Grief Beast

Grief Beast is a short film about a young woman who loses her mom and gains a demon-like entity that follows her around and won’t leave her the f*** alone. He’s kind of obsessed with her and she’s… starting to like him.

Based *loosely* on my real life experience after losing both my parents.

Director’s Vision for ‘Grief Beast’

In January of 2020 I was standing outside the Egyptian Theatre in Park City, Utah trying to get my mom and dad to figure out how to see me on FaceTime as I showed them the marquee that read “Sundance Film Festival” towering above me. Their faces lit up when they finally saw it. I had two lines in Bill Benz’ The Nowhere Inn and I was headed to the premiere. My credit was just “Fan # 2”, and I only had one line, but I felt like I had really made it. My parents acted like I was winning an Oscar. They cheered so loud I had to click the volume down to almost zero. It was one of the happiest days of my life. And then the pandemic happened. And nine months later, my mom was dead, and my dad was diagnosed with ALS and given 2-5 years to live. I didn’t think much about my career after that, I just tried to survive in a life now shattered and small, day after day, with the unrelenting grief like a monster on my heels.

I felt the need to say something about all this. To express it. But it was hard to find the energy to write. I was still too deep in grief to make anything out of it. And I needed to find a way to make a living. While caretaking for my dad as his disease progressed, I needed income, and I needed a job that would distract me. Something that would keep me from constantly dwelling on everything I had lost and was losing. So I auditioned to be a scare actor at Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios. I had never gone as a guest, because I was petrified of haunted houses. Not even gale force peer pressure could have convinced me to go. I figured if I got the job I’d be scared enough at work to not think about anything else. I hoped the fake mortal threats would keep my mind off the real ones.

My first day was horrible. They made us walk through the mazes and I cried every time someone jumped out at me. But as the event went on, I got used to it. I was surrounded by monsters on a daily basis. Eating lunch with them. Laughing with them. Falling in love with them as people. The scariest performers became some of my best friends. What was just supposed to be a distraction turned out to be so much more than I could have imagined. The color started returning to the world around me. Loss was still a part of my world, but it wasn’t my whole world anymore. And that’s when it dawned on me. This is grief. In the early stages it’s this terrifying, all-encompassing force. But in time, its layers reveal themselves. It can even be a comforting companion, a reminder of the love that endures. So there, on the Universal backlot, covered in sweat and fake blood, Grief Beast was born. I made this film to speak to the totality of the grieving process. To shed light on its complexity. And poke fun at the absurdity of trying to escape it. Grief is a beast, but it’s not a monster. And now I know it well.

My parents will never get to see this movie, but they’re in every frame. And I hope anyone who watches it can see someone they love in it too. Thank you to our incredible cast and crew, and all the scare actors that brought this film to life. Thank you for watching.