“Filmmaking is a craft skill, no different than a shoe-making guild in the Middle Ages.”
Filming with a distinct sense of purpose and authenticity, award-winning director Ami Canaan Mann’s latest film Audrey’s Children tells the aspirational true story of Dr. Audrey Evans. It is 1969 and amongst the growing tensions of anti-Vietnam protests, Evans (Natalie Dormer) fights her own revolution in finding a breakthrough in cancer treatment for children amid the dated, crowded hallways of Philadelphia’s world-renowned Children’s Hospital. As the only woman in the room, she balances fierce determination with an undeniably tender bedside manner for the families of ill children, becoming the first female chief of paediatric oncology in CHOP’s history
Illustrating Audrey Evans’ progressive new treatment methods was a huge responsibility for Mann as she exquisitely captures a revolutionary era in the world of medicine and the woman behind it. Working alongside writer/producer, Julia Fisher Farbman they took a page out of the good doctor’s book, that “No” was simply never an option — this film was going to be made, no matter what. So, committed to an inspiring story, the production set out to bring to life the impeccable details of the period while also building a wonderful sense of scope for this often-overlooked chapter of American history.
Mann recently took time out to discuss Audrey’s Children in more detail ahead of its US premiere…
Thank you for bringing this important story to life. It must have been a very emotional journey considering the subject matter. As the director, what did you find most challenging about working on the project?
As a director, probably the most challenging and exciting aspect of working on the project was how to use all the tools of a director — camera, light, sound, performance, music — to render a tough subject matter into a world the audience would want to sink into deeply enough and take away some of its central themes such as the prioritisation of kids, the prioritisation of scientific research and the prioritisation of medical innovation. And then, with all that, hopefully feeling that the film is compelling and remains emotionally resonant.
Other than your father, Michael Mann, which filmmakers have you been inspired by over the years?
So many! Early on, when I was 20, I had the great good fortune of being an intern assistant for Robert Redford on A River Runs Through It. He was incredibly generous and allowed me to shadow him while he moved through casting, prep, watching the dailies with the crew after wrap, talking with department heads, etc.
Among many other critical things, it showed me that a director should discern their own, unique approach to the material based on our own unique point of view. What I saw — at least from the distant POV of the kid carrying around the video assist monitor on set — was a director who almost embodied the film and approached its making with a kind of gentle, tenacious determination. That there was a strength and quiet knowing. I’m not certain I replicate that myself (though I wish I could), but I try. It inspired me to know that whatever my own approach would be as a director it would be equally correct if only because (and only if it was) genuinely mine.
It also showed me that, as directors, it’s imperative to mentor. Filmmaking is a craft skill, no different than a shoe-making guild in the Middle Ages. Knowledge passed down from person to person. And this is a part of its magic and power. And then, of course, so many inspiring filmmakers. Too many to name, but here are just a few: Barbara Kopple, Frank Capra, Preston Sturges, Julie Dash, Howard Hawks, Jonathan Kaplan, Kathryn Bigelow, George Stevens, Billy Wilder, etc, etc. We’re fortunate to have a long list. Indeed, we all stand on the shoulders of giants.
I understand writer/producer Julia Fisher Farbman (right) knew Audrey Evans (left) her entire life. How did her script come to you?
The script came to me just after I’d wrapped a Netflix pilot we shot in Madrid during the pandemic. My ‘how to pay the rent’ career began as a writer, and I loved the world-building I was able to do on features and the Netflix pilot. When I met Julia, I just loved her passion, her story, and her total tenacity — every cent for this film was raised by Julia and independently — and I was excited about delving again into indie film and trying to help tell this story with her.
There was a specific moment in the script surrounding a child’s concept of mortality, which you found extremely powerful and made you want to make Audrey’s Children. It’s a beautiful scene. I’m interested to know what was going through your head at that moment both as an instinctual response but also how that played out in your mind’s eye, cinematically.
Thank you so much. The scene struck me so deeply because I thought, my God, here is an adult whose job, passion, and purpose is to save this child’s life… and she also knows she may not succeed. And in the face of that possible, horrific failure, she’s brave enough to give this child a concept of the child’s own passing such that the child will have something to hold onto and give her solace. Only the best of us, like Dr. Evans, put our egos aside and presage our own possible failures by preparing so carefully the very people we might fail.
