Still Here_FINAL_Compressed.mp4
Still Here_FINAL_Vimeo720p.mp4
‘Still Here’ Reflection
What I Gained from the Studio
This studio gave me a deeper understanding of how cinematic storytelling can be used to explore emotional experiences in ways that go beyond surface-level drama with my experience being mostly horror. It was good to branch out. Our short film, Still Here, was created to capture the emotional tension that lingers when grief remains unresolved not through heavy-handed exposition or genre clichés, but through the small, domestic moments of everyday life. At first glance, the film seems to be about a couple bickering in their apartment. But as the narrative unfolds, it becomes clear that Casey is a ghost, and the argument is actually a manifestation of their frustration with the situation and inability to let go.
The aim of our film was to connect with audiences through subtlety and realism. Rather than framing Casey’s ghost as frightening, we approached his presence with emotional warmth and sadness. This aligned with what Susan Hayward (2000) describes as cinema’s ability to “speak through images and mood,” allowing space for personal reflection and layered meaning. Our hope was that viewers would relate to the way grief can haunt everyday life and how something as simple as a dirty kitchen can carry the weight of someone no longer being there.
If we were to continue developing Still Here, there are several aspects we’d want to improve or build upon. The ghost element, while emotionally strong, could be enhanced with more visual and sound design such as Casey’s absence in reflections, or he’s interactions being more distant with Alex. With more time and resources, we’d also refine the pacing of the final scenes to deepen the emotional payoff. Expanding the narrative beyond the final couch scene might allow us to explore how Alex begins the process of healing.
This studio encouraged me to trust subtle storytelling and showed me how effective careful cinematography, sound, and editing can be in communicating internal experiences. In many ways, our film embodies what Jason Mittell (2020) identifies as “prestige television” aesthetics: emotionally complex, slow-burning, and character-driven. We aimed for the same tone in a short format minimalist, but something felt.
Making the Film: Development to Post
Development and Pre-Production
The idea for Still Here began as a short sketch in our idea draft, a passive-aggressive fight between two partners that ends with the reveal that one of them is a ghost. This basic concept gave us a lot to work with. From the start, we wanted the story to feel grounded and relatable, with hints of something deeper beneath the surface. The tone was inspired by character-driven dramas that slowly shift into something more surreal, similar to the kinds of subtle genre blends discussed by Cable (2007), who outlines how emotional storytelling can be layered within everyday realism.
In our early writing sessions, we developed Casey and Alex as opposites. Casey was structured, clean, and careful traits that, in life, might have been annoying to Alex, but in death become symbols of everything she’s lost. Alex, on the other hand, is chaotic, unstructured, and emotionally avoidant. This character dynamic shaped everything from our script to our set design.
The pre-production phase involved scripting, shot planning, casting, and preparing logistics. We created a detailed Shot List and used the Call Sheet to organise our filming day. Our location, a Docklands apartment that was Laura’s mothers, was selected because it felt like a real lived-in space. As Babbar (2024) argues, the evolution of cinema has always relied on creating believable environments that support character-driven narratives, and we used this principle to guide our production design.
We paid special attention to the opening montage. These scenes of Casey and Alex eating together, dancing while cleaning, folding laundry were shot with warm light and smooth editing to create a feeling of comfort and routine. This “normal/happy” was key to setting up the emotional contrast that happens.
Production
Filming took place on May 9th. We followed a clear schedule outlined in our Production Timeline, allowing us to manage time and energy across the shoot. Our team included Yusuf Abas (Director), Zara Carter (Producer), Laura Sanigorski (DOP), and Hao Wen (/Editor), along with actors Rosie Hanna and Michael Percival.
The shoot went smoothly overall, though we had to adjust a few scenes based on lighting and actor availability. One of the challenges was keeping the “ghost logic” consistent. For example, we made sure that Casey never physically interacted with anything after the montage. His distance from objects and from Alex helped build the sense of absence.
We also used space in careful ways. In scenes where tension rises, we placed Casey slightly off-centre or framed him alone in wide shots. This visual separation supported the emotional distance between the characters and hinted at his ghostly nature, without needing to say it outright. This use of space reflects what Irshad Ahead (2024) describes as the “shadow play” of Golden Age cinema where absence and presence are played off each other visually rather than literally.
