Audrey’s Children sheds light on the legacy of a woman ahead of her time. Dr. Audrey Evans, a pioneering physician in pediatric oncology, left an indelible mark on millions. Filmed on location in Philadelphia, where Dr. Evans’ revolutionary work unfolded, the film chronicles 1969 Philadelphia, where Audrey (Natalie Dormer) fights against the medical conventions of the day while navigating the challenges of a male-dominated field. Directed by Ami Canaan Mann (Texas Killing Fields, Jackie & Ryan), the film invites audiences into the enduring impact of Audrey’s story.
Alongside the film’s release, a campaign to highlight the “Audreys of today” celebrates the modern-day trailblazers and unsung heroines of modern medicine, who continue to push the boundaries in healthcare. In addition to receiving audience award honors from the Philadelphia Film Festival, the theatrical tribute also led to the festival’s newly minted Audrey Evans Humanitarian Award, ensuring a continued awareness of Audrey’s story.
In theaters nationwide on March 28th from Blue Harbour Entertainment, Audrey’s Children arrives in honor of the late Dr. Evans’ 100th birthday. As the Women’s History Month release opens in theaters, Boxoffice Pro connected with director Ami Canaan Mann to reflect on a woman who cared and her efforts to keep families close.
Beyond the great respect for Audrey and her story, there’s so much authenticity and specificity in your work. Shooting entirely on location in Philly, where the story happened, your prep must have been very important.
I love filming on location. I much prefer it to being on a stage. There’s a kind of X-factor to a real place. I really love the process of location scouting and the process of then shaping the location to what you need for that moment in the story. As you say, specificity and authenticity were absolutely the mandates and were absolutely key. It’s an independent film, so we had six weeks to prepare. Hats off to my crew for being able to pull that off with me.
Real heroes are not infallible. There’s a strength and tenacity to Audrey, but also a vulnerability. You haven’t put her on a pedestal; she is relatable, and you feel the weight of what she’s doing.
Essentially it’s a biopic, but in my mind it was also a character study about somebody who was flawed. She gets in her own way sometimes. She becomes her own worst enemy. In that way, she’s incredibly human. I felt if we could lean into that, then she would be relatable, and if she’s relatable, then we can see ourselves in her, and if we can see ourselves in her, then maybe what she’s showing us can [also help make a difference.]
The world was chaotic and felt like it was disassembling in 1969, and it feels that way now—I would argue maybe even a little bit more so. It’s easy to feel defeated and to feel like we have these massive things we cannot even conceive of how to fix. How can we shift it? The lesson I took away from Audrey and her story, and in helping to tell her story, was if there’s a way to focus on what you can do and put that focus on the most vulnerable in our care and purview, maybe that can make a little bit of difference. Maybe that will make the change we need—if we are attempting to do that.
It’s remarkable to think about her story, every person that she’s touched, and their stories—the ripple effect of that. Having an asset on your team like writer/producer Julia Fisher Farbman, who knew Audrey so well, what collaborative insights did that provide the project?
Julia had known Audrey since Julia was a little girl. I think her grandfather was close to Audrey, and then Julia was close to Audrey as a friend. It was evident in some of the key scenes of the screenplay. It was great to have insight into her as just a woman walking through the world. To know that there was somebody who had that kind of touchstone, we could always refer to that. It was a point of veracity, I suppose. ‘Does this feel like something she would do?’ I met her twice, so she was a person to me, but even so, she’s still an incredibly impressive person. It kept us grounded and rooted. Even hearing stories about her that had nothing to do with the film. She’s a woman, and she’s been in circumstances that are tough, and she’s trying to do her best, like we all are.
Audrey was a light, and you worked with your cinematographer Jon Keng to tell the story with the power of light and with your lens choices. There’s a strong focus in the center of the frame and often light emitting from behind her.
I come from a photography background, so I’m a pretty camera-heavy director. Although it’s funny, I always say, as a director, you never really get to see how other directors direct, because we don’t hang out and watch each other direct. I compose and I choose lenses, but I don’t pretend to know how to light. I know how I want to feel, I know how I want it to vibe, and I know what the narrative wants the light to do, which was definitely a part of Audrey’s Children. The amazing thing about working with Jon is he really can paint with light. I would say, “This is the lens, this is the shot, this is the composition, and it kind of needs to feel like this.”
