Drama
Last Stop
Every film project carries within it a unique narrative, not just on screen, but in the arduous journey of its creation. “Last Stop,” emerged from the 48-hour film challenge bearing the indelible mark of Liz Wright’s vision and dedication.
In a recent conversation Liz Wright unraveled the intricate threads of her creative journey, offering a glimpse into the making of “Last Stop” and the myriad facets that punctuated its path to fruition.
“Last Stop” is a road trip movie based on two bickering sisters and one of their daughters that are on the way to see their dad in hospice care” said Wright. “And it’s kind of a sad, but it’s like think of like Little Miss Sunshine versus like Thelma and Louise kind of vibe. That’s kind of I would say the genre is really just like a family oriented movie on, you know, forgiveness, redemption. And ultimately it also focus a little bit around mental health.”
At its core, “Last Stop” epitomizes the boundless potential of collaborative endeavors, as Liz Wright ingeniously assembled her cast and crew from diverse corners of the filmmaking community. Harnessing the power of social media platforms like Facebook, Wright collected a team of talent, each individual contributing their unique skills to breathe life into this cinematic vision.
“I really didn’t tell anybody No. Anybody that said, “Yes, I’m interested”. I said, “Cool. What are you interested in doing? What are your talents? What are your strengths? What kind of equipment do you have?” And so I got a few different team members that had different camera options. We had awesome equipment. But you can’t really plan or cast a movie that you haven’t written yet. And so it was just finding people that were passionate and people that were committed. And whoever showed up got to be part of it.”
Amidst the camaraderie and creative fervor, challenges still were present in the filmmaking process. From navigating conflicting creative voices to weathering literal storms like a sudden hailstorm during filming, Wright confronted each obstacle with unwavering determination and resourcefulness.
“I had too many cooks in the kitchen, if that makes sense. I had people that had been directors and had been writers and so and I wanted to have that on my team split. I had that additional experience that I didn’t have because this is my first film.”
Beyond the trials it was the camaraderie and sheer joy of creation that defined the essence of the filmmaking process for Wright and her team. Amidst the regular chaos of film production, laughter rang out, forging bonds that transcended beyond this 48 hour experience.
“There was a scene that between me and the other girl who played my sister where I really wanted to capture her emotion because the line that we had to use as part of the 48 hour challenge was “we’re not friends and we never will be”. I really wanted to capture that emotion. So we had our DP, literally sitting on her lap with the camera in front of her face. We really were able to captured that emotion on her face up close. We were laughing the whole time in this super emotional scene, but that was probably one of my favorite memories.”
The culmination of this journey was the exhilarating premiere of “Last Stop,” an experience akin to witnessing the birth of a child. As the film flickered to life on the silver screen, Wright and her team basked in the glow of their collective achievement.
“Just being able to sit there and see it on the big screen was like the equivalent to me of giving birth to a baby, probably because I don’t have any kids of my own. The only thing I’ve done artistically where I’ve been able to see my work out in the world or my creation out in the world was when I published my first book. And it was that same type of feeling of ripping open the box and unveiling it and tears come to your eyes when you’re just like, “Wow, we did it.”
For Wright, the journey does not end with a single premiere. Buoyed by the success of “Last Stop,” she sets her sights on new horizons, embarking on the ambitious endeavor of expanding her short film into a feature-length production. Undeterred by the daunting challenges that lie ahead, Wright’s indomitable spirit and unwavering passion propel her forward, eager to embrace the next chapter of her cinematic odyssey.
Aspiring filmmakers, take heed: Liz Wright’s journey offers a poignant reminder that the path to cinematic greatness is paved not just with talent, but with grit, perseverance, and an unyielding belief in the power of storytelling. So pick up that camera, join a set, or embark on your own creative odyssey. For in the boundless expanse of filmmaking, the possibilities are as endless as the depths of your imagination.
Drama
A Call That Changes Everything in Don’t Hang Up
WARNING! This review contains SPOILERS!
Don’t Hang Up tells a powerful story through one unexpected phone call. Elizabeth Holiday, played by Paula Jai Parker, starts her morning in rural Hayti, Missouri, when Jeremy, a former student portrayed by LT Hines II, reaches out after years of silence. The call disrupts her routine and pulls both of them into a conversation they’ve been avoiding for a long time.
The film moves with intention. Diamond Batiste focuses on honesty and emotional clarity, allowing the story to unfold through the rawness of their dialogue. The pacing feels natural, giving each shift in tone space to land without distraction.
The cinematography keeps the attention on Elizabeth’s experience through warm tones and close framing. The sound design supports the tension between both characters, letting the quiet moments deepen the impact of each line. Every element works together to keep the focus on the connection forming between Elizabeth and Jeremy.
Parker brings a grounded presence to Elizabeth, and Hines brings weight to Jeremy’s emotional state. Their performances carry the story, giving the conversation a sense of history without relying on exposition. The writing allows them to speak with honesty, and the emotions surface naturally.
