
“More than a film
but a platform for healing—
Through ongoing community involvement &
open conversations around Generational Trauma.”
Feature Film | Directorial Debut
Indie Drama, 1 hour 45 minutes
Summary
Two runaway sisters try to live with the ghost of their past, until one finally confronts their toxic reality, in order to heal.
Synopsis
Set in the 90s, in a blue-collar town, And Then There Were Four follows runaway sisters Peach and Penny, who’ve spent years trying to escape the ghost of their past. Peach, a tomboy mechanic still grieving the sudden death of her husband Sam, struggles to raise her seven-year-old son, Jake. Penny, a waitress and romantic idealist, lives in denial, clinging to memories of a childhood that never really was. She has a three-year-old, Lily, who comes from a toxic relationship. Together, they raise their kids in a fragile peace, dreaming of a better life—until a phone call from their estranged mother, Emily, shatters the illusion. As Emily shares news of their father’s death, it’s revealed Penny has secretly been in contact with her. Betrayed and overwhelmed, Peach spirals–breaking two years of sobriety. In a blackout confession, she reveals the painful nature of their father’s abuse to Lily.
When Lily repeats bits and pieces, the household unravels. Meanwhile, Eliott, a boy passing through town, is hired by Ray (Indigenous, Peach’s boss, Sam’s dad). Both witness Peach’s emotional unraveling. One night, after drinking, Peach finds Penny beaten after an argument with her ex, Josh. At the hospital, Peach gets into an inebriated argument with the staff—and winds up in jail for the night. Exhausted, Peach finally confronts her sister and discovers Penny’s been keeping an even bigger secret: the son Peach thought she lost when she was seventeen was not stillborn–but put up for adoption by their parents. In a moment of blind rage, Peach lashes out—and their children witness the violence.
The cycle they tried to escape has been repeated. Lies have led nowhere. They’re hurting their kids. They have to change. As the sisters move forward in truth, Eliott reveals the real reason he’s come to town. He’s been looking for his birth mother, ever since Penny reached out to his parents, months ago. With the past finally laid to rest, a broken family begins to heal—and finds the courage to choose a different future.

Creative Team
Director's Vision
Raw. Nostalgic. Personal.
Lara Binamé
Director, Screenwriter, Exec. Producer
Intentions: Some of us know what it’s like to grow up shape-shifting for survival, only to wake up as adults—without a map back to ourselves. This film is the cathartic expression and conclusion of an inner voyage, put to paper. An ode to my admiration to the strength and resilience of those I love. My hope is for it to help heal people who have (or are struggling) with similar issues.
Genre: A gritty, emotionally charged drama with elements of psychological suspense and ghostlike memory. Though grounded in realism, it’s infused with lyrical undercurrents. I wasnt to allow for the unsaid, the uncomfortable, the deeply human to surface. Indeed, indie films are often mythic in their emotional truth and allow for silences to speak with unflinching honesty.
Mood: Visceral, lived-in—where memory and present reality sometimes blur. The visual language is both intimate and immersive, having the mobility and flexibility of a steadycam gimbal–a camera that moves gently through space–capturing moments with the fluidity of memory and the immediacy of the now. It’s not invasive, but observant—inviting the viewer to breathe inside the world, alongside the characters.
The lighting is warm, soft and as natural as possible. Sunlight through old curtains. The muted glow of a bedside lamp—to bring life’s nuance and tenderness to even the hardest scenes. Using color transitions throughout, starting off with gentle, welcoming tones, moving into more muted and darker hues (greens and blues) as the story unravels—matching the character’s emotional arcs.
The musical world, shaped by Miranda Mulholland, is rooted in a raw and haunting string-driven celtic score, woven with ambient tones and subtle folk textures that highlight each character’s essence. I.e. character themes. It feels handmade, emotionally textured—never pushing but always guiding. Together, the sound, image, and rhythm create a quiet intensity—a space that holds grief, beauty, ache and hope.
Acting: Understanding and relating to the story is more important to me than learning lines. Yes, the script is the backbone–and we will shoot it as it’s written–but to me, improv and the actor's personal intuitive contributions are irreplaceable. Much like an exploratory class, these are the rare moments where artists are able to surprise themselves—through pure presence and their truth. Humanity, unfiltered. Imagine, a musician, who knows the whole partition, and who is given a surprise chance to shine in a moment that belongs to them, with a solo act. The only rules are: Follow the theme, the music and the energy, but make it yours. That’s what I want to achieve.
Edit: Mirroring the emotional landscape of the film, the edit will be spacious when we need to breathe with the characters, allowing their inner worlds to unfold in real time. As well as rhythmic in emotionally charged or transitional moments—where movement, sound, and feeling collide. It resists sensationalism, leaning instead into restraint and emotional truth—trusting the audience to absorb the weight of what’s left unsaid. The pacing is guided by feeling rather than formula, with transitions often shaped by the logic of memory and trauma rather than strict continuity. It holds close to the actors, honoring flickers of emotion, building intimacy without intrusion. This is an edit that invites recognition—not spectacle—crafted with care to meet the story’s raw honesty and my instinct to hold that truth with integrity.
SCRIPT SAMPLE
pay it forward.