LOS ANGELES (AP) — As Hollywood gathers for the Academy Awards, Sinners arrives on Oscar night following a months-long awards season run that has combined strong critical recognition with commercial success at the box office.

Directed by Ryan Coogler, the film has emerged as one of the most visible releases of the year, earning honors across major awards ceremonies and critics groups while drawing audiences to theaters nationwide.

The film’s awards-season momentum accelerated earlier this year when Sinners won the Cinematic and Box Office Achievement award at the Golden Globe Awards, a category recognizing films that have made a significant cultural and commercial impact.

Accepting the award, Coogler pointed to the audience response as central to the film’s success.

“We made this film for audiences to experience together in theaters,” Coogler said during the Golden Globes acceptance speech. “To see people show up, bring their families and share this story with each other means everything to us.”

Beyond the Golden Globes, Sinners has collected a range of nominations and wins throughout the awards season. The film led nominations at the Critics Choice Awards, where it earned honors including recognition for its ensemble and screenplay. It also received awards and nominations from critics organizations including the Boston Society of Film Critics, San Diego Film Critics Society and other regional critics groups that often help shape the awards conversation.

The film also earned recognition at the Gotham Awards, where its ensemble cast was honored, and received numerous nominations from the Black Reel Awards, highlighting its performances and production achievements.

Together, those honors helped propel the film into the center of the awards-season conversation leading into the Academy Awards.

Produced through Proximity Media, the film features an ensemble cast that includes Michael B. Jordan, Wunmi Mosaku, Delroy Lindo, Hailee Steinfeld and Omar Miller. Observers across the industry have noted the film’s ability to connect with audiences, both through its storytelling and the visibility of its cast and creative team.

Miller, speaking to The Inclusive Voices Project, said the filmmakers were intentional about how the film was introduced to audiences.

“I think you saw the blueprint of the youth and the cultural diversity all over the film and the film’s marketing,” Miller said in an interview with The Inclusive Voices Project. “You have Sev Ohanian, who is Armenian. You have Ryan Coogler, a Black man from Oakland, and his wife, who is a Black and Asian woman from Oakland. They understood that if you show people — my people — that this is a film they can go to the theater with their chest up and their chin held high and proud about, they will become ambassadors and create a groundswell of support.”

For Coogler, the story behind Sinners also draws from personal history. He said the film was partly inspired by stories he heard growing up about his uncle in the American South. Those memories helped shape the film’s emotional foundation, grounding its broader themes in lived experience.

Producer Sev Ohanian brings a similar perspective to the project. Born to an Armenian family that fled Iran before immigrating to the United States, Ohanian has often explored themes of identity, family and cultural disconnection in his work.

Ohanian’s filmmaking career began with short comedic videos he created while in high school using his father’s home video camera. The videos, which focused on humor drawn from immigrant family life, gained attention online and helped inspire his first independent projects.

One of his earliest films explored the cultural tension between immigrant parents and their Americanized children — a theme that would continue through his later work producing films such as Fruitvale Station, Searching and Missing.

In an earlier conversation with The Inclusive Voices Project, Ohanian said many of the stories he gravitates toward stem from trying to better understand the immigrant family experience.

“We write about things we know,” Ohanian said. “As children of immigrant parents, we’re always trying to understand that relationship — where our parents came from and how those experiences shape who we are.”

Ohanian later teamed with Coogler and Zinzi Coogler to launch the production company Proximity Media. The company has produced a number of high-profile projects including Judas and the Black Messiah, Creed III and several major studio productions.

The themes that appear throughout Ohanian’s filmography — identity, belonging and family — also resonate in Sinners, which has drawn strong audience support throughout its theatrical run.

Industry analysts say the film’s box office performance, along with its recognition across awards ceremonies, reflects a broader shift in how audiences respond to films that center diverse stories and perspectives.

As the Academy Awards ceremony begins, Sinners arrives after months of recognition from critics groups and major awards organizations. Whether it adds Oscars to its growing list of honors remains to be seen, but the film’s journey through the season has already made it one of the year’s most widely discussed releases.

It is subtle, unmistakable and, for those who have lived under interrogation rooms and blindfolds, almost physical. The noise lands somewhere in the nervous system before it reaches the brain.

For Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi, that ending was never accidental.

“The film began with sound,” Panahi said during a master class at the Armenian Film Society. “You hear this sound in the first 15 minutes of the film and then you don’t hear it for more than an hour until the very ending. And it had to be such a sound that when you hear it at the end, you recognize it and say, ‘Oh, he has come.’”

Panahi’s latest film, which premiered at the Cannes Film Festival and won the Palme d’Or, has since been nominated for two Academy Awards. But as he travels alone to promote it, navigating single-entry visas and the uncertainty in Iran, he speaks less about accolades and more about responsibility.

“I actually believe this film is a very good document of what has happened in Iran,” he said. “It testifies to the fact that the violence did not come from the people. The violence was injected into society by the state.”

During a masterclass held at the Armenian Film Society Headquarters in Glendale, he talked about how the film was made in secret. Though his formal bans on filmmaking and travel were lifted, Iran’s permit system requires scripts to be submitted for approval — and revised until they are no longer the filmmaker’s own.

“I knew that as soon as I gave that script, there is no way they’re going to give it a permit,” he said. “So I decided to continue working in the underground style.”

The production was stripped to its essentials: five or six crew members in total. They shot in deserts and enclosed spaces first, hiding cameras inside a van before attempting open city scenes. At one point, plainclothes agents raided the set. Equipment was hidden. Team members were questioned. The project paused for a month.

Altogether, the film was shot in 25 sessions.

But it is one scene — a 13-minute unbroken shot — that anchors the film’s moral center.

In it, the interrogator — blindfolded, tied to a tree — is finally visible. For much of the film, he has existed off-screen, confined inside a van, described by others. In this scene, the camera does not cut away. It does not rescue the audience with reaction shots. It stays.

“If I were to be visually just,” Panahi said, “he had to be present and the other characters had to be absent.”

The choice was deliberate. A medium shot. An open frame. No camera movement to follow the others as they enter and exit. The interrogator remains the focus.

“If I were a political filmmaker, I would have destroyed that interrogator from the beginning and, in the end, I wouldn’t have returned to him,” Panahi said. “But I consider him a human being too, and I allow him to speak.”

The scene took two nights to complete — 10 takes the first night, four or five the second. The actor, blindfolded and bound, had to sustain a performance for 13 minutes. Two or three seconds of weakness would have ruined the take. When they didn’t get the shot the first night, he wondered why.

Panahi eventually realized the problem was not technical.

“I realized I’m the problem,” he said. “Because I really didn’t know the character of the interrogator well.”

He called a friend, journalist and former political prisoner Mehdi Mahmoudian, who had spent nine and a half years in prison. Mahmoudian coached the actor, explaining how interrogators speak, how they pause, how they shift tone from minute to minute.

“The shot came together the second night,” Panahi said.

Two weeks ago, Mahmoudian was arrested again.

Panahi describes himself not as brave, but as a filmmaker who made a choice.

“I have always said that we only have two types of filmmakers in the world,” he said. “Ninety-five percent look out to see what the audience wants and then make that film. The other five percent say, ‘I will make my own film, and now it is on the audience to chase me.’”

He does not reject either category. But he is clear about where he stands.

“I consider myself a socially engaged filmmaker,” he said. “I make my films with a humanist outlook.”

That distinction matters. In a moment when anger and grief feel overwhelming — particularly after what he described as a recent “horrific massacre” in Iran — Panahi resists vengeance as narrative fuel.

“If I want to make a film about what happens today, I don’t know what topic I will pick,” he said. “Because anger, mourning and vengeance have overcome us to the point that we are not free from them yet to see clearly.”

Instead, he raises a question: What happens to the cycle of violence? Does it continue, or does someone interrupt it?

The ambiguity of the ending reflects that tension. When the sound returns, the audience must decide: Did the interrogator come back? Was he moved? Is redemption possible?

“You continue thinking about it after leaving the movie theater,” Panahi said. “Did what they do affect him? No matter how you look at it, you might get to the conclusion that even he could have been moved a bit. And you become hopeful of the future without violence.”