In regards to blocking, camera and composition, I wanted to visually convey the beautiful equanimity of that moral gesture. It felt critical that Natalie and Julianna Layne, who plays Mia, were, literally, eye to eye. Shoulder to shoulder. Looking at the same horizon. They were two soldiers fighting the same battle… and with an aching awareness it was likely a battle they would both lose. Therefore, it was important that the camera (the audience) was positioned just beneath their eye-lines and close in proximity so that we felt the power of their being unified in the cause.
Obviously, cancer is devastating and impacts a great deal of people during their lifetime. Not only is the film delivering increased awareness of the disease but it also introduces audiences to another important female figure who may have often been overlooked. How have you handled what must be an immense amount of pressure to direct a film that carries so much weight?
As with any story for me, really, it all comes down to character. The approach to the story felt no different, really, than making sure you understood a friend; her struggles, her flaws, her ambitions, her successes, her failures, the world she’s walking in. Then, working to convey those moments with as much alacrity, beauty and authenticity as possible to others. It may sound a little myopic, but I tried — and try — not to think about ‘meaning’ per se. For me, it feels maybe a little too distant and almost a little dangerous. Primarily, I’m thinking, am I doing the character justice? Are we conveying what we intended to convey? And then hope we did our jobs right and the stars align and it resonates.
The film is set in 1969 (coincidently, the year you were born) and makes every effort to bring such an extraordinary story to the forefront, pushing the noise of the space race to the background. I find this an incredibly powerful message in itself which, although some would claim the space race has led to important developments in technology, only reminds us all the more of where the focus should be: full investment in finding a cure for cancer.
Could not agree more regarding funding for cancer. And, sadly, pediatric cancer research specifically was, and is, still chronically underfunded. The world can feel — and right now especially feels — disassembled and chaotic; being wrenched apart at the seams. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed and disheartened (and this might be by the wrenchers’ design) but if Audrey’s story tells us anything, it’s that perhaps if we can focus on the thing we can do, and do for those in our world who are the most vulnerable, perhaps it can make a difference.
I adore the details of this film that capture Audrey’s character and her eccentricities. I’m interested to hear more about Amber Unkle’s production design — centred around real locations rather than sets — and Sarah Maiorino’s costume design. What kind of conversations did you have with Amber and Sarah during pre-production in terms of references and the overall mood of the film?
My crew, god bless ’em, had all the disadvantages of a truly independent film; not a ton of money, no time, limited production resources. And then we also had all the advantages that come with independent film; practical locations, Sarah and her crew scouring second-hand shops for clothes, and Amber and her crew pulling pieces from their friends. They hustled like nobody’s business and have all my gratitude.
Once I spoke to Audrey and learned she’d been in a tuberculous ward, often alone, as a child — and I’m not sure I’m right about this, it was my gut instinct — that might’ve motivated her somewhat in the work that she did. She understood what it meant to be a child who was ill. She understood what it was like to be a child ill and alone. The moment in the script, which was based on Julia’s extensive research, of her and Dan putting the cards on the wall I also kept coming back to.
Tearing at the paper. Natlie Dormer (Audrey Evans) with Ami Canaan Mann.
In prep, I usually build a wall of reference photos. In this case, period photography for anyone on the crew to look at and have conversations with me or each other around. To me, there was a through-line about patterns and that found itself on the wall, as well. When you’re a child in a tough situation, you can sometimes look for something to focus on to take you out of that situation. That became the patterns of the rain on the glass. If you’re scientifically brilliant, as Audrey was, perhaps that pattern recognition becomes part of your worldview. This became the pattern in the wallpaper, her tearing the wallpaper to find another pattern beneath it. The patterns in her wardrobe, as well as us seeing patterns in wardrobe of the extras, the stained glass reflections in the hospital church, and finally the patterns of the cards on the wall which are the early designs of the staging system for neuroblastoma.
It’s one thing to have the idea, but another altogether to do the scouring, hunting and dogged determination that Sarah and Amber had to so consistently and thoughtfully execute it. And then to add and expand all of this into the very fabric of the world of the film itself. I’m so very proud of their work. My hats off to them always. And here’s to indie film, goddamnit.
What specific decisions were you and cinematographer Jon Keng making in terms of lighting and types of lenses to reinforce the story?
Jon and I tested a few lenses and I fell in love fast and hard with the Hawk anamorphic primes; specifically the 40mm which became my go-to lens choice for most of the film. The natural curve/soft focus on its perimeter and intensity in its centre felt, to me, like the character of Audrey herself. Deeply myopic. Intently focussed.