Conversations that we had early on were [about] one of the challenges narratively for the film. Page count-wise, we spend a lot of time in the hospital, which could have the danger of feeling very claustrophobic, redundant, or monotonous. Early on and every time we were outside, I wanted to establish Philadelphia and the world outside as viscerally as possible so that even when you were inside, you could feel it beyond the walls. That informed how to deal with the windows. Though you couldn’t literally see out the windows if light was coming in, it was a point of visual connectivity from the interior of the hospital to the outside world. That was what informed the backlight too. There are moments when the backlight becomes oppressive by design, and there are moments when it’s a little bit more subtle by design.
In terms of filming, because you were working with children, how did you approach allowing them to play and capture the unexpected moments that children often bring?
They say, “Don’t work with kids and animals,” but I would work with them every time; I think they’re great. They’re just forthright and honest and present. If you provide for them, with the crew and the rest of the cast, a safe space on set, you’ll get lightning in a bottle. That’s my experience, and that absolutely happened here. It was one of those sets where, even if you weren’t in the shot, people kind of hung out anyway. Also, you have to have an actress who’s able to do that, and Natalie’s just an amazing empath and also really connects with kids. A lot of the scenes with the children and her are improvisational; dialogue that just happened.
My job as a director was to try to create that safe space for them and also be incredibly well-planned and thorough in my camera positions, which I try to do anyway. I try to show up with a plan. It may not end up being the plan, but it’s a plan. There’ll never be a moment not knowing where the three cameras are going. If I saw something happening, I felt free to run over and grab it because I wasn’t worried about, ‘Am I going to get my coverage?’ I’m very clear on the coverage that I need to get. It was a kind of perfect melding of the ability to be facile, which has to do with my incredible crew and the incredible Natalie, and then having these incredible kids.
We all have something driving us, and you’ve taken truths from Audrey’s story and implemented visual cues—having tuberculosis as a child and being isolated, for example.
I was sitting in her apartment with Julia, and she told this story. I said to Julia as we were leaving, “Did you know about that story?” She’s like, “No.” I was like, “That’s it. That’s the thing.” No matter what we do, I think we have a thing that we’re carrying around with us that we want to try to fix, repair, and make better. Whether we’re a car mechanic or a school teacher or a pediatric oncologist. We’re motivated by an incredible empathy that we have for other people who are also in that position. We wouldn’t want anyone to be in that position, so we want to solve it—seeing if we can shift the world so they don’t have to move through that difficulty in the same way.
Your color palette highlights that by supporting the narrative. Like in the moment where you bring in a primary red.
The color palette was an important part of it, absolutely. The mandate was Ektachrome, which means deeply saturated colors and no primary colors. Even if you don’t remember Ektachrome from the 60s, I felt like if it was consistent enough, you might feel like you were imbued in it. Like you were going down a river of the color of Ektachrome. There are no whites, no blacks, no grays. And then, as you say, a really judicious use of red. I wanted that one key red dress moment where she is standing on the staircase, and there are men from the bank coming down opposite her. She’s against the stream. She’s rising up. She’s this point of red in this slate gray, brutalist bank; she’s going to fight.
You shot over two years ago, but the timing of this release is kind of perfect with Women’s History Month and this being a story about a woman that’s written, directed, produced, and created by women. What’s this journey been like for you?
At the time, in 2024, I was like, “The movie should be out already.” But now, I really feel like it’s the perfect timing. It’s a story about a woman made by women, as well as supporting men. Natalie, Julia, and I are definitely a strong troika. We had a real consistency and shared focus on why we were all here to tell this story at this moment. I don’t know if that has anything to do with gender, maybe insofar as we can relate to some of the circumstances that Audrey found herself in. I tried to imbue that subtly in non-verbal and non-scripted ways.