As an Iranian, watching the film is not an abstract exercise. It is the cold interrogation rooms. It is the blindfold pressed too tightly against the skin. It is the sound you cannot forget.

Panahi knows that sound intimately. During his own interrogations, he said, he was blindfolded and made to face a wall while answering questions from someone behind him.

“Your sense of hearing goes into overdrive,” he said. “Sound becomes the most important element.”

In “It Was Just an Accident,” sound becomes conscience.

Panahi has served prison time. He has faced 20-year bans on filmmaking, writing, travel and interviews. When those restrictions first came down, he turned inward, making films such as “This Is Not a Film” and “Taxi,” works that transformed confinement into form.

“When that happens, you become your own issue,” he said. “You return to yourself.”

But with this film, he steps back behind the camera and outward again — toward society, toward the prisoners he left behind.

“The day I was freed from prison and I looked behind me and saw those very tall walls, I thought, ‘I am out, and my friends are still inside,’” he said. “That’s when I felt a burden on my shoulders.”

The film is his attempt to lift it.

He plans to return to Iran after the Oscars. During the campaign, he said he learned of an additional one-year prison sentence and a two-year travel ban awaiting him.

“Sinners” Cast at the Golden Globe after winning Best Cinematic and Box Office Achievement

LOS ANGELES — When Oscar nominations were announced Tuesday morning, Sinners did more than enter the awards conversation — it redefined it.

The film earned a record-breaking 16 Academy Award nominations, becoming the most-nominated film in Oscar history and surpassing the long-standing mark set by All About Eve, Titanic and La La Land. The recognition capped a season-long rise that followed months of strong box-office performance, growing critical support and a slower — and more uneven — path into mainstream awards narratives.

The nominations also marked a historic milestone for producer Sev Ohanian, who became the first Armenian-American ever nominated for Best Picture. He is only the second Armenian producer to receive a nomination in the category, following British-Armenian producer Tanya Seghatchian’s 2022 nomination for The Power of the Dog.

The nominations place Ohanian — a longtime collaborator of director Ryan Coogler — in rare company and mark a defining moment for Armenian representation in global cinema ahead of the 98th Academy Awards, scheduled for March 15 at the Dolby Theatre in Los Angeles.

The film earned nominations across nearly every eligible category, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor in a Leading Role (Michael B. Jordan), Best Supporting Actor (Delroy Lindo), Best Supporting Actress (Wunmi Mosaku), Best Original Screenplay, Best Original Score, Best Casting, Best Cinematography, Best Costume Design, Best Film Editing, Best Production Design, Best Sound, Best Visual Effects, Best Makeup and Hairstyling, and Best Original Song.

For audiences who showed up early and loudly for Sinners, the recognition feels overdue.

From its theatrical debut, the film resonated with viewers who have said they rarely see themselves reflected with complexity and dignity on screen. Its ensemble cast — anchored by Jordan, Mosaku, Lindo, Hailee Steinfeld and Omar Miller — presented characters shaped by culture, faith, survival and memory. That specificity proved to be its strength.

Ryan Coogler, who wrote the script, has said the film was deeply rooted in personal history, drawing inspiration from stories he heard growing up about his uncle in the American South — narratives shaped by family, spirituality and the contradictions of American life.

Producer Ohanian has previously emphasized that the film’s success was never designed to chase approval, but to connect authentically. That philosophy extended behind the camera as well, where diversity was not a marketing strategy but a structural reality of the production.

Sinners entered theaters in 2025 to strong audience turnout and a global box office exceeding $367 million. Yet despite its commercial success and critical praise, the film was slower to gain traction in early awards forecasting and trade-media narratives. Early trade coverage, including financial assessments published by Variety, questioned whether the film’s high production costs could be offset despite a strong opening, skepticism that faded as the film continued to perform globally.

The film’s trajectory offers a case study in how audience connection and peer recognition can diverge from early institutional storytelling — particularly for films led by creators and casts historically marginalized in Hollywood.

The Academy Award nominations — determined by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences — marked a clear turning point. Unlike many other major awards shows, the Oscars are voted on by more than 10,000 film industry professionals, with nominations largely determined through peer review. All members vote on Best Picture, while actors, directors and craftspeople nominate within their own branches.

