At first, A Cell Phone Movie feels like a joke. A man makes a film about a man making a film on his phone, played, written, and directed by the same man. But as it unfolds, something shifts. Beneath the absurdity, there is loneliness. And behind every gag, there is a quiet fear of being forgotten.

Will Sterling’s debut feature screened at Raindance Film Festival 2025 on 19 June at Vue Piccadilly, part of the QueerScreen strand. It was met with laughs, warmth, and an honest post-screening Q&A that felt more like a conversation than a performance.

Shot entirely on an iPhone 15 with a $20,000 budget, the film does not hide its limitations. Instead, it builds with them. Most of the gear was borrowed or improvised. Two lights. A few lenses. No zooms. No boom mic. No crew chasing perfection. Just two friends, Sterling and cinematographer SJ Huffman, trying to finish a film before the doubt kicks in.

“We shot twelve pages a day sometimes,” Huffman said. “We did not have time to plan. But maybe that is why it feels like it does.” They have known each other for over 20 years. That shows. The trust, the chaos, the shared glances when things nearly fall apart.

Sterling plays a version of himself who is desperate to prove something, but the film never rewards that desperation. He does not get the girl. He does not get a win. “He is not in a place where anything good would happen to him,” Sterling said. “He kind of sucks. But he is trying.”

And maybe that is the whole point. Trying, even when you are tired of trying.

There is something deeply personal about watching this film in a room full of strangers. I kept thinking, this is not really about making a movie on a phone. It is about trying to prove, to anyone who might be watching, that you are not nothing. That your ideas matter. That you might be someone. It reminded me of when I tried to kick off my first project, years ago, playing with my iPhone 7 Max, just hoping something would come of it. That same feeling of maybe this is it.

Sterling’s performance is effortless and grounded. His comedy lands because it is never forced. His heartbreak lingers because he never asks for pity. There is a quiet beauty in how he holds his mess together with humour. Jason Isaacs recently said during his Icon Award speech at Raindance that “filmmakers are fucked up people,” and this film gets that. It shows how hard it is to live with a dream you are scared to say out loud.

The film had its world premiere earlier this year at Fantaspoa in Brazil, and has just started its US run. But this Raindance screening felt different. “This is the first time it has played for an English-speaking audience,” Sterling said. “And it feels like home.”

There is no flashy pitch here. No viral angle. Just a film about making a film, and a guy trying to be seen. The humour lands because it does not reach too far. The heartbreak lingers because it is never underlined.

What they said at the Q&A

Sterling and Huffman shared the story behind the chaos. They made the film quickly, with no rehearsal and a lot of late-night problem solving. “We did not even test our setup properly,” Huffman admitted. “We were just making it up every day. But I said yes because we had not talked in a while, and I wanted to make something together.”

Sterling opened up about the character. “At first, I wanted people to cry for him. Then I realised he had to be kind of an asshole. Like Michael Scott. I did not want to impress anyone. I just wanted to make people laugh.”

He also spoke about the decision to shoot on a phone. “It was not about proving anything. I just wanted to finish something. And no one stops you when you are filming on a phone. People think you are shooting for Instagram.”

The aesthetic, he said, was inspired by Clerks, Girlfriends, Wanda, and Shiva Baby. “All messy first films. All honest. That is the energy I wanted.” The music, too, came first. “Charles Bradley was playing when I got the idea. That old-school soul, hustling for decades, finally getting a break. That felt like the heart of it.”

His favourite moment? “The quiet scenes. Me and Tessa at the table. That is how I actually talk. The rest is just a show.”

A Cell Phone Movie is rough, funny, and deeply self-aware. But in the moments where it slows down and stops trying to perform, it becomes something else. A small reminder that making something, anything, is still a way to stay alive.

And maybe it is also a reminder to support the people who keep trying, especially when they doubt themselves the most. Because you never know who might grow from someone like Will’s character, someone who, for now, just wants to be seen.

A film like this matters. It shows that it is possible. It gives you belief. It makes you want to start your own journey. Do not wait. Do not be afraid. Better to try than to live with the regret of not trying. Life is full of surprises. You just have to start buying lottery tickets to have a chance at winning.