
For producer Rebecca Lafon, filmmaking has never been about spectacle alone; it has always been about people. Whether she’s helping bring a queer coming-of-age story to life, navigating the logistical complexities of an ambitious period piece, or developing genre projects that tackle difficult emotional realities, Lafon’s work is guided by a belief that stories have the power to deepen empathy and foster meaningful human connection.
That philosophy found a natural home in Venice Days, the upcoming feature from writer-director Bradley Stryker that is currently in post-production. Set against the eclectic backdrop of Venice Beach, the nonprofit drama explores grief, fatherhood, recovery, and the difficult process of rebuilding a life after loss. Starring Sarah Drew (Grey’s Anatomy), Noel Fisher (Shameless), Courtney Ford (Dexter, Legends of Tomorrow), and famed veteran character actor Clint Howard, this film combines intimate character work with a broader sense of community responsibility.
Lafon served as co-producer on the project which presented her with an opportunity to participate in a story aligned closely with her own understanding of what film can accomplish when it is at its best. “Stories are one of the most direct routes we have to empathy,” Rebecca states. “The films that have mattered most to me are the ones that put me in close proximity to an experience I hadn’t lived and made me feel it from the inside.” That conviction became especially meaningful on Venice Days, a production whose mission extended beyond filmmaking itself. Proceeds from the film support local LA charities aiding individuals impacted by the devastating Los Angeles fires, unhoused communities, and families in need, giving the project a tangible connection to the Venice community it portrays
A Story That Could Only Exist in Venice
While many films use locations as visual decoration, Venice Days treats Venice Beach as an active participant in the story. Rebecca recognized this distinction immediately. “Venice Beach is one of those places that does a great deal of the storytelling on its own,” she says. To outsiders, Venice is often reduced to its most recognizable images: street performers, skateboarders, artists, musicians, tourists, and the famously eccentric energy of the boardwalk but spending significant time there reveals something deeper. “If you go regularly, you start recognizing people,” interjects Lafon. “The shop owners. The morning runners. The people who play music every day from speakers mounted on skateboards. They feel like part of the scenery at first, but they’re not. They’re people with histories, relationships, and a real connection to that place.” That sense of belonging, even among people who exist outside traditional social structures, became central to the film’s emotional landscape. For a story about a father attempting to rebuild himself for the sake of his son, Venice offered more than visual character. “It says something about who this man is that he ended up here rather than somewhere else,” Rebecca explains. “He’s trying to create a life in a place that has historically been a refuge for people living outside conventional expectations.”
The production’s relationship with the community reflected that same spirit. Unlike many large-scale shoots, Venice Days filmed directly on the boardwalk without shutting it down. “We didn’t close Venice off from the people who live there,” Lafon specifies. “We worked around them, and they worked around us.” The experience left a lasting impression. “They were incredibly respectful of what we were doing. They didn’t interrupt shots. They didn’t create distractions. They just continued living their lives while we did our work. There was a kind of mutual respect there that felt very representative of the community itself.”
Why Stories Matter
Hollywood is frequently portrayed as an industry driven by fame, celebrity, and financial success. Lafon does not dismiss those realities, but they have never been the reason she entered filmmaking. Instead, her motivation traces back to a fascination with people and the ways they understand one another. Looking back, she sees a direct connection between filmmaking and her academic background studying political science. “My fascination was always with how people think,” she says. “What makes them feel united. How they arrive at their decisions. How those decisions affect entire communities.” Film became a natural extension of those questions. “Empathy is one of the few things that can fundamentally shift how a person sees the world.” That idea sits at the center of Rebecca’s producing philosophy. She gravitates toward stories that resist simplification and refuse to flatten human beings into archetypes. “The world is full of narratives that reduce people to types,” she says. “Film, at its best, does the opposite. It insists on complexity.” In Venice Days, that complexity emerges through the specificity of its characters. “It’s not a story about a father as a symbol,” Lafon says. “It’s about this father. This son. This specific relationship.” The distinction matters. By focusing on individuals rather than abstractions, the film invites audiences to engage with grief, recovery, and love not as concepts but as lived experiences.