That structure distinguishes the Oscars from several high-profile awards shows operated by for-profit entities that also own major entertainment media outlets shaping awards coverage throughout the season. Industry observers have long noted that these overlapping interests can influence which films are elevated early in awards narratives and which gain momentum later.

For Sinners, the Academy’s peer-driven recognition arrived after the film had already proven its resonance with audiences — particularly viewers who saw their cultural, spiritual and emotional realities reflected on the screen. Viewers and cultural critics alike pointed to the film’s impact on audiences who rarely see themselves portrayed beyond stereotype, a response that translated into sustained box-office turnout and word-of-mouth support.

The Oscar recognition comes amid ongoing conversations about representation at the Academy. For decades, the Oscars faced sustained backlash over the lack of Black and Brown nominees, prompting reforms that expanded and diversified the voting body. This year’s nominations suggest those efforts may be registering not only in membership statistics, but in outcomes.

The film’s historic showing underscores a broader truth: when institutions rely on peer evaluation rather than manufactured narratives, the work itself — and the audiences who sustain it — have a greater chance of being seen. In a cultural landscape still reckoning with whose stories are considered worthy of prestige, Sinners stands as a reminder that inclusion is not a trend, but a reflection of the world as it exists.

The film, directed by Ryan Coogler, has drawn strong audiences nationwide, outperforming expectations and becoming one of the most talked-about original releases of the year. Its Golden Globe recognition underscores a growing industry trend — audiences are spending money on films that reflect their identities and lived experiences.

Producer Sev Ohanian, a longtime collaborator of Ryan Coogler, played a key role in shaping Sinners from development through release, helping guide a project that blended commercial ambition with cultural specificity. Ohanian, whose producing credits include films that center character-driven storytelling, said the goal from the outset was to build a film that felt authentic to the people it represented while remaining accessible to a broad audience.

Coogler, whose work has also consistently centered underrepresented voices, previously credited audiences for the film’s success, emphasizing that the creative team felt a responsibility to connect authentically.

“We always had our minds on the audience,” Coogler said in a public statement following the film’s box office run. “We felt a deep responsibility to entertain and move people in the way only cinema can.”

For Coogler, Sinners was rooted in personal memory. He has said the film drew inspiration from stories he heard growing up about his uncle in the American South — accounts shaped by family, faith, survival and the contradictions of Southern life. Those experiences informed the film’s emotional core, grounding its supernatural and musical elements in something deeply human. By drawing from his own family history, Coogler infused Sinners with a sense of authenticity that resonated with audiences, particularly those who recognized pieces of their own heritage reflected on screen.

Sinners features an ensemble cast that includes Michael B. Jordan, Wunmi Mosaku, Delroy Lindo, Hailee Steinfeld and Omar Miller, whose performance has been widely praised. Miller said in a an interview with The Inclusive Voices Project that the film’s success was rooted not only in its storytelling, but in how intentionally its diversity was presented both on screen and behind the scenes.

“I think you saw the blueprint of the youth and the cultural diversity all over the film and the film’s marketing,” Miller said in an interview with The Inclusive Voices Network. “You have Sev Ohanian, who is Armenian. You have Ryan Coogler, a Black man from Oakland, and his wife, who is a Black and Asian woman from Oakland. They understood that if you show people — my people — that this is a film they can go to the theater with their chest up and their chin held high and proud about, they will become ambassadors. And that creates a groundswell of support.”

Industry analysts note that the Box Office Achievement award, introduced to recognize films with strong commercial impact, reflects shifting audience priorities. While franchise films continue to dominate theaters, original films led by diverse casts are increasingly proving they can draw sustained, enthusiastic audiences.

For Sinners, the Golden Globe win serves as both a financial marker and a cultural one — evidence that representation is not only meaningful, but market-driven. Sinners also won a Golden Glob for best Original Score.

As awards season continues, Sinners stands as a clear example of how inclusive storytelling and box office success are no longer mutually exclusive — but increasingly connected.