It’s also good timing because it’s a movie about science and about medicine and research. Here’s a woman who came to the United States because the United States was and is at the forefront of funded medical research. She was working in an oeuvre that was—and still is—chronically underfunded, which is research for childhood cancer. For some reason, it’s the least funded research.
She came to this country in order to be herself and a revolutionary in the medical field. What a great, incredible tradition. We stand on the shoulders of giants. With what’s going on in the world right now, the shifting circumstances having to do with funding, there could not be a better time to be reminded that this is what we do here. We are the place that people come to in order to do the kind of work that will save millions of lives in the end, exponentially.
Stories open audiences up to healing and can inspire people to make their own difference in the world. In a sea of distractions, the theatrical experience is key for that. What have your experiences been like with audiences so far?
I’m a director that loves a test screening. I can’t really get a sense of what I’ve done unless I can be in the theater and feel that the audience is responsive. Our very first test screening was really positive across the board, across age and across gender. It scored really well with men in their 50s and 60s. It’s been really positive in that sense. People have come to me and told me, and I know they’ve told Julia and Natalie too, that it has touched them in their own personal lives, either because they have had these experiences directly or sometimes with Audrey herself. We are flawed, we are human, and we are trying. We don’t always succeed. The world seems rife with big issues, but what can we do? That seems, at least from the feedback that we seem to be getting, to be resonating, which is really beautiful and a huge compliment.
From growing up in Indiana to attending USC, what were some of your foundational moviegoing experiences?
There weren’t a lot of theaters, so I didn’t go to the movies a lot. I think that a foundational experience would have been Grease, which played at the Tippecanoe County Mall. I went to see it a lot with my friends and loved it. I was obsessed. When I was a teenager, I saw Tony Scott’s The Hunger. I was a huge David Bowie fan. I didn’t really grow up as a film fan. I grew up with my mother, and we didn’t have a ton of money, but she always carried her library around with her. So for me, it was books, and I played the viola, and I did a lot of photography.
When I came to USC, I was completely uncynical about it. I was like a kid in a candy store with that library. In a weird way, I guess everything becomes foundational for me, because although I know a lot more about film now than when I was a teen, I’m always in awe. It translates to being a director too. Every time I walk onto set, I think to myself, ‘My God, how fortunate am I to be on this set with these cameras and the grips and the electricians and craft services. Here we are, going to gather to make something that has no basis in reality, but if we do it correctly and deftly, maybe we can catch a little bit of magic, and maybe somebody will see that and it will touch them.’ What a great privilege to be helping that event possibly occur.
It may be the greatest collaborative art form because everyone’s bringing their own experience to it. That’s where the magic happens.
I think you’re absolutely right. I was actually just writing something about how there is no neutral lens; there is no objective camera position. Everybody brings all their experiences to the set, and definitely directors. That’s how we inform, literally, the point of view of the movie, which is really no different than Audrey, right? Audrey was bringing her life into the work that she did, and it informed her approach and how she was able to do the work.
Audrey was a mentor and influence to so many. In your own life, do you have any mentors that have influenced or inspired you?
I have a lot of great people in my life who have mentored me, whether they know it or not. Sometimes you watch people do something and think, ‘That’s the way to walk through the world. That’s something to know’. I would say my son, who is incredible. In terms of film, I think my first really important mentor was Robert Redford. I had the great good fortune of being an intern assistant on A River Runs Through It, and Robert Redford just kind of let me follow him. I was carrying around the video assist camera equipment and just kind of being a PA in the office. At that time, you would see dailies at the end of the day with the crew. I got to see dailies. I went to rehearsals. I shadowed—and literally was a shadow—trying not to be imposing and just watching him talk to the production designer and the DP.
To me specifically, he was just incredibly generous to allow that kind of access. Watching him design an incredible film and then watching other directors design incredible films and seeing that there is no ‘right way’ was massive. So I guess it’s a cumulative mentorship: the trick is to really find your way, and that way, whatever that is, needs to be unique and authentic and true to you. Whether you compose shots or you talk to actors, whatever it is. As long as it’s authentic to you, it’ll be the right way, and you’ll tell your stories the way that you need to.
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