FULL CIRCLE
A surprise guest arrives at a small support group for ex-believers, leading to an intense and transformative discussion.
PRODUCTION
HANDBOOK
DEVELOPMENT
It started with a single image: an empty chair under a flickering gym light, surrounded by people who had once believed in something greater, but no longer did. From that moment, the story began to take shape as a modern parable exploring doubt, faith, and the conversations we often avoid.
Inspired by the emotional weight of support groups and the unresolved tension between belief and skepticism, the script was written using the “And, But, Therefore” (ABT) structure. Every character was shaped with care, each representing a facet of the human relationship with faith: bitterness, intellect, silence, and restoration.
We wanted to ask questions, not answer them.
MOODBOARD
PRE-
PRODUCTION
With the script in hand, we entered the planning phase. Locations were scouted with a specific atmosphere in mind—a gymnasium that felt abandoned but sacred, echoing with memory. Every detail mattered: how the chairs were arranged, how the lighting would cast shadows, and even how silence would be used as its own form of dialogue.
Casting was intentional. We searched for actors who could carry internal conflict in stillness, who didn’t need a monologue to show the weight of their characters’ journeys. Moodboards were developed, a shot list was built around slow pushes, wide frames, and isolated close-ups, and the sound design was imagined before the first take.
SCRIPT
PRODUCTION
Shot in one day, the set was kept minimal and immersive to reflect the script’s intimacy. The gym became a character in itself—walls that seemed to listen, lights that flickered at the perfect time, and silence that spoke volumes.
We embraced natural performances and organic pacing, allowing actors to sit in the quiet between lines. Dialogue was filmed with intention, anchored in long takes and reactive shots, focusing not just on what was said, but what was felt. John’s limp, Emily’s tapping pen, Stephen’s silences—all were crafted in performance and captured in frame.
ON SET
POST
PRODUCTION
The edit focused on pacing and breath—how long to hold a look, when to let silence linger, and when to cut. Color grading leaned into muted tones, cold whites, and flickers of warmth, evoking both stark reality and spiritual unease. The sound design was layered with creaks, ambient hums, and moments of deliberate quiet, allowing space for the audience to reflect.
Music was kept minimal, if used at all—because in The Empty Chair, sometimes the absence of sound says more than a score ever could.