A Woman’s Work (A.R. Ephrain, 2026) US

Reviewed by Mason Masciangelo. Viewed at the SBIFF McHurley Film Center, Santa Barbara.

A Woman’s Work, is directed by A.R. Ephrain, and is her first feature length film. In the filmmaker seminar “Beyond the Studio System” she spoke very matter of factly to the film’s funding process- explaining how her friend introduced her to someone, they went to breakfast, and agreed to fund the film without even reading the script- simply as a tax deductible donation. She joked for upcoming filmmakers to “go that route” if they could, and how it was necessary for the film to be created as she had no connections in the industry. The location of the short 18 day shoot was also a result of financial incentive as the state of Kentucky encourages film production done in the state with a 35% refundable tax credit for qualified productions. She also gave some potential financial advice for filmmakers to not spend a dime until the entire budget is secured to avoid running out of money and not being able to provide those investors anything.

Definitely an interesting mix of film as an artform for passion’s sake- that tells important vulnerable human stories- and the irony of this film only being possible because of something as anti human as a rich person navigating taxes.

A Woman’s Work gives viewers an authentic and dignified look into the hard lives of  people who work in the coal mines of the Appalachian hills. The film opens with these beautiful, serenely still, wide shots, from way up in the mountains, looking down at the millions of trees that coat the hills. This beauty is then juxtaposed with the decaying small homes that reside amongst the trees, as we get a glimpse into the small town. The film centers around Jo, a hard working woman, who has to provide for her two younger sisters after losing their parents to the opioid epidemic. In order to provide, she works hard labor in the coal mines- a very dangerous job with horrible long term health risks and the impending risk of a collapse everyday. She makes sure to pack enough food for a few days every time she goes to work- never sure if it will be the last time she sees her sisters as she heads out the door. After work, there are recurring sequences of her washing off the coal in the sink or in the shower. She goes to the bar to blow off steam, drinking and smoking alone, looking at other couples- but it turns out she’s got a secret girlfriend. They confide in each other and talk about the future, dreaming of moving to New York, but in the end, Jo has to choose between her responsibilities and her heart’s desires. 

A key part of this film explores the dynamic of being gay/lesbian in the South where it is not widely accepted, let alone embraced. Jo experiences homophobia from her own family when her aunt threatens to take her sisters away from her simply because she has a girlfriend. This instance encapsulates another recurring motif- the irony of religious people that act holier than thou but are objectively way worse, more hateful people than the one doing the “sinning”, who are literally doing the opposite- finding and experiencing love and being there for one another. Despite all these challenges, somehow, Jo’s story is one of hope and inspiration.

The environment, like the nature, is beautiful, but the environmental factors of living there are so depressing- the mental toll of being in an endless cycle of poverty, combined with the grueling hours of hard labor and physical pain that result from it- inevitably leading to these hard working people being prescribed opiates, and being hooked on them because 1. they’re highly addictive, and 2. it’s the only escape and peace they can temporarily attain in their demanding lives. This then leads to addiction which detaches them from their family, as they completely change the person they used to be, and then they overdose and die… Now their kids are even more screwed financially- not to mention, grieving heavily– and they still have to navigate through life with the same horrible environmental/societal factors that lead to their parents death. It makes sense how the horrific cycle could be passed down amidst the depression of losing loved ones and having increasingly less hope for the future.

When you zoom out and imagine this on a wide scale- it is absolutely heartbreaking and I’ve had to pull myself together multiple times to get through this paragraph. The opioid crisis’ impact can be plainly seen in the mise-en-scene of the town, (which is just the town as it was, nothing altered)- homes of families that tragically lost their providers and parents- leading to vegetative overgrowth and a general lack of upkeep on property. At first glance, maybe you’d chalk them up to be deadbeats or just lazy people who don’t take care of their homes, but the more you understand their reality, the more haunting each of those little decaying homefronts is because each one signifies a family that has fallen apart. I guess my initial judgments when seeing the homes is an indicator of how people judge before we understand, and how stereotypes can keep our perspective narrow, preventing us from empathizing and understanding a life that is different from our own.

For me, the biggest take away was that this film really helps to humanize the victims of the opioid crisis instead of them being statistics on the news portrayed as “dead junkies” and it allows the viewers to empathize with and understand why the cycle is so vicious. Despite how much attention I’ve given to this one aspect of the film, it wouldn’t be as impactful without all the other pieces of the puzzle. The story of these characters’ lives makes for a more impactful and dignified picture of a lifestyle and community that I have not encountered or been exposed to- so I am grateful and appreciative for the insight this film has provided.