Cornelian Cherries

A quiet, intimate watch that lingers on small everyday moments, slowly building a gentle ache as something beloved slips away.

A quiet, observational short that sits with a child's grief and moves at the patient rhythm of ritual and memory.

A quiet, patient act of mourning, watching old home movies and listening to hesitant memories slowly give shape to an old absence. It asks for stillness and rewards it with tenderness rather than drama.}{.

A quiet, observational documentary that sits with grief and the everyday labour of death, asking patience and emotional openness from the viewer.

A quiet, tender short that moves at a gentle rural pace, sitting with loss and the small, patient search for companionship.

A quiet, personal reckoning with loss that asks you to sit with someone's grief rather than watch it from a distance.

A quiet, intimate portrait of loss and adaptation, watching a family slowly find its footing again after upheaval.

A quiet, contemplative look at mortality that lingers in the mind.

A quiet, patient portrait that asks you to sit with an ordinary life and listen closely as it nears its end.

A quiet, unhurried documentary that drifts with its subject across a vast continent, leaving a gentle ache of distance and belonging.

A quiet, reflective hour that lingers on grief and ritual, letting Irish voices and landscapes carry a sense of shared mourning.

A quiet, humane documentary that sits with families in their grief, weighing belonging and burial between two countries.