was the overwhelming support from everyone involved. We were able to shoot it for a fraction of its actual cost, thanks to the generosity of a community of smart and driven individuals. It was a powerful reminder of how much can be achieved when surrounded by the right people—those who believe in the work and each other. This experience opened my eyes to the possibilities that come from collaborating with people who are passionate about storytelling and committed to carving out their own space in the industry while lifting others along the way. A kind of experience the two women in the film could have used a little of.