Stolen Scripts, Shattered Life
built me a private editing suite, a sleek, soundproofed room where I could lose mysel
he' d say, kissing my
character I brought to life. He was my biggest fan, my only audience. I was so safe, so loved, and so completely isolated. He'
ieved
Sundance Film Festival, a place I hadn't dared to think about in years. The photo wa
r, Sabrina Lawrence, stood in
ey were describi
key scene where she confronts her estranged father in a dust storm. It was all there, ripped directl
and started to shake. I
and. His arm was wrapped tightly around Sabrina Lawrence's waist, his head
or a production crunch. He