“A Safe Space to Heal and Play” | Kelly O’Sullivan, Ghostlight
Courtesy of IFC Films
The sophomore feature from Alex Thompson and Kelly O’Sullivan, following their critically acclaimed Saint Frances, Ghostlight stars a real-life family of actors, as well as Golden Globe nominee Dolly De Leon (Triangle of Sadness).
Dan (Keith Kupferer), a melancholic middle-aged construction worker grieving a family tragedy. Cut off from his devoted wife, Sharon (Tara Mallen), and talented but troubled daughter, Daisy (Katherine Mallen Kupferer), Dan finds comfort and community in a misfit company of amateur actors. While moonlighting in a low-rent production of Shakespeare’s most protean tragedy, Dan is forced to confront his buried emotions.
Screening Thursday, May 9, at 8:30 p.m, as a closing-night title for the Chicago Critics Film Festival (get tickets now), this Chicago-made feature was a breakout hit at this year’s Sundance Film Festival.
Ahead of Ghostlight screening at the Chicago Critics Film Festival, writer-director Kelly O’Sullivan graciously took the time to answer this year’s CCFF filmmaker questionnaire. Below, her individual responses.
Courtesy of IFC Films
How did you first become interested in filmmaking? What was your path toward directing your first film?
I was an actor for most of my career, and my favorite thing was to work on new plays. Gradually, I found myself wanting to write something myself. I started to write Saint Frances, not thinking I would ever finish the script, let alone that we would make it and people would see it. Since then, I've been cautiously hopeful that I'll be able to make films the rest of my life.
What inspired you to make the film you're bringing to the festival?
I love theatre, especially tiny black box theatre in which no one involved is doing it for money or fame, but sheerly for the love of it. I've had some of the most transformative moments of my life in those spaces, and made lifelong friends. As the story of Ghostlight began to form in my head and heart, I knew I wanted to write a kind of love letter to those theatre communities. This film both pokes fun at and earnestly celebrates art-making, the way it can crack people open, and provide a safe space to heal and play.
Courtesy of IFC Films
Tell us about a film that you consider a guiding influence (whether it has informed your overarching vision as a filmmaker, directly informed the title you're bringing to the festival, or both).
My two guiding lights for Ghostlight were Manchester by the Sea and Waiting for Guffman. An odd coupling, I know, but I think when you see the film it makes sense.
Tell us about a location that's held significance to the film you're bringing to the festival: a setting where filming took place, a geographic area that provided a source of inspiration, or another type of space that comes to mind for you in thinking about the film. What made this place so special?
We found the perfect space to be the home of the theatre troupe at Three Brothers Theatre in Waukegan. We walked in, and they were having a costume sale: racks and racks of old wardrobe from every time period and genre, old sets lining the walls, torn sofas, fencing swords, a mashup of stories performed over the years... it was a cocoon away from the real world, worn and warm. We spent many days filming there, cast and crew hanging out in the audience seats between set ups. It felt like home.
The theatrical experience brings us together to celebrate artistic experience and expand our horizons as human beings. Tell us about a memorable theatrical experience from your life.
I met Keith Kupferer and Hanna Dworkin, who are both actors in Ghostlight, in the world premiere production of The Humans at the now defunct American Theater Company almost ten years ago. I got to see how incredible they both are up close every night. PJ Paparelli, who directed the play, died in a freak accident not long after, and that was the last project on which I worked with him. And Stephen Karam's brilliant script is a constant inspiration for my own writing: deeply funny and sad, utterly human.