Barbara texted me one morning: "I need to show you something, can we jump on a Zoom?"

That's it. That's the whole opening. No pitch, no treatment, no sense of scale. Just a colleague asking for twenty minutes of my time.

On the call, she showed me a property she had access to for a couple of months - completely unhindered, no crew schedules to work around, no other productions competing for the space. Then she asked the question that actually started all of this: "Do we want to film something?"

I want to tell you why this film exists before I tell you what happens in it.

Resonance took shape in the quiet that followed my father's passing. The script came together during a period of professional stillness that happened to coincide with personal loss - and loss, I've found, has a way of making space for the kind of reflection that produces your most honest work, whether you're ready for it or not.