Postpartum

Randy DeFord's "Postpartum" is proof that talent transcends all. With less money in his budget than a family spends on a weekend vacation, and even less money than you would pay for a so-so used car, the award-winning DeFord and his committed team of co-directors, crew and cast have crafted a murder story that persists through generations and comes face to face with you across the kitchen table. Based on the book by author, Cheryl Carmin Shaver, DeFord and co-writer, Cassandra Schomer, adapted the book into a sunshine-noir screenplay. Always visually confident, this movie boasts one of the creepiest houses I've seen in ANY movie (and that includes Norman's home and Leatherface's home) --and which DeFord introduces with an aerial shot no less. Casting of Indiana theater professionals is pitch perfect. The best thing about "Postpartum"? It's a "think-piece"-murder-story. One cannot come away without thinking hard and long on the issues of nature-nurture and "the sins of the fathers." Boy-howdy on that one. In this story, Death has an accompanist, Destiny. When those two become a tag-team, one has a murder mystery that is more than just thoughtful, it is an assault by philosophy. Philosophy can assault us-- whether we liked it or not in school. Philosophy assaults us whether we ever studied it or not. Philosophy works a lot at funerals—and murders. "Postpartum" is a regional film to see.