Jon is a brilliant painter of light. My habit is to set and compose my shots and camera moves, and I know what I’d like to see with light, but I don’t pretend to know how to practically create the effect. Jon and I knew we wanted great washes of light through all of the windows, but specifically the hospital. We’re fighting the hospital, which seems claustrophobic or mundane, and the idea here was to make the outside world feel present but not specific. Naturalism and natural lighting above all.
Doctors of light. Right: Dr. Dan D'Angio (Jimmi Simpson) supports Audrey as much as he can. Jon Keng's cinematography manages to reflect Audrey's positive energy, even when her patience is tested.
For me, the danger in a film with this storyline would have been for it to feel glossy and unreal. My gut was that would tip the storyline into something sappy, and once the storyline tipped into that, the audience might resent or reject the underlying message. If the world felt real, then the audience might embrace it as a real story. Jon captured that quality beautifully. I think it’s always a testament to excellent craft when what you’re seeing feels organic and almost accidental. It never is, of course. But Jon was able to make it feel effortless.
Were there any particular films that you used as references during production? I’m thinking colour palette, interior/exterior framing in particular that heightens how the shots, as you say, feel more present.
No particular influences, really, in regard to films. If anything, perhaps the almost ‘walking through milk’ use of the moving camera on House of Cards, which I’d directed an episode of and had the good fortune to have worked with the brilliant camera operator Gary Jay who passed away a few years ago. There’s a kind of heavy gliding that the show used that I wanted to try and replicate on Audrey’s Children, but with more of a pace; especially as she moves through the hospital spaces.
My biggest visual references were the overall look of Ektachrome from the ’60s and ’70s. And then as much period photography of Philly, hospitals, children, and banks I could find from both those eras.
I may be reading into this too much, but at times the film feels as though it harkens back to the British New Wave. Mainly the domesticity and sense of isolation Audrey feels. I’d even go as far as saying there are the odd moments that feel like Jack Clayton’s The Innocents — specifically the reflecting rain on the walls from the windows (through a child’s eyes) that reminds me of Freddie Francis’ cinematography.
That’s so interesting! I currently happen to be working on an adaptation of Henry James’ Turn of the Screw, actually, and maybe because I’m such a Henry James nerd I could not — please forgive me Jack Clayton! — make it through all of The Innocents… I’ll need to try again now, though!
However, the British New Wave’s hyper-naturalism and disaffection certainly, I can see that through line. Because a predominant challenge was how to seduce an audience into watching a film about children with cancer when one normally wouldn’t choose to do that on a Friday date night, my idea was to make the film as viscerally and visually resonant as possible. To sink the audience in the textures, colours, and pacing of the era and to make that feel like a place you wanted to be for an hour and a half because it was a place that felt as fully realised as possible. So, naturalism, absolutely.
A man's world. Audrey is constantly fighting the system and the men in charge.
The sense of isolation was important to the film and largely happens in silent, largely unscripted moments. The idea here for me was that there were three distinct planes or spaces Audrey moves through and almost in concentric circles, moving from exteriority to interiority; the exterior world of the city where she is a warrior (pharmaceutical company, bank, etc) the world of the hospital and children where she is a healer, and her apartment which I felt needed to be sanctum sanctorum. A place to gather herself and weep and think, so that she could step out and fight another day. She needed to be alone in this space. And then sometimes, in the darker moments, she carries that aloneness to the other two spaces. Ideally, in those moments, we feel like we recognize the private her no one else in the hospital world or Philly world has been privy to… and then, in turn, might connect us more deeply to her.
“My biggest visual references were the overall look of Ektachrome from the ’60s and ’70s.”
— Ami Canaan Mann
I love how some of the interior shots involving Audrey — specifically when reprimanded by Dr. Koop (Clancy Brown) — take on a desaturated and suffocating mood, in contrast to those brief moments of respite outdoors.
Yes, the directorial challenge here was that, on page count, there were very few scenes outside the hospital. So, the onus was to introduce Philadelphia as completely and viscerally as possible such that when you were inside, you still felt you understood there was a bustling, alive city beyond the walls and that, exactly as you say, when we’re outside the hospital, it should feel like a respite.
Between a rock and a hard place. Despite his trust in Audrey, Dr. C. Everett Koop (Clancy Brown) tries his best to manage both her ideas and the hospital.
