Omeleto | STILLNESS | Omeleto @Omeleto | Uploaded May 2024 | Updated October 2024, 5 hours ago.
A photographer takes portraits of a family.
STILLNESS is used with permission from Rachel Fowler. Learn more at instagram.com/stillnessfilm.
Rose and Tom are a couple waiting anxiously in a hospital waiting room. They have been at this hospital before: Tom is nervous, while Rose seems withdrawn in her thoughts, cradling a black bag in her lap tenderly. But they aren't there to be seen by a doctor. Rose is there in another capacity, for another family.
Remembering what happened during her own trip to the hospital, Rose finally makes her way into a patient's room, and she reveals what's in her bag: a camera. She's there to take remembrance photos for a couple, Olivia and Isaac, who have just lost a baby in a stillbirth. The photo session is difficult, painful and moving all at once, as Rose gently bears witness to this family's grief, playing a small yet crucial role in what will likely prove a longer journey for both Rose and the family.
Directed and written by Rachel Fowler, this gentle yet moving short drama captures what it means to hold space for someone's raw grief after a devastating loss. The title of the film is both its subject and its style, as it respectfully takes on the subject of stillbirths with an almost minimalistic approach to storytelling that is sparse and elegantly composed. Shot with a clean, serene brightness that belies the sorrow of the film's characters and subject matter, the pacing and tenor of the film are quiet and introspective, much like the main character of Rose. And yet its impact is deep, its elongated takes allowing space for the full humanness of its characters and their emotions to unfurl during a difficult moment in their lives.
The beautifully pared-down writing has little dialogue, but the emotional development from moment to moment is rich with unspoken thoughts and feelings. It follows the perspective of the photographer as Rose enters what she knows to be an emotionally raw situation. The storytelling truly finds its wings when Rose enters the sanctum of Olivia and Isaac, who are both devastated by their loss. As Rose gently directs her photographic subjects, she also must recognize and accept their deep emotions: the love they have for their child, and the immense sorrow that they must say goodbye to their baby as well.
As Rose, actor Caitlin FitzGerald -- who audiences may know from shows like SWEETBITTER or STATION ELEVEN -- offers a captivating, grounded performance, quietly and sensitively responding to actors Rhea Bailer and Sule Rimi as the grieving couple. FitzGerald's performance is beautiful and moving, but it also encapsulates the central insight of the film, one that transforms both the photographer and the subject.
Beyond dramatizing a difficult subject often not portrayed in film or television, STILLNESS shows what it means to hold space for others' sadness and grief. As Rose demonstrates, empathy and compassion are active, not passive. They often require people to set aside their discomfort, reactions or ideas and be present to what's happening in front of them. But offering that non-judgmental, open spaciousness for difficult emotion -- and giving your pure focus and attention -- is often one of the highest acts of service that human beings can bestow. It's an act of profound generosity, capable of moving all parties involved.
A photographer takes portraits of a family.
STILLNESS is used with permission from Rachel Fowler. Learn more at instagram.com/stillnessfilm.
Rose and Tom are a couple waiting anxiously in a hospital waiting room. They have been at this hospital before: Tom is nervous, while Rose seems withdrawn in her thoughts, cradling a black bag in her lap tenderly. But they aren't there to be seen by a doctor. Rose is there in another capacity, for another family.
Remembering what happened during her own trip to the hospital, Rose finally makes her way into a patient's room, and she reveals what's in her bag: a camera. She's there to take remembrance photos for a couple, Olivia and Isaac, who have just lost a baby in a stillbirth. The photo session is difficult, painful and moving all at once, as Rose gently bears witness to this family's grief, playing a small yet crucial role in what will likely prove a longer journey for both Rose and the family.
Directed and written by Rachel Fowler, this gentle yet moving short drama captures what it means to hold space for someone's raw grief after a devastating loss. The title of the film is both its subject and its style, as it respectfully takes on the subject of stillbirths with an almost minimalistic approach to storytelling that is sparse and elegantly composed. Shot with a clean, serene brightness that belies the sorrow of the film's characters and subject matter, the pacing and tenor of the film are quiet and introspective, much like the main character of Rose. And yet its impact is deep, its elongated takes allowing space for the full humanness of its characters and their emotions to unfurl during a difficult moment in their lives.
The beautifully pared-down writing has little dialogue, but the emotional development from moment to moment is rich with unspoken thoughts and feelings. It follows the perspective of the photographer as Rose enters what she knows to be an emotionally raw situation. The storytelling truly finds its wings when Rose enters the sanctum of Olivia and Isaac, who are both devastated by their loss. As Rose gently directs her photographic subjects, she also must recognize and accept their deep emotions: the love they have for their child, and the immense sorrow that they must say goodbye to their baby as well.
As Rose, actor Caitlin FitzGerald -- who audiences may know from shows like SWEETBITTER or STATION ELEVEN -- offers a captivating, grounded performance, quietly and sensitively responding to actors Rhea Bailer and Sule Rimi as the grieving couple. FitzGerald's performance is beautiful and moving, but it also encapsulates the central insight of the film, one that transforms both the photographer and the subject.
Beyond dramatizing a difficult subject often not portrayed in film or television, STILLNESS shows what it means to hold space for others' sadness and grief. As Rose demonstrates, empathy and compassion are active, not passive. They often require people to set aside their discomfort, reactions or ideas and be present to what's happening in front of them. But offering that non-judgmental, open spaciousness for difficult emotion -- and giving your pure focus and attention -- is often one of the highest acts of service that human beings can bestow. It's an act of profound generosity, capable of moving all parties involved.
