Scrap

Scrap, written, directed and star by Vivian Kerr is a drama who speaks about homelessness and infertility issues with great sensitivity. It's a great family story as well.

The film tells the story of Beth (Vivian Kerr) who is homelessness after losing her job, her pride to keep it a secret from her brother and sister-in-law and the guilt for the burden she's placed on her family.

Anthony Rapp, as Ben, Beth's brother and Stacy, his wife, star by Lana Parrilla, are brillant.

We really enjoyed this film and the fantastic performances of its actors. We hope it see it very soon in theaters or on our TV screens.

Scrap feels like one of those quietly powerful films that trusts the audience to engage emotionally without being spoon-fed. It leans into subtlety rather than spectacle, with a minimal score and restrained cinematography that allow the performances and script to take center stage. Vivian Kerr delivers a deeply internal performance-most of her character's conflict plays out through her expressions, her silences, and what's left unsaid. It's a film built on emotional nuance rather than overt drama. Some viewers might interpret its pacing as slow, but it's more accurately described as deliberate and contemplative. The tension simmers quietly beneath the surface, creating a sense of unease and intimacy. The script is tight, with no wasted dialogue, and every scene feels purposeful. It's an understated yet impactful indie gem-honest, quietly affecting, and refreshingly devoid of melodrama. Fans of character-driven stories and restrained storytelling will likely find *Scrap* a rewarding watch.

I really enjoyed watching Scrap. This movie is just full of heart and authenticity. The characters felt so reel and lived in. Script and direction were really excellent and had me engaged from the start to the end. I loved how Ben and Beth really had a connection that felt real. They have their flaws, but accept each other and support as best they can. There were painful moments when Beth would continue to make bad decisions.. but that added to the realism of the characters.. as we all do that in our real lives. The journey that all the characters felt genuine and I wanted to know what was next for them in their lives. I really enjoyed the music and the beautiful cinematography. Just well done on all levels and a joy of a film. Highly recommended.

This film was heartbreakingly beautiful. It simultaneously hurt and healed all the way up to the end. The writing, actors, cinematography, editing, and music were all excellent (the choice of music almost felt like a character of its own). These characters were written and portrayed in a way that felt very authentic. My favorite relationship explored was Beth and Stacy's. Their differences and similarities complemented each other gorgeously. You can tell there is a level of respect between the two, yet they have this complicated sister-in-law relationship. It felt extremely honest, and I found myself not taking either side; I simply rooted for them to come to some kind of understanding. All of the relationships were believable, but their's stuck out to me the most. I was also captivated by each character's vulnerabilities and strength. My first biggest takeaway from watching this film was the reminder that no matter how different our lives and personalities are, we are all connected in this human experience. My second biggest takeaway was that it's okay to rely on others to help get ourselves back on our feet... and to have the road eventually rise up to meet you.

(The ending scene was masterful. Ben's nod told more than any line could've.)

I haven't spoken to my sibling in years, and watching *Scrap* felt like getting punched in the gut-equal parts guilt and love. The portrayal of Beth and Ben's relationship was so real it made me squirm. Their conversations, filled with awkward pauses, tension, and unspoken pain, mirrored the complicated history I have with my own sibling. It was like I was intruding on something deeply personal, something that wasn't meant to be seen by others. There weren't dramatic reconciliations or emotional speeches-just the small, quiet struggle to reconnect. And that's what made it powerful. It reminded me that sometimes showing up, even when it's hard, is the bravest thing you can do. Watching them try, fail, and still sit in the discomfort felt like a message meant for me. It left me wondering if it's time to try too, even if I don't know what I'd say.