A Global Perspective on Storytelling
Part of Lafon’s sensitivity to different perspectives stems from her own unconventional upbringing. Born in France, she spent part of her childhood living among the cornfields of rural Indiana before returning to Europe and attending an international school outside Paris. The experience exposed her to dramatically different cultures during formative years. “There were fourteen languages in the hallways on any given day,” she recalls. The result was a worldview defined by curiosity. “It made the world feel larger and more varied than it otherwise might have.” Growing up in France also shaped her understanding of art itself. “France treats culture as a necessity rather than simply entertainment,” she says. Yet she also found herself drawn toward the uniquely American spirit of ambition. “There is a competitive drive in the United States that pushes you to prove your ideas and challenge yourself.” That combination eventually led her back across the Atlantic. After studying political science and theater at Middlebury College, she made a short film during her final month as a student. The experience was transformative. “I knew almost immediately where I wanted to be.” Soon afterward, she enrolled at the AFI Conservatory in Los Angeles. “Hollywood is where so many of us who can’t stop chasing something tend to end up,” she says.
Looking Ahead: Charrette
While Venice Days continues through post-production, Lafon’s slate of upcoming projects reflects her growing reputation for championing stories that combine emotional depth with ambitious genre filmmaking. Among the most anticipated is Charrette, a feature directed by Stephen Steelman that is scheduled to begin production in October 2026. Produced by Lafon and Tori Ichikowitz, with Jasmine Gutierrez attached as casting director, the film blends psychological thriller, horror, and surrealism to explore addiction, recovery, and the competitive dynamics between women.
The project exemplifies Lafon’s interest in genre storytelling that serves a deeper purpose. “It’s not genre for the sake of it,” she says. “The horror exists to add weight and meaning to the protagonists’ relationship.” What particularly attracted her to the script was its examination of competition and the structural pressures that can turn potential allies into rivals. “Charrette exposes something we don’t often like to look at,” Lafon says. “How a lack of space for women in competitive industries can create dynamics that become toxic, even among people who should otherwise be supporting one another.”
A Different Approach to Difficult Subjects
Another major project on Rebecca’s horizon is Angel Wanted, directed by Ava Hase and produced by Undertone Films in partnership with Andrew and Jamie at 178 Blank. Currently in pre-production and slated to shoot in winter 2026 in New York’s Hudson Valley, the feature tackles the subject of teen suicide through an unexpected lens: comedy. The collaboration emerged from a relationship that began on the queer horror short Lady Parts, where Hase appeared as the film’s lead actress. Lafon had long suspected Hase possessed a distinct creative voice. “There was something incredibly specific about her perspective,” she says. “I kept hoping I’d eventually see her direct.” When Hase shared the screenplay for Angel Wanted, Lafon immediately understood the project’s potential. The script approaches a traditionally heavy subject through warmth, humor, and a profound appreciation for life itself. “Teen suicide is often depicted through grief and fear,” Lafon says. “What Ava was proposing was fundamentally different.” The result is a coming-of-age story that seeks not to diminish the seriousness of its subject, but to create new avenues for connection and understanding. “It’s deeply life-affirming,” Rebecca professes.
Building Undertone Films
In addition to her feature work, Lafon is overseeing several short films through Undertone Films that are expected to enter the festival circuit in 2026. Among them is a noir drama written and directed by Greer Sinclair exploring the final days before the death of Elizabeth Short. Another project, currently in post-production, serves as both a proof-of-concept and character introduction for a future feature exploring grief, sisterhood, and womanhood. Both productions were photographed by ASC Heritage Award recipient Zach Morrison. Taken together, the projects represent a growing body of work united by a common theme: stories that refuse easy answers while remaining deeply compassionate toward their characters. It’s a philosophy visible throughout Lafon’s career, from Dandelion and Lady Parts to Venice Days and beyond. Rebecca Lafon’s filmmaking remains rooted in a simple but powerful belief that the best stories don’t tell audiences what to think but rather, they invite them to understand someone else’s experience long enough to see the world differently. Sometimes, that’s enough to change everything.