Batiste brings a strong point of view to the film. His commitment to stories about connection and resilience is shaped by a career that is dedicated to elevating underrepresented voices. His background adds depth to the themes he explores, especially when addressing the pressures that shape communities like the one portrayed in the film.
Don’t Hang Up is a story about reaching out when it matters and finding the courage to confront the past. The film handles mental health with care and delivers an experience that stays with you. I enjoyed it very much.
Drama
The Quiet Rebellion of Sister Wives
WARNING! This review contains SPOILERS!
Louisa Connolly-Burnham’s Sister Wives is a haunting & heartfelt exploration of love, repression, and quiet rebellion in unexpected places. Set in a strict, polygamous community in 2003 Utah, the film follows Kaidence and Galilee—two young women as they discover something forbidden but deeply human: love for one another. Beneath its rural stillness, this film hums with tension and tenderness.
Sister Wives feels deliberate and immersive right from the start. The muted color palette mirrors the rigid life of the community—dull, restrained, and heavy with strict rules—while the women’s prairie dresses introduce just enough color to suggest individuality trying to break through. The cinematography captures both the beauty and isolation doing an outstanding job at enhancing the emotional connection. When the camera holds on moments between Kaidence and Galilee, these moments are where you can feel the emotion connection the strongest.
Connolly-Burnham, who also stars in the film alongside BAFTA-winner Mia McKenna-Bruce, directs with remarkable empathy. Her approach is not exploitative or sensational. She creates a world that feels lived-in, fragile, and real. The editing and sound design work in harmony, never too much to draw attention to it unless you are looking for it. Even the lighting feels symbolic—soft in moments of connection, harsh and cold whenever the outside world closes in.
Sister Wives is about two women reclaiming the right to have feelings. The performances are powerful while still being subtle as they are charged with emotion.
Connolly-Burnham’s direction shows a deep understanding of contrast—between faith, freedom, duty, desire, silence and voice. Her use of music, inspired by films like Drive and Lost in Translation, adds a pulse that modernizes the story. This kind of repression still exists, and her storytelling makes sure we feel that.
The production design captures the rustic isolation of its world and is spot on to transport audiences into this world. It’s easy to see why Sister Wives has been gaining recognition at Oscar, BAFTA, and BIFA qualifying festivals. Every aspect of its production, costuming, lighting, (well the whole thing just works) in service of the story’s truth.
What stays with me isn’t the setting or even the tragedy of the women—it’s the courage. The courage to question, to feel, and to dream of freedom in a world designed to suppress it. Sister Wives is quiet, brave, and unforgettable.
Drama
Can You Trust What You See Anymore?
WARNING! This review contains SPOILERS!
Iñaki Velásquez’s Danka Priscilla Danka is a sleek and unsettling political drama that digs into the growing unease surrounding artificial intelligence and power. Set against the high-stakes backdrop of a Chilean presidential race, the film centers on Priscilla, a campaign manager whose loyalty is tested when she discovers that the very technology fueling her candidate’s success may be built on deception. What begins as a story about deepfakes and politics slowly turns into something more intimate—a study of control, manipulation, and trust between two women whose relationship blurs the line between personal and professional loyalty.
From the opening frame, Velásquez makes his control of tone clear. The lighting is sharp and purposeful—each scene feels designed for the emotional temperature of the moment. Hotel rooms glow with uneasy warmth, police offices buzz under cold fluorescent light, and Danka’s balcony conversations carry the quiet weight of a woman performing both for the public and for herself. The cinematography captures Chile’s landscape in striking contrasts: the natural mountains towering over the geometric sprawl of the city. It’s an image that mirrors the story’s central question—what happens when something human becomes overshadowed by something manufactured?
The performances are gripping. Tamara Acosta brings depth and precision to Priscilla, grounding the film’s moral tension in every look and pause. Katty Kowaleczko, as Danka, balances charisma and menace with a politician’s grace—her smile hiding a thousand motives. Their chemistry makes each exchange electric, turning even the smallest gesture into a battle for power.
Technically, the film is top-tier. The camera work is confident, the framing consistently intentional, and the editing tight enough to maintain suspense without ever feeling rushed. The sound design amplifies every shift in mood—especially the use of ambient noise during confrontations, which keeps the audience alert to what might happen next. While the background score occasionally enters a moment too early, it hardly detracts from the film’s overall polish.
Velásquez, already an Academy-qualified filmmaker for his short Victoria Rosana Maite, proves again that he knows how to build worlds that feel both cinematic and urgent. His direction balances spectacle with substance, never letting the technological themes overpower the human story at its core. In his director’s statement, he calls the film “about the nature of power and abuse in a relationship between two women,” and that focus is exactly what gives Danka Priscilla Danka its bite. It’s not just about AI—it’s about how control manifests, both digitally and emotionally.
By the end, I found myself thinking less about algorithms and more about people—the ones who hide behind them, and the ones who suffer because of them. Velásquez’s film feels timely yet timeless, a warning and a mirror all at once. Danka Priscilla Danka doesn’t just explore deception in politics—it exposes how easy it is to believe the lies we want to be true.
