“Sometimes when I found myself on an empty subway platform late at night with a train barreling through the tunnel, I had to concentrate to keep from stepping in front of it. There was no logical thought, no actual intention; just a sudden, intense desire to casually step in front of a train and die.”
― Lily Dancyger, Negative Space
ĀN
Genre: Family, Drama
Length: 99 pages
Language: English
Location: Boston, MA/Singapore
Logline:
The tragedy of her granddaughter forces Xiu Hua to journey across the globe and reunite with her long-estranged family. Together, three generations must confront overwhelming grief, religious conflict, and decades of misunderstanding to reconstruct the meaning of life and the strength of family bonds.
Writer Statement:
I left my hometown at a very young age as an athlete and traveled between cities. I moved to America for college, and now I live thousands of miles away from my family. Over time, these questions about the definition of home and the longing for belonging have been quietly nourished within me.
I think about death a lot. It’s almost impossible to think about the meaning of life without thinking about death. To me, death is not burdened with negativity, but embraced as a natural part of existence. But my family, and most families, treat it as unspeakable. I grew frustrated and felt isolated when the most vulnerable, honest part of myself was rejected by the people I trusted the most and the place that should be my shelter. This story of Xiu Hua’s family has become a mirror for my own. As I built their world in this script, I found myself learning, growing, and changing alongside my characters.
Death might set a depressed tone in Ān (安), but its essence lies beyond the sorrow. It’s the lessons that the elders learn—through the heartbreaking tragedy of a young girl—about the randomness of life and the strength of family bonds. The story begins with questions about death but ends beyond reason. What is beautiful and should be cherished is the journey in the middle. To simply move forward, carrying all the good and bad, might be life’s quiet essence.