Since its theatrical release, Sinners has become not only a box office phenomenon but an awards season staple. The film led the Critics Choice Awards with 17 nominations, winning honors including Best Casting and Ensemble and Best Original Screenplay. It also dominated critics’ groups, sweeping multiple categories at the Astra Midseason Movie Awards and earning top prizes from the Boston Society of Film Critics Awards and the San Diego Film Critics Society. At the Golden Globe Awards, Sinners garnered seven nominations — including Best Motion Picture-Drama, Best Director for Ryan Coogler, Best Actor for Michael B. Jordan, Best Screenplay and Best Original Score — and won the Cinematic and Box Office Achievement award along with recognition for its score by Ludwig Göransson. The film also earned a Gotham Independent Film Award for its ensemble cast and racked up numerous critics’ nominations from groups such as the Seattle Film Critics Society and the Chicago Film Critics Association. Additionally, Sinners leads the Black Reel Awards with a record 21 nominations, underlining its wide industry support.

On the awards circuit, pundits and critics are actively forecasting the Academy Awards. Some industry trackers project that Sinners could land a large slate of Oscar nominations, potentially in Best Picture, Directing, Acting, and key technical categories — with some speculation even suggesting it could approach record nomination counts. Others note a competitive field with films like One Battle After Another leading in several precursor wins, but Sinners remains firmly in the conversation, especially for screenplay, score and ensemble honors.

The holiday romantic comedy follows Liana, a young musician navigating creative burnout who travels to Armenia for the first time to reconnect with her craft. What she finds — in the snow-covered streets of Yerevan, in unexpected friendships, in the pulse of a culture older than empires — is a reminder that the stories we label “specific” often hold the universal threads that bind us.

For Asatrian, the film is more than a love story; it is a love letter to a homeland many know, but few outside the diaspora have truly seen. “The holidays are meant to be spent with family, and what better place than the homeland,” she said. Filled with romance, humor, and cultural texture, the film leans into the idea that we share more humanity than we sometimes recognize — even across borders and languages.

Shot with a predominantly Armenian cast and crew, including producer Annie Dashtoyan, editor and producer Yvette M. Amirian, composer Arman Aloyan, and actor-producer Edgar Damatian, “A Winter’s Song” became as much a community project as a cinematic one. Behind the scenes, the set played like a homecoming, with many team members connected through Glendale’s Armenian diaspora.

“We ended up with a team that was mostly Armenian, and especially filled with incredibly talented Armenian women,” Asatrian said. “It became a beautiful celebration of our community both in Glendale and abroad.”

The film’s cultural ambition is matched by its emotional intent – a storyline about resilience, belonging, and the internal narratives that shape us. She believes everyone can relate to the anxious, self-doubting protagonist; the supportive friend who represents the voice we wish we always had; the reminder that healing often begins with the company we keep.

But building one’s own table comes with challenges. Asatrian credits executive producers and the Strobia Foundation for helping bring the vision to life.

What “A Winter’s Song” ultimately delivers is representation not as a slogan, but as an act of self-definition. The film shows Armenia not through the lens of conflict, but through beauty, humor, love and everyday life. It reflects a people not merely surviving, but thriving — and invites audiences of all backgrounds to participate in a story that feels both culturally rooted and widely relatable.

The film’s distribution deal was inked thanks in part to the work of attorney Arine Harapeti, who negotiated the agreement with Amazon’s Wonder Project App — a crucial step in bringing this Armenian story onto a global platform.

“As an Armenian-American entertainment attorney, it means so much to support fellow Armenians in bringing stories that celebrate our culture and our country to a wider audience,” said Arine Harapeti.

“A Winter’s Song” has already made its rounds across major Armenian film festivals, from the ARPA International Film Festival at the Chinese Theater to the Pomegranate Film Festival in Toronto. Its Glendale theatrical run drew a strong community turnout, culminating in a red carpet premiere at Warner Bros. The film becomes available Nov. 30 on the Wonder Project App on Amazon, opening its doors to international audiences just in time for the holidays.

In a season built around gathering, “A Winter’s Song” gathers a diaspora, a community, a culture — and invites the world to the table.

Because when you build your own table, you make room for everyone.

The afternoon, hosted by The Shift Studios and Winston Baker, showcased a lineup of storytellers whose work is driving cultural impact across film, television and media. Three back-to-back panels explored how women are shaping tomorrow’s narratives, navigating an industry in flux and transforming ideas into movements.

