AuPair

With AuPair, I want to craft an intimate and atmospheric film that feels as though the audience has quietly stepped into someone else’s home. My approach is rooted in restraint. I want the camera to observe rather than intrude, allowing viewers to feel like silent guests inside the house. AuPair is a restrained social thriller, built on the tension of everyday life. The film takes place in the summer, but the heat offers no comfort. Sunlight pours through the windows, lighting up crumbs on the floor, sweat on the skin, forgotten toys. The colors are warm, saturated, almost too alive for someone who is trapped inside. Summer isn’t for her. The film inhabits ambiguity, a constant threat that never quite erupts but seeps through gestures and absences. The visual language draws on natural light, static frames, and the architecture of the house to suggest separation and hierarchy within the family. When Tayná is outside with friends, in the city, or at the airport, the frames open and breathe. Back inside, they tighten, marking invisible borders around who belongs where and who never fully belongs at all. Sound carries the weight of what is unspoken. The hum of an appliance, the creak of floorboards, a baby crying in the background. These ordinary noises are heightened to reveal unease and the feeling of being constantly observed. Casting is central to authenticity. Brazilian actress Mel Maia will bring Tayná to life with quiet strength, capturing the shifts between vulnerability and resilience. The supporting cast will be chosen for their ability to carry meaning in silence, through small gestures and withheld reactions. My own path informs this vision. I spent fifteen years in production before turning to directing, and I bring that discipline to every detail. Growing up in Brazil, I once saw the au pair program as a dream of exchange and opportunity. Today, after research, conversations, and listening to the stories of many au pairs, I see how it often disguises labor and unequal power. This dual perspective, the dream and the disillusion, is what drives me to tell this story. AuPair is not only a portrait of one young woman’s experience but also a reflection on the invisible structures of power that shape domestic work and migration. My aim is to leave audiences with an image, a sound, or a moment that lingers long after the screen goes dark.