Joshua Polasnki – Thin Places was in part inspired by a real story of grief. How autobiographical is the story we see on screen?

Brit Hensel – I wrote Thin Places during my first real experience with grief, after losing someone I loved deeply. Grief can be incredibly isolating, and I struggled with it quietly for a long time. But I think there’s a fundamental human need to be witnessed — to know that our pain, our love, and our losses matter. That they’re not just endured, but transformed into something that can reach and resonate with others.

This wasn’t a film I made because it sounded interesting or fun – I made it because I had to. It felt, in many ways, like a lifeline. Grief is the cost of loving deeply, and it’s something everyone eventually faces. I took the heaviest parts of that experience and buried them in story, in image, in character— especially that of Birdie. Thin Places became a snapshot of that specific season in my life. And now, seeing it in the world, watching it connect with others in their own seasons of grief — that has been incredibly meaningful.

JP – Have you had the chance to show the film to those who were also grieving with you? If so, how did that go? If not, would you like to?

BH – With our first few festivals under our belt, I’ve had the chance to speak with audience members about how the film has resonated with them. There have been many tear-filled conversations where people shared deeply personal stories – how the film brought them back to someone they’ve lost, how it reflected their own experiences of love and grief, and how it offered some sense of healing.

It’s incredibly meaningful to know the film is meeting people where they are — that it’s making space for their feelings, just as it did for mine.

JP – You start indoors, but the last two-thirds of the film all takes place outside and under this almost magically lit sun. The outdoors feels warm. Could you please walk us through the decision of both the outdoor settings and the lighting you opted for?

BH – Anyone who’s seen Days of Heaven [Terrence Malick, 1978] knows how powerful the golden hour can be – it brings a real emotional texture. For me, it’s always felt like a sacred time of day, a moment where magic feels possible.

Interestingly, in the writing process of Thin Places, I wrote both the meadow scene and the backyard scene first. Both were set at golden hour from the start. I knew I wanted that time of day to act as a kind of portal – a space where the present world and the other side could merge. It’s in that light that Birdie and Tama are able to meet again — where time feels suspended and communication is still possible.

The golden hour helped amplify that feeling. We had a short window each day to capture it, but it was worth the fight because that Oklahoma light gave those scenes the atmosphere and emotional weight they needed.

JP – You can often learn a lot about the vision for a film by knowing who was brought onto the project first. Who was the first person you brought onto Thin Places? What made them so integral to executing your vision?

BH – Thin Places was written, directed, produced and starred Native women from the Caddo, Cherokee, Chickasaw, Han Gwich’in, Muscogee Creek, Seminole, and Sicangu/Oglala Lakota Nations – a vision made possible by a collective of Native women creatives.

Because the project was rooted in community from the very beginning, the vision was built through relationships, previous collaborations, and a deep commitment to telling this story together.

We filmed Thin Places on the Muscogee Creek Nation Reservation in Tulsa, Oklahoma where myself and our crew live and work. Together our team represents 14 tribal nations, and for many of us, this land holds generations of family, memory, and tradition. Filming in a place where our tribal communities are – and where we are rooted – was profoundly important to the creation of this film.

JP – Death’s not the final stop in Thin Places. The structure mirrors this: it feels as if this is just a window into Birdie’s grief. A glimpse into what it feels like to be here at a point in the process of grief, but it’s by no means a final chapter on her processing or Tama’s memory. Can you tell me more about the “thin places” and how you think about the relationship between time and grief?

BH – I come from a community that views death differently than many others. For Kituwah (Cherokee) people, and for many Native communities, death isn’t the final stop. Our teachings remind us that those we’ve lost are never truly gone – and that even in physical absence, there are still ways to connect to them. I’ve heard elders speak about “thin places” – those spaces where the veil between this world and the next are closer. In my own experience, I’ve found that to be true. It’s in those places that I’ve felt the presence of those I’ve lost. And it’s in those moments that I’ve found the strength to keep going. This film is a reflection of the belief that our connections can always continue.

JP – Can you tell me about your production company Tuya Gadu Productions and how your relationship with your sister, who co-founded it with you, may have informed how you wrote the two sisters?

BH – My sister Taylor was the first person to ever put a camera in my hands. Since then, we’ve been making films together. She’s an incredibly talented director and producer – and has produced every film I’ve made. With Thin Places, we decided to formalise our collaboration by founding Tuya Gadu Productions.

Taylor and I are very yin and yang — where I fall short, she’s strong, and vice versa. She’s walked alongside me my whole life, including through the grief that led to the creation of Thin Places. She understands how I think and how I see the world better than anyone. That made her essential to shaping and facilitating the vision of this film.

She’s also the reason I rooted this story in the love between two sisters. While I haven’t lost a sibling, I do know what it means to love one deeply – and because of my relationship with Taylor, I can imagine the weight of that kind of loss. Without her, this film wouldn’t exist – both in its creation and in the emotional core that holds it together.

JP – What was the hardest aspect of production?

BH – Shooting in the dead of Oklahoma summer was by far the hardest aspect of this shoot!

JP – Shelby Factor (as Birdie) and Quannah Chasinghorse (Tama) both do a good job of conveying so much emotion in just 17 minutes. Can you walk me through the casting process? How early in pre-production did you know who would be playing Birdie and Tama?

BH – Initially, I wanted to cast two real-life sisters to play Birdie and Tama, but it quickly became clear that would be difficult logistically. That’s when Shelby Factor and Quannah Chasinghorse came to mind.

I had met both Shelby and Quannah on the set of FX’s Reservation Dogs in 2023, where I worked in the camera department across all three seasons. They were both cast in Season 3, Episode 5, so I had already seen their work – but more importantly, I’d witnessed their natural chemistry off camera. Their dynamic felt genuinely sisterly.

But for me, casting wasn’t just about chemistry. I needed young Native women who could fully own the characters I’d written – women who wouldn’t shrink from the space I was giving them to bring their imagination and lived experience into the roles. I’m deeply inspired by John Cassavetes’ approach to actors, emphasixing giving them agency and a real stake in their characters.

Many times I’d have Shelby and Quannah run a scripted scene, then improvise it. That improvisation brought out an authenticity that I was hunting for, and much of their improvised work made it into the final cut.

Their performances brought Birdie and Tama to life in layered, grounded, and real ways. I’m incredibly grateful for their artistry and courage, and I can’t wait to see what they do next.

JP – What’s one thing you learned on this project that you hope to bring into your next project?

BH – One thing I learned on this project and will continue to bring with me is that good things happen when I trust myself and follow what I’m seeing and feeling. Directing, to me, is about making space for what wants to come forward – even if it feels scary, big, or heavy. When you tell a story you truly know and stay honest to it, that’s when film can deeply impact others on a heart level.

JP – What’s next?

BH – I’m currently directing and in production on my first feature documentary, What She Carries. It’s about the revitalisation of traditional birthing practices in Indigenous communities like my own across Turtle Island (in the United States). Many of the women who worked on Thin Places are now part of this new project, and I’m excited to continue our collaboration as Native women creatives on a film that holds deep meaning for our communities and the people that we come from.