Episode 7: The onlooker

In episode seven, we take you inside the making of The Onlooker — an original short film that dives deep into the complexities of grief and how it manifests in unexpected ways. From pre-production to final cut, this project pushed us creatively and emotionally, and we’re proud to finally share the story behind the story.⁠

Project Stills

For me, working on The Onlooker became a therapeutic process. The story naturally lent itself to exploring grief—what it feels like to carry it, to try to outrun it, and ultimately, to accept it. The biggest challenge was taking something that already had a scripted storyline and reimagining it into something different while still honoring its original intent. But honestly, it was such a fun process. I don’t think we strayed too far from what Jason originally envisioned, and in the end, we found a way to make it something meaningful.

I worked closely with Josh Tackett to figure out how to bring this story to life. I’m not sure if Jason initially intended for the black figure stalking Caroline to represent grief, but that’s the direction we decided to take. Around that time, I found a note in my phone from a day I was struggling with the loss of my dad. It read:

"Everybody dies. Death is the looming mystery that too often strikes unapologetically out of turn. It doesn’t matter if you are 5 or 95—it waits and comes. Slowly or in the blink of an eye. It forces entry with no remorse or conscience to itself. It impedes beauty. It halts joy. It magnifies regret. And as we live, it prowls with a hunger greater than the wild beasts that hunt at night. Never satisfied. Never full."

Reading that note again helped me find the heart of the piece. I looked at the footage Josh had put together and started to reimagine the video’s structure. I extended the voiceover based on my original note and brought it back to Josh, who pushed me to go even deeper. I remember going into my office after that conversation, putting on a track from The Handmaid’s Tale that he had sent me, and letting myself fully sit in the emotions of losing my dad. I thought about that week—feeling numb, trying to convince myself it wasn’t real, wanting so badly to push it all away. Then I remembered this dream I had, where my dad came to me. It felt so real. He told me that my hope of him still being alive and returning to my old normal was never going to happen. That dream forced me to face reality.

I wanted the voiceover to come from that place—from someone desperately trying to outrun grief but eventually realizing they have to face it. In the end, I think we did justice to the story, and more importantly, to Jason’s original vision.