Hi Kelsey, thanks for taking the time to speak with us. You’ve described yourself as “a reader and writer at your core.” When did storytelling stop being something you consumed and start being something you had to make—and what was the first moment you felt the industry “open up” to you?
I was a typical angsty pre-teen and first felt compelled to write my own poetry and stories at an early age. It was definitely an outlet for big emotions when I was growing up. A big eye-opening moment came embarrassingly late: I was in college when I really discovered what screenwriting was. Until then, movies were just magic. When I realized I could be part of making that magic, I knew I had to pursue it.
Your influences span serious literature (Kundera, Dostoyevsky) and sharp British comedy (Flying Circus, Fawlty Towers). How do those two instincts—philosophical depth and dry wit—coexist in your directing voice, especially when you’re working with heavy emotional material?
E.E. Cummings said, “The most wasted of all days is one without laughter.” I think the members of the Flying Circus would have agreed wholeheartedly. I also grew up needing more laughter than I think I necessarily got. I was quite an emotional young woman – still am – and didn’t necessarily have the tools to deal with life’s upsets and traumas. But I have found that the best way to deal with the hurt is to find the happy. It sounds trite, but it always works. This meant that my vibe on set was intentionally happy and bright, even when problems arose. If you’re not having fun on a film set, then something’s wrong!
“Repercussion(s)” is explicitly about choice, consequence, and the multiverse of outcomes. What was the original spark: a personal “what if,” a moral dilemma, or a character you couldn’t let go of?
Frankly, it was an image I couldn’t let go of, and one I think we’re all familiar with. I saw a man at a window, and when he moved his shoulder, I saw that he was aiming a gun out of the window. We’ve seen it before in many a tale of revenge. But I was more interested in the steps he had to take to arrive at his decision to pursue revenge – and what happened after he’d done it.
In your director statement you ask: “How certain can we be of the information that leads us to our choices?” In the film’s world, what counts as “truth”—and did you want the audience to feel confident, or constantly second-guess what they think they know?
Absolutely the latter! I think it’s important to recognize that when we’re watching a show or a movie, we’re seeing exactly what we’re meant to see, as determined by the storytellers. It’s all very intentional. What I wanted to play with was that “sliding doors” concept. One little choice can change everything. And here, so can the tiniest detail or piece of information.
The premise is devastating: a father, a missing daughter, and an unsolved disappearance. When you were writing/directing, what did you see as the father’s real engine—love, guilt, rage, fear, or something more complicated?
All of the above! I became a mother midway through the process of drafting this script and then filming it. And it is astounding the number of emotions that can fill you up when those emotions are about a tiny, helpless human – especially when you’ve carried them inside of you. It’s very common, in fact, tropey, to hear parents say “I’d do anything for my child.” I attempted to explore that in this film.
You pose the question: “Is going to the extreme ever acceptable?” Did you approach the father as someone the audience should empathize with, fear, judge, or recognize in themselves—and how did that intention shape performance direction on set?
I hope that he is a character people can relate to. I think it’s going to be easier for parents to relate to him directly, but I think we’ve all felt love for another person and have experienced that urge to protect at all costs.
The title “Repercussion(s)” suggests both a single consequence and many branching ones. How did you design the film’s multiple scenarios so they feel like distinct realities, but still emotionally tethered to the same core wound?
The featured song, “You and Me” by Al Nichol, was heavily influential in the structure of the film. It anchors our main character in the past as well as acts as a motivator for returning to that past and starting again (i.e., the time loops). My DP and I also made sure to provide diversity in the shots, since we had a confined space to work with – Jessie’s Daddy sits in a chair the whole time! So finding movement and camera motivation was important. I also very intentionally wrapped each loop in a theme: desperation, vengeance, nostalgia, and finally empathy. The details we directed the audience’s attention to were different according to each of those themes.
With a 14:35 runtime, every beat has to earn its place. What was the hardest choice you made in production—something you cut, simplified, or implied—because the short format demanded precision?
My aim was to achieve a very slow, almost stifling atmosphere. The hardest thing was keeping the final film under 15 minutes! I wanted so badly to linger even longer in some of those takes. But in the end, being made to watch how long I lingered helped keep the pace and ultimately made the film that much more successful.
With a $12,000 budget, what did you decide was non-negotiable (cast, locations, camera approach, sound, VFX, rehearsal time), and what did you intentionally keep minimal so the film stayed focused on consequence rather than spectacle?
We had to cheat quite a few things to make it feel as if Jessie’s Daddy and the Delinquent character were in fact across the street from each other. In a perfect world, I would have been able to have those set-ups truly across from each other, but instead we found two separate locations and made them each work for us.
After the world premiere at Indie Short Film Festival and then winning Best Drama at Atlanta Shortsfest, what shifted for you: your confidence in the film’s message, your understanding of how audiences read the scenarios, or even your own relationship to the choices you were interrogating?
Every time I’ve seen this film with a new audience, I learn something new! Where audiences gasp or exclaim can change, what makes them sigh or even get fed up. It’s all so fascinating! One of the best things about this experience is talking to audience members after the fact. There are so many interpretations of this story. And that’s exactly what I was aiming for! As for myself, watching it over and over again (apropos!) has helped me digest my own story and recognize what I was saying when I made it. It’s been truly therapeutic in many ways.
Where can our readers find out more about you?
I am on Instagram @manuscriptable and @repercussionsfilm2025, and I’m soon to launch my Manuscriptable Productions company website www.manuscriptable.com
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