Idlewild

When Jack McLain (director) and I first started dreaming up a short, we knew we wanted to challenge ourselves. We wanted to make something bigger than anything we’d done before, and selfishly, we wanted a film that fused my childhood love of dinosaurs with Jack’s deep affection for 1960s cinema. Thematically, we wanted to tell a story about working-class strength, quiet resilience, and the bravery it takes to do what’s right. From those pieces, Idlewild was born.

We shot entirely on location at a real construction site, with a 60+ person crew and no soundstage to fall back on. Every single scene was outdoors. It was logistically wild, but those constraints made us sharper, more creative, and more capable. Idlewild taught me how to lead with calm, think on my feet, and care for a crew, not just as a producer, but as a collaborator.

When I think back on Idlewild, I remember a conversation with one of my mentors about shooting for six days entirely outside. They were sure we’d get rained out at least once. But in my gut, I knew we’d be fine. And we were more than fine, ironically, out of all the films that went into production that semester, our weekends were the only ones without a drop of rain.

After we wrapped, that same mentor said, “You were lucky.” And maybe I was. Lucky for the weather, sure. But I’m also lucky to have film — as a profession, as a passion, as a way to share stories that connect. I’m lucky that I was able to lend my voice to this story to encourage female empowerment. I’m lucky to have a team that got the vision, a support system that believed in the work, and a film like Idlewild in the world.