Because I was determined for the hospital to not feel either suffocating or redundant, there were moments I tried to grab onto where — via lens choices and composition — you almost didn’t feel you were in the hospital at all. The scene where she’s reprimanded by Koop is one of the few shots in the film where I placed the camera above Natalie’s eye line such that we’re looking down on her. The room was small, so I used a wide angle in that coverage to almost curve the brick walls in on her. John blew out the windows, which was our visual lighting motif for most of the hospital rooms, and then I colour-timed the scene so it felt almost monochrome. Imposing on it a kind of ochre-yellow dominance. Whereas prior we’d been moving briskly through these halls with Audrey, ideally, that all added up to a sense that everything now feels foreign and imposing as she no longer has a kinetic facility in it.
Natalie Dormer is superb as Audrey. How did she approach the role? I’m curious how much research she took onboard to prepare as I imagine she felt as though she was taking on a huge responsibility.
Yes, absolutely agreed regarding Natalie. She is, truly, such a high-level talent. Brilliant. She is incredibly focussed on the same type of unpacking and understanding of character that I’m attracted to as a director, so it was a pleasure and a privilege to be able to work on this film with her. There have been times I’ve been accused of having an intense attention to detail and Natalie is similar in regards to the details of the character she’s building. The walk, the mannerisms — the placement of her hand just so on her hip as she steps back from the wall of cards — all of that was gleaned from her watching video footage and looking at photos. The accent and her determination to get it exactly right in regards to region, lexicon and era was born from Natalie listening to tapes of Audrey speaking. She’s an incredibly precise actress. And, I would say, also, an honourable actress. She wanted to honour the woman and knew, on some instinctive level, that maybe the best way to honour her was to render her as a fully, beautifully flawed person.
Caring nature. Audrey sees that all of her infant patients are seen to.
Were there any specific conversations between yourself and Natalie about how the different aspects of her care were handled; not just her patients’ physical needs but also how she handled their social, emotional and spiritual needs as well as supporting the families.
I think Natalie and I both have a tremendous interest and respect for children in general and perhaps an instinctual awareness of how children can sometimes be overlooked and, at worst, damaged, by the adults around them. We wanted, maybe more than anything, to platform cinematically the level of priority Audrey had for the children she worked with. It was her passion, above all else. And that meant, in practical terms, everything from bringing in animals for the kids (her suggestion to put an aviary in the children’s ward was true and eventually occurred) to the clothes she wore, the patterns in her dresses, the flower earrings, to revolutionising the staging system for neuroblastoma.
How do you feel the film best illustrates Audrey’s struggles, not just as a woman (in a man’s world) but the ideas she presented?
Audrey’s struggles are on a few different levels. She’s fighting ubiquitous bureaucracy and we see the internal politics of funding with her co-workers at various moments. She’s fighting the greed of the pharmaceutical company, and we see her knowing intuitively she’ll need to present cancer care for children to the company in a monetary/predatory capitalist paradigm in order to get their attention. She’s fighting an almost entrenched, blocking response to her presentation of her ideas in scenes with her co-workers who don’t see the vision. Dr. Dan D’Angio (Jimmi Simpson) sees the vision but becomes worried about the subtle backlash if he supports her, and Dr. Koop who also sees the vision, but feels he must contain her pursuit of it in the name of managing the system he supervises.
Audrey’s also fighting her own, sometimes misguided, instincts. Again, she’s a beautifully flawed character, as we all are. Sometimes it is too forceful, sometimes her tenacity gets the best of her… and yet she carries on, spurred by a kind of knowing that she must.
Did you set out to film in Philadelphia from the offset or was it (naturally) the only option given that Audrey worked at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia (CHOP)?
It was always going to be Philly or bust. For me, I really prefer shooting on location and shooting a city as itself. The hospital in the film was actually a defunct hospital we dressed entirely. We had the generous consultation from folks who had worked at the original CHOP, which was incredible. The new CHOP is state-of-the-art and remains one of the best children’s hospitals in the country. Audrey’s Children is such a city-specific story, it really had to be shot in Philly. Audrey’s a hometown hero and it felt important to celebrate the city that celebrated her.
I wish you all the best with Audrey’s Children, Ami, and hope it makes more and more people aware of Audrey Evans’ important work.
Thank you so much, Rich. I’m so glad it resonated. And agreed regarding Audrey. Audrey was and continues to be an inspiration.
You can find out more about Ami Canaan Mann's work — including film, TV, music, photography and new media — via her Instagram and over on her official site. Audrey’s Children opens in theaters starting March 28. Tickets/Theaters are available by visiting audreyschildren.com.
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