Jeroo offers an intimate glimpse into the life of Jer Zenieris—affectionately known as Jeroo—as she prepares her signature slow-cooked barbeque short ribs.

Two films: a meditation on ancestral memory, and a conversation between the filmmaker and his mother about their heritage, their family, and legacy, while shaving coconuts on kamyus.

In a reconciliatory phone conversation set to old home videos juxtaposed with footage of independent adult life, the filmmaker and their mother candidly discuss intergenerational trauma and abuse.

An intimate oral history between a Korean (American) mother and Korean American daughter come to life through moving images archived across three generations to pose questions of nostalgic identity.

The rain in Oakland, my grandmother's home in Baghdad, my aunts’ voices in WhatsApp, my daughter learning to count to 10, my brother playing the darbuka, the cicadas in Texas, the walls of my studio, the search for new forms.

I hear about the fires in California where my father lives. From where I live, France, I fear that everything disappears. I try to understand our bond over our differences and how immigration affected it.

Jeroo offers an intimate glimpse into the life of Jer Zenieris—affectionately known as Jeroo—as she prepares her signature slow-cooked barbeque short ribs.

Two films: a meditation on ancestral memory, and a conversation between the filmmaker and his mother about their heritage, their family, and legacy, while shaving coconuts on kamyus.

In a reconciliatory phone conversation set to old home videos juxtaposed with footage of independent adult life, the filmmaker and their mother candidly discuss intergenerational trauma and abuse.