Post-Production
Editing allowed us to sharpen the emotional pacing of the film. The first third of the film is filled with movement and sound characters talking, music playing, objects being used. But as Casey’s ghostly state becomes clearer, the pacing slows, the shots linger, and the background noise fades. This change was intentional and supported by Hao Wen’s sound design. Moments of silence were often more effective than music or dialogue, giving the audience time to feel what was happening.
The Colour Grading process was also essential Laura headed this supported by Hao Wen. We began with warmer burnt orange tones to reflect comfort and intimacy. As tension grew, we shifted to black white and greys to show that contrast had changed emotionally. According to Lyons (2020), colour and tone in modern streaming television often reflect emotional journeys, particularly in stories about memory and personal loss. This approach directly influenced how we treated the visual tone of our film.
Some of our best editing choices were simple: letting a shot run a second longer, or fading out the sound just before a key line. These techniques created mood and meaning without over-explaining anything and helped us keep a scene longer without ruining it with extra dialogue that was meaningless.
One of my favorite moments is the bedscene. Alex leans her head toward Casey’s space, but they don’t touch. That space between them that emotional gap, says more than any line could. It’s the moment where she starts to accept he’s gone, even if she’s not ready to say goodbye yet.
Collaboration
This film was very much a team effort. Our group worked well together, and each person brought their strengths to the project. I had a vision for performance and blocking. Zara was highly organised, keeping production on track and supporting everyone. Laura’s cinematography helped shape the visual style, and Hao Wen was on Boom capturing sound. I contributed mosty during preproduction and production , only providing feedback during post-production.
We had creative disagreements, especially about how “ghostly” to make Casey. Some of us wanted to make it obvious using effects like Casey disappearing in a mirror while some wanted a softer, more emotional approach. In the end, we all agreed on the softer emotional approach removing the supernatural element down to a fade out. We didn’t overdo the supernatural, which kept the focus on the emotional story.
Throughout the semester, our class activities helped us practice these skills. Previous assignments being on camera framing, movement, tone, and editing all became tools we used in our final shoot. Watching other groups ideas and presentation also helped us reflect on our own process. Seeing the variety of approaches in class gave us confidence that there wasn’t just one way to tell a good story.
Reflection on Peer Presentation
One of the standout pitches from Week 9 was Lazy Susan by Group 6. Although the film wasn’t completed yet, their concept was clear, well-developed, and visually strong. Set around a family dinner in an Asian household, the project used the rotating Lazy Susan as a central metaphor, representing cycles of communication, tension, and cultural tradition.
Their intention to reflect personal cultural experiences through a prestige cinema lens was particularly compelling. Drawing inspiration from high-quality family dramas, the group focused on subtle character dynamics and unspoken tension. Their plan to use long takes, emotional dialogue reminded me of the visual storytelling techniques we used in Still Here, especially in scenes where mood and silence carried emotional weight.
Even without a finished product in mind, the group’s focus on emotional realism and visual symbolism was clear. Their pitch showed a strong understanding of how domestic space and performance can speak volumes, a quality we also aimed for in our own work. It was a thoughtful and grounded concept that, once realised, will likely be very moving and relatable.
Reference List
- Ahead, I. (2024). Shadows and light: Exploring the legacy of Golden Age cinema. The Seybold Report, 19(1), 854–862.
- Babbar, I. (2024). Evolution of cinema. International Journal for Multidisciplinary Research, 6(1), 1–4.
- Cable, C. (2007). Two modes of prestige film. Screen, 48(3), 291–311. https://doi.org/10.1093/screen/hjm017
- Hayward, S. (2000). Cinema studies: Key concepts (2nd ed.). Routledge.
- Lyons, S. (2020). A streaming comes across the sky: Peak TV and the fate of nostalgia. Flow Journal: A Critical Forum on Media and Culture, 26(5), 1–6. https://www.flowjournal.org/2020/05/streaming-nostalgia/
- Mittell, J. (2020). Better Call SaulThe prestige spinoff. In E. Thompson & J. Mittell (Eds.), How to watch television (2nd ed., pp. 13–21). New York University Press.