Shaping Tomorrow: Women Driving Storytelling & Change

The first panel — moderated by Emmy Award-winning journalist Roqui Theus — brought together screenwriter Marilyn Fu, J. Bey Entertainment CEO Jana Babatunde-Bey, and visionary entrepreneur Thai Randolph.

Fu, the screenwriter behind the upcoming feature film Rosemead, spoke candidly about nearly leaving Hollywood after a major project collapsed. “I was heartbroken and felt like I was going to disappear,” she said. “I thought, maybe that’s it. I’ve made some great stuff. Maybe I’m good.”

But a shift came when two long-dormant projects suddenly moved at once: Rosemead — starring Lucy Liu as a terminally ill immigrant mother confronting her son’s obsession with mass shootings — secured financing, and Fu was hired onto the writers’ room for The Copenhagen Test, set to release next month.

“I had to decide — am I going to disappear, or am I going to be visible?” Fu said. She chose visibility, signing with Paradigm and recommitting to championing Asian American stories. “If you have something to say, say it,” she told the crowd. “We need different voices to build stories from the bottom up so they can reach audiences.”

Randolph, a tech and media executive known for her work in inclusive innovation, spoke about navigating an industry defined by constant disruption. She compared the pace of change to “tectonic plates shifting beneath our feet,” reshaping careers and business models.

She shared how an unexpected email introduction early in her career rerouted her path from advertising into a visionary role at Sony. “These shifts lead to serendipitous — or miraculous — changes in your life,” she said. Today, her work is guided by a different mission — the world in which her young son will be living. “So much of what I do is about creating things for the world he will inherit,” she said.

Randolph also discussed financing and the persistent underfunding of women and people of color, noting that investors often rely on “pattern matching” rooted in familiarity. “The question becomes, do they recognize this person? Do they identify this type of person as successful?” she said. But the data tells a different story: “Women drive 85% of global purchases and trends,” she said. “We should be evangelizing the ROI in this audience.”

Babatunde-Bey echoed the importance of access and representation. She described her own entry into Hollywood as a UCLA student interning for Quincy Jones before landing at Will Smith and James Lassiter’s company.

She gravitates toward stories with powerful female characters, saying, “If we can find a story that illuminates something beautiful about womanhood, I love to do that.” She highlighted her Netflix docuseries, Amend: The Fight for America, calling the 14th Amendment “the central point of the push-pull of our democracy.”

But no matter the project, relationships remain key. “A brand is a thing, but the relationship between you and the person across the table is what makes the deal,” she said. “How can you be that catalyst for someone else?”

Fireside Chat With Omar Benson Miller

Actor and producer Omar Benson Miller, star of Ryan Coogler’s Sinners and known for Ballers and The Last Days of Ptolemy Grey, joined Thorsten D. Meier for a conversation on craft and creative identity.

Miller said he selects roles based on authenticity — not audience reaction. “The only thing I know how to be is me,” he said. “To successfully fool the audience, I need to believe it myself.”

He added that he doesn’t take jobs based on whether they’ll be liked. “I have to like it,” he said. “Whether it’s a podcast, a film, or an improv joke, I have to be the curator as per my taste — and trust that it will translate to millions of people.”

Miller also explained why he stays grounded in real life rather than chasing online trends. “I don’t really play the social media game,” he said. “I have to be in the world. I have to get the world on me so I can interpret what’s happening and spit that out through performance.”

Owning Your Narrative: Turning Vision Into Impact

The final panel — moderated by Hollywood Reporter senior entertainment reporter Mia Galuppo — featured Murai International founder Amber Clifford, Imani Media Group CEO Imani “Manny” Halley, Emmy-nominated showrunner Rob Weiss, and Black Excellence Brunch founder Trell Thomas.

The group explored how founders and creators build movements, not just projects, and why ownership of one’s narrative remains a form of both empowerment and sustainability in a shifting media landscape.

A Community Powered by Storytelling

As the panels ended and the Rhythm Garden music experience took over, the energy shifted from conversation to celebration. Afro House, Amapiano and global rhythmic sets filled the garden as artists, filmmakers and entrepreneurs connected over shared purpose.

