The script for Toluca Lake began as a question: how do we reconcile love with impermanence in a world increasingly obsessed with permanence? Gavin’s story—his yearning, confusion, and ultimately his act of release—became a meditation on our emotional dependence on the intangible. I was especially interested in writing a narrative where reality bends not in a sci-fi spectacle, but in a quiet, emotional fracture. The film embraces ambiguity, and I hope audiences walk away with the same uncertainty Gavin feels—haunted, but deeply moved.

As a producer, my goal was to honor the emotional weight of this story while making bold creative choices that align with its philosophical depth. Toluca Lake is more than a love story—it’s about the psychological cost of memory and the ethical limits of technology. This project also reflects my continuing interest in speculative, identity-rooted storytelling with Asian American leads. From building a sensitive, multidisciplinary team to crafting a festival strategy that balances reach and resonance, I’ve approached this film as both a creative collaborator and an audience advocate.