Requiem examines several days in the lives of two girls, Lillian and Edith, who live in isolation with their father. Since his wife died in childbirth, the father ritually beats the girls. But with the beginning of menstruation, Lillian must confront the veracity of her transgressions, and risk losing the only life and love she’s ever known.
In nearly all of my work, I explore the way that people cope with death or dying. Religion is merely one way of trying to make sense of this inviolable law of existence. In the case of this film, the father’s need to validate his wife’s death only perpetuates his own suffering and that of his children. For Lillian, however, death is simply a form of mercy, from suffering, rather than a cause of it.
My intention remains the same: I want to tell a good story, and that means arousing our deepest anxieties and convictions, coaxing them out, examining them through characters who are neither all good nor all bad. In these stories, people strive for self-knowledge. They learn to accept their smallness in the grandness of the world. They discover ways to live meaningfully in light of that honesty. Their ability or inability to do so will determine their actions toward others, and in turn, their moral measure.