ONE HUNDRED

DIRECTORS STATEMENT

I’ve thought about relationships a lot the past few years. I think it’s understandable given that so much of our individual experiences over the course of the pandemic have hinged on our relationships to the people around us. Whether we trust them. Whether we believe they’re being honest with us. Over the past few years, our ability to trust each other has had life and death consequences. Yet despite this, I think it’s natural for us to want to trust each other. We want to believe that each of us is putting our best foot forward. That we’re all working toward a collective good. So what happens when that trust is abused? What happens when the people we thought were looking out for us, aren’t?

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I think families of origin are a perfect vessel for examining this dichotomy. Our families of origin are supposed to be the first people we trust. Yet it’s nearly impossible to find someone whose family of origin hasn’t tested that trust. That hasn’t examined our weakest links and prodded our attempts at honesty. We hope that as we age, our families will grow with us and try to understand us as we are. But that’s not always true, especially in situations of poverty. The desire to simply stay afloat can warp trust into a sharp instrument. That instrument- sharpened to a fine point by the cycle of poverty- often punctures the dreams of youth. Nevermind setting healthy boundaries. Trusting your family becomes secondary to meeting everyone's basic needs.

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The basic action of “One Hundred” appears simple: A young woman wants to move out on her own and has to talk to her mom about it. Yet what should be a straightforward conversation soon morphs into death by a thousand cuts. They pick at each other; subtle jabs and veiled manipulations. The subtext of each sentence hangs in the air. Both afraid to say what they really mean for fear of how it could jeopardize the present. A relationship not founded on honesty is no relationship at all, and so the conversation tilts toward the only direction it can- a dishonest one. Trust cannot bloom here. Instead we’re left with the brutality of its absence.

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Our protagonist, Alex, is a character who has played this game her entire life. Yet given the short running time, much of this fraught relationship with her mother has to be inferred. I was fortunate to work with amazing actresses Monika Elmont and Telisa Steen who rehearsed with me in advance to build this relationship on screen. As prep, I also sought to watch films that dealt heavily with subtext within relationships. Specific examples included Elaine May’s “Mikey and Nicky” and Barry Jenkin’s “Moonlight.” I would also be remiss if I didn’t include the filmography of Jane Campion, to which everything I make is profoundly indebted. The fingerprints of her work are everywhere on “One Hundred”, but perhaps especially on the visuals where we sought to create dark, textured backgrounds similar to that of “The Piano” and “Portrait of a Lady.” Paul Thomas Anderson’s “The Master” was also an influence visually, but also in terms of the script. The concept of two characters nudging their way through a power struggle is so fully realized in that film; it felt impossible not to take it as inspiration.

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Making “One Hundred” has been the most personal and fulfilling creative experience I’ve had yet. The ideas I set out to explore with it feel like an encapsulation of the strife and frustration of the past few years, while the filmmaking feels like an enormous step forward for me as a director. I set out to tell a story about two characters on the opposite sides of an idea. By boiling down my process to the purest dramatic level, I’ve created a project I’m tremendously proud of. I hope you find it as rewarding as I do