WINNERS & LOSERS

Fifteen year old Carrie-Jean worries that her lower class status will fail to impress her new boyfriend, August, and faces a difficult choice when August makes a bet with her neighbor over an R.C. car that he can't afford to lose.

INTERVIEW: Dir: Cecila Wheeler

What inspired you to make this film?

I grew up in Washington, and I wanted to tell a story rooted in the experiences of teenagers I knew. The film explores that moment when you're becoming aware of class differences—those subtle moments when you realise your life doesn't quite look like someone else's. I remember friends who were embarrassed by where they lived because it didn't match the future they imagined for themselves. I also wanted to capture that feeling many teenage girls experience: believing that if they just had the right clothes, the right house or the right possessions, they'd finally become the person they wanted to be.

What is the film ultimately about?

Rather than delivering a clear message, I wanted the film to leave viewers feeling that something had shifted inside the character. By the end, she realises she isn't going to find validation through material things or relationships. Instead, she makes a decision for herself—one that reflects the kind of person she wants to become rather than what she wants to own.

What interested you most about the protagonist?

She's constantly trying to take care of other people. She looks after her younger brother, feels responsible for a boy from her neighbourhood and is chasing acceptance from another boy who represents a different social class. Throughout the film she's living for everyone else, and by the end she finally makes a choice for herself.

Why did you decide to shoot the film in black and white?

 My cinematographer and I both arrived at that idea independently. We were shooting during late autumn when everything becomes muddy and brown, and we didn't want audiences to associate the character's economic circumstances with a dull visual world. Black and white allowed us to focus on shape, texture and emotion rather than colour. It also gave the film a timeless quality while still feeling modern.

Did you have any visual references?

We looked at films like Roma, but we were actually inspired just as much by digital black-and-white photography and early-2000s skate videos. We wanted a clean, contemporary black-and-white image rather than something nostalgic or vintage.

How did the cinematography reflect the story?

Everything was designed to keep the audience emotionally close to the protagonist. The framing, the contrast and even allowing parts of the frame to fall into darkness all came from her perspective. We wanted viewers to experience the world as she experienced it rather than observing her from a distance.

Was there a favourite camera shot?

We mounted a camera onto the back of an RC car, which everyone thought would be difficult or gimmicky, but it ended up becoming one of my favourite shots. It has this playful energy that reminded us of skate videos and perfectly matched the emotional language of the film.

How important was sound design?

Sound was incredibly important. We wanted the audience to notice small environmental details—the sound of water in the swimming pool, traffic heard from underwater, crowds fading as we moved closer to the protagonist. Every sound was designed to place viewers inside her emotional world.

Can you talk about the music?

Originally we licensed an existing song, but later I had the opportunity to work with a composer through my film school. We spent weeks developing an original musical theme based on songs that inspired me emotionally. Rather than writing cues scene by scene, he composed one complete piece that became the emotional heart of the film, and we then adapted that into the score.

How did you approach casting?

We held auditions, but we also searched extensively online. Our lead actress actually came through Instagram. She was originally a dancer, and I loved the physical awareness she brought to the role. Once we found her, we built the rest of the cast around her.

What made the actors stand out?

None of them played stereotypes. One actor understood the emotional depth behind what could easily have become a one-dimensional bully. He found the vulnerability underneath the character instead of simply playing him as cruel.

What was the biggest lesson you learned making the film?

To trust your own voice. It's tempting to make something that feels safe or polished, but I'd rather make something imperfect that genuinely reflects who I am. If you're going to fail, fail trying to make the film you truly believe in.

What's the hardest part of being a filmmaker?

Putting your work into the world. It's incredibly vulnerable. Most of the time you're learning through failure, and that can feel embarrassing. But that's also how you improve. You have to accept that growth comes from making things before you're completely ready.

You've spoken about women in filmmaking. How do you view that conversation?

I don't really think of myself as a female director—I think of myself as a director. At the end of the day we're all storytellers trying to make meaningful work. While it's wonderful to celebrate women in film, I also think it's important to recognise us simply as filmmakers.

Looking back now, what stays with you most?

The collaboration. Film is such a collective art form. Every member of the crew contributed ideas that made the film stronger than anything I could have created alone. Looking back, that's what I'm most grateful for—the people who believed in the project and helped bring it to life.