Two estranged siblings must part with the house that holds their shared past.

Director’s Vision for ‘Turpentine

“I watch you grow away from me in photographs

And memories like spies

And salt betrays my eyes again

I started losing sleep and gaining weight

And wishing I was was ten again

So I could be your friend again” -Brandli Carlie’s song “Turpentine”

 

Childhood follows you around like an imaginary friend. As we grow older, our memories become more distant, but they are always in the background, like an undertone to every moment. The smell of a homemade cherry pie brings you back to your grandmother’s kitchen. A grass stain on your knees reminds you of playing in the backyard with your brother. The song “American Pie” brings back memories of driving around the neighborhood’s backroads with your dad. LED Christmas lights transport you to decorating the living room with your mom.

 

We wanted to make every detail of the home feel like a character. At the beginning of the film, the siblings’ memories are distant, lingering in the background. They’re present, but not fully alive. The creak of the floorboards plays a melody of history. Some picture frames are put away, leaving empty, hollow spaces on the wall-left behind but not forgotten. Stains on the carpet mark the spot where James’ science project went wrong. Rusted pots and pans bear the marks of long-ago laughter and communion.

 

As James and Abigail become more honest with one another, as they forgive each other, the memories of the house begin to come back. In a flashback, we journey with them as they relive their childhood. Every inch of the house bursts with life. Music and laughter begin to fill every empty space. Reflecting on childhood, it’s often not just specific memories but a blend of feelings. It’s the warmth of your grandparents’ hugs, cousins running around with sparklers on the 4th of July, playful shouts during game nights, and Easter egg hunts. It’s the feeling that, somehow, everything is alright. James and Abigail find reconciliation through this—by reconnecting with their past friendship that endures. We captured this pivotal moment of reconciliation in an unbroken shot, seamlessly transitioning through different moments of their childhood. It’s the point where egos fade, and the overwhelming glory of forgiveness takes hold. Despite the loss of their parents and the challenge of packing up their childhood home, they can still lean on each other. For us, as siblings who work together, we believe that the bond of family is one of life’s most precious treasures.

 

What makes a house a home? It’s the love that was shared, the love that filled the walls. Last year, we lost our home to a fire. Our childhood and all of the things we knew in the house were lost to the fire. The strangest part was that we never got to say a proper goodbye. As we cleaned up, we found baby shoes falling apart, burnt photo albums of a great grandmother we never met, books filled with ash that we used to read before bed, and toys that were now unrecognizable. We were literally and emotionally picking up pieces of our past, remembering every moment, without ever having the chance to say goodbye.

 

With “Turpentine,” we finally got to say goodbye. As Abigail and James packed up their childhood home, it felt like we were packing up ours. The film had a different weight to it.

 

Every moment of the film, especially the flashback, were specific memories to our childhood. From the dolls that Abigail and James played with, to the Easter egg game the family plays, to actually casting our real-life grandparents and more. We are grateful that creating a film allows us to recreate our childhood home and old memories.

 

If we could retrace our steps in our childhood home just one more time, we’d linger longer. What if we got to play with our dolls one more time? What if we got to run around the house playing tag, again? What if we got to hear our dad play guitar in our living room another time? What if we got to see our grandparents sit in their favorite chairs by the fireplace once more?

 

Now, with the gift of filmmaking, with “Turpentine” we can. What a gift. The memories and love are one thing that cannot be taken away, and we will hold onto forever through “Turpentine.”