Finise Avery

Living With Grandma is a heartfelt dramedy that I co-wrote, directed, and produced. The story began with a piece of real-life experience shared by my childhood friend, Louis Cangiano. Together with my co-writer, Luisa Oparanozie, we expanded that idea into a fictionalized narrative that explores addiction recovery, generational relationships, and the way humor helps us navigate difficult times.

My goal was to create something that feels both intimate and universal — a story that reflects personal truths while allowing audiences to connect through shared struggles and moments of laughter.

My vision was to balance emotional honesty with comedic relief — capturing the messy, awkward, and tender moments that come with family and healing. I approached the project with a naturalistic visual style, using warm, grounded cinematography and lived-in set design to immerse the audience in the characters’ world. Every choice, from blocking to pacing, was designed to make the film feel like you were right there with them.

Most importantly, I didn’t want to tell the audience how to feel; I wanted them to experience the emotions organically through the performances and visuals. That way, the story resonates on a personal level, rather than being prescribed.

On Living With Grandma, I wore many hats as co-writer, director, and producer. That gave me a unique perspective — as a director, I knew exactly what creative elements I wanted to protect, and as a producer, I understood which things could be streamlined or cut from a financial standpoint without compromising the story.

Working with Luisa Oparanozie, we refined the script so every scene served the emotional arc. My cinematographer and I built a visual language rooted in intimacy and authenticity, while the team as a whole found ways to balance vision with logistics. That trust and teamwork allowed us to stay efficient without losing the heart of the film.

Filming in New York City is always a challenge it’s fast-paced, unpredictable, and often requires a fair amount of “stealing shots.” On top of that, we had a very tight shooting schedule, which made it essential to stay efficient without losing the creative spark.

What made it work was preparation and trust. We held efficient rehearsals before shoot days so that once we were on set, the focus was purely on performance. I was also incredibly fortunate with the cast I chose they were deeply professional, fully committed, and brought a real depth to their characters. Their dedication allowed us to capture authentic, layered performances despite the constraints.

One of the scenes I am most proud of is the opening in the Gamblers Anonymous meeting. Louie walks in reluctantly, and Grandma Rose follows right behind him, immediately making her presence known. She drags a chair across the floor, interrupting another member mid-share, and then settles in beside her grandson. When she leans over and whispers, “You’re a gambler,” the entire room and audience instantly understand the humor and tension in their relationship.

What makes this scene even more memorable is the way Grandma Rose addresses the group directly, declaring, “There’ll be no 12-stepping my grandson.” That mix of comedy, love, and stubborn protectiveness sets the tone for the whole film. Returning to that same meeting at the end brought the story full circle and gave the short its sense of closure. On set, the chemistry between the actors and the energy in that room told me we had captured something real and special.

Honestly, I don’t think I would change anything. Every challenge and constraint taught me something valuable, and if the process had been different, I might not have learned those lessons in the same way. We managed to get everything we needed within the time we had, and I am grateful for how the cast and crew showed up with such professionalism and heart.

The biggest takeaway for me is that filmmaking is as much about adaptability and teamwork as it is about vision. That balance is what makes the final result feel so rewarding.

Aside from Living With Grandma, I’m proud of Crunch, a commercial I co-directed and produced for the Musicbed Challenge. It’s completely different in tone a darkly comedic twist on a death row inmate’s last meal  but it reminded me that I can bring my voice into any genre. That versatility is something I value deeply as a filmmaker.

Tell the stories only you can tell. Don’t wait for permission make something with whatever resources you have right now. Build relationships based on mutual respect and collaboration, because filmmaking is never a solo effort. And most importantly, trust your instincts while staying open to learning from others.

I focused on creating a safe, trust-filled environment where the actors felt empowered to take risks and explore. Having worked with them before in another capacity, we already had a strong foundation of trust and communication, which carried directly onto set.

I encouraged the actors to ad-lib and bring their own instincts into the roles, allowing them to express what they thought their characters might say or do in a given moment. That freedom, combined with our deep character discussions beforehand, helped the performances feel authentic and alive. I believe having that strong relationship in place beforehand made all the difference in capturing those truthful, layered moments.

Sound was essential in grounding the audience in the reality of the story. One moment that stands out is the chair falling in the GA meeting, which set the comedic tone right away. Small but intentional choices like that helped bring humor to life and gave weight to the performances.

I was fortunate to work with Sound Designer Joseph Hellow and composer Ian McGregor Smith, who collaborated beautifully to make the film sing. Comedy is especially tricky, and sound is what helps the audience lock into those comedic beats. Joseph’s design gave the film texture and timing, while Ian’s score supported the emotional flow without ever overwhelming it. Together, their work created the balance of humor and heart that defines Living With Grandma.

I see feedback as a gift, even though I also recognize that it is often opinion-based and filtered through a creative lens. During editing, we held a small test screening with trusted peers, and their insights helped clarify pacing in a couple of scenes. That led to subtle trims that ultimately made the film stronger without compromising the vision.

For me, collaboration means staying open to perspectives that reveal blind spots while still trusting my instincts as a filmmaker. The balance is knowing when to lean into the notes and when to hold onto the core of the story.