Across the afternoon, a clear theme emerged: in an industry evolving faster than ever, inclusive storytelling is not just necessary — it’s driving the next chapter.

And the women on stage made one thing certain: the future is being shaped by those willing to stay visible, lift others and keep telling stories that shift culture forward.

The afternoon event — a collaboration between The Shift Studios and Winston Baker — brought filmmakers, writers and cultural leaders together for The Future of Storytelling × Rhythm Garden, a program focused on creators pushing the industry toward more inclusive and impactful narratives. But it was screenwriter Marilyn Fu, speaking during the “Shaping Tomorrow: Women Driving Storytelling & Change” panel, who delivered one of the most personal and resonant reflections of the day.

Fu, known for her nuanced, character-driven writing, told the audience she arrived at the event in the middle of what she described as “a shift” in her own life and career. Months ago, she said, she was ready to leave Hollywood altogether.

“I was really heartbroken and felt like I was going to disappear,” she said. “I had a project with every huge Hollywood attachment you can think of — a social impact story that meant so much to me — and it didn’t go forward. I thought, maybe that’s it. I’ve made some great stuff. Maybe I’m good.”

Then, everything changed at once.

A script she had written six years earlier — Rosemead, a film centered on a terminally ill Chinese immigrant mother who discovers her teenage son’s fixation with mass shootings — suddenly secured financing and went into production. Lucy Liu stars in the lead role.

“It’s interesting and nuanced, but difficult to finance,” Fu said. “And then all of a sudden, that film got financed and went into production.”

Almost simultaneously, Fu was invited into the writers’ room for The Copenhagen Test, an upcoming television project she co-developed with the same showrunner attached to her stalled social-impact film.

“I found myself in a position where this movie and this show are going to release next month,” she said. “I had to make a decision — am I going to disappear like I had planned, or am I going to really embrace this moment?”

Fu chose the latter. She signed with a new team at Paradigm, began working with a publicist and stylist and made a conscious choice to “be visible” — a pivot she said still feels surreal. “I’m just going to see it through and take every opportunity that comes my way,” she said.

Her story resonated deeply inside a panel focused on women creators shaping the next chapter of Hollywood. When asked how she stays grounded in an industry defined by inconsistency, Fu said creative longevity requires discipline and persistence, especially when validation is scarce.

“As a writer, it’s my job to write. It’s my job to create,” she said. “I’m not always going to be in a moment where someone is hiring me or paying me to do that. So I have to get up every day and find a way to keep going — write a short story, write in my journal, call someone I’ve been meaning to meet with. You never know what a lunch or an event like this will lead to.”

Fu also spoke candidly about the challenges independent filmmakers — especially women and women of color — face when seeking financing.

“When you’re asking people for money, you have to make them feel comfortable,” she said. “But if you’re a woman or a woman of color, think about the hurdle you have to cross. They may not share your lived experience. So how do we bring everyone into the same conversation so we can get that financing to flow?”

For Fu, creating Rosemead was both an artistic mission and an act of advocacy. She discovered the story in an L.A. Times article and said she was specifically looking to write a starring role for an Asian woman — a role she didn’t see reflected in the industry.

“I was hungry to find and write a starring role for an Asian woman. That was my mission,” she said. “I also wanted a story that could show the Asian experience and the American experience together. The alignment of that story coming to me at that moment — that’s what brought this film to life.”

She emphasized the need for women to speak boldly and take up space in rooms that weren’t built for them.

“If you have something to say, say it,” she told the crowd. “We need different voices to champion ideas from the bottom up — that’s how projects flourish, make impact and reach audiences.”

As the sun set and the event transitioned into the Rhythm Garden — Fu’s message lingered — storytelling’s future is in the hands of women willing to reshape it, even when the industry tells them otherwise.

And for Fu, that future is already in motion. Her film Rosemead is now screening, with her new series set to air next month. After nearly walking away, she stood before a crowd of women creators and said she chose visibility over retreat — embodying exactly what the Shifter(s) Series was built to spotlight: women shaping tomorrow by refusing to step back today.