Why the I Will Follow Movie is the Best Directorial Debut You Haven't Seen Yet

Why the I Will Follow Movie is the Best Directorial Debut You Haven't Seen Yet

Ava DuVernay is a household name now. You know her from Selma. You know her from 13th or the sprawling brilliance of When They See Us. But before the massive budgets and the Disney collaborations, there was a tiny, quiet, and devastatingly honest film called the I Will Follow movie.

It’s raw.

Released in 2010, this project didn't have a hundred-million-dollar marketing machine. Honestly, it barely had a budget at all—roughly $50,000, shot in just 15 days. Yet, if you watch it today, it feels more urgent than most of the blockbusters crowding your streaming queue. It’s a movie about the "day after." Not the day after a disaster or a war, but the day after you've lost the person who anchored your world.

Salli Richardson-Whitfield plays Maye, a successful woman who took a hiatus from her life to care for her terminal aunt, Amanda (played by Beverly Todd). The film captures a single day as Maye packs up the house they shared. It sounds simple. It sounds like it might be boring. It isn't. Because DuVernay understands that grief isn't just crying in a dark room; it’s the logistics of moving boxes, the annoyance of unexpected visitors, and the weird, jagged way memories hit you when you find an old book or a specific coffee mug.

What People Miss About the I Will Follow Movie

Most critics at the time focused on the "Black indie" label. That’s a mistake. While the film is deeply rooted in the African American experience—specifically the middle-class, artistic vibe of Topanga Canyon—its heartbeat is universal. It’s about the labor of love.

Roger Ebert, who was one of the first major critics to really "get" what DuVernay was doing, gave it three and a half stars. He noted that the film "sees with a clear eye" and "doesn't push for emotion." That’s the magic of it. There are no soaring violins telling you when to feel sad. You feel sad because you’re watching a woman realize that her identity has been tied to a person who is no longer there.

The Topanga Canyon Effect

The setting is basically a character itself. Topanga Canyon isn't the Los Angeles of the movies. It’s dusty, isolated, and woodsy. It’s the perfect container for Maye’s isolation. As the movers come and go, and neighbors like the quirky Troy (played by Michole Briana White) drop by, we see the friction between the outside world moving on and Maye being stuck in place.

Have you ever had to pack up a dead relative’s house? It’s a specific kind of purgatory.

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You find things. Letters. Half-finished craft projects. DuVernay uses these objects to skip the clunky "as you know" dialogue. We learn who Amanda was through what she left behind. She wasn't just a victim of a disease; she was a vibrant, difficult, loved woman who listened to jazz and had a complicated romantic past.


Why the Casting Made This Work

Salli Richardson-Whitfield is usually cast as the "beautiful lead" or the "tough professional." In the I Will Follow movie, she’s stripped down.

She’s tired.

You can see the exhaustion in her shoulders. It’s a performance that should have been in the awards conversation, but because the film was self-distributed through DuVernay's own AFFRM (African-American Film Festival Releasing Movement), it stayed under the radar.

Then there’s Omari Hardwick. Before he was "Ghost" on Power, he was Troy in this movie. He brings this grounded, masculine energy that balances Maye’s frantic internal state. Their scenes together aren't romantic in the traditional sense. They’re human. It’s about two people acknowledging a shared history and the weirdness of how life shifts.

The "Twelve Visitors" Structure

DuVernay structures the film around twelve visitors. It’s almost like a play.

  1. The movers.
  2. The grieving friend.
  3. The estranged relative.
    Each interaction peels back a layer of Maye's skin.

Some visitors are welcome. Others are intruders. There’s a scene with a technician who comes to fix the internet or the phone—something mundane—that highlights the absurdity of life continuing. The internet needs to work even if your heart is breaking. It’s these small, prickly details that make the writing feel like it was lived, not just typed out on a laptop in a Starbucks.

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The Legacy of a $50,000 Masterpiece

We talk a lot about "Black Excellence" in Hollywood now, but the I Will Follow movie was the blueprint. It proved that you don’t need a studio's permission to tell a complex, nuanced story about Black life that isn't centered on trauma or struggle in the stereotypical sense.

It’s a movie about dignity.

It also launched DuVernay's career in a way that’s rarely discussed. Without the success of this film—which was a "sleeper hit" in the sense that it made its money back and proved there was an audience for this kind of intimate storytelling—we might not have Selma. The industry realized that DuVernay could manage a set, tell a tight story, and move an audience with very little resources.

Does it hold up?

Honestly? Better than most films from 2010.

A lot of indies from that era feel "mumblecore"—lots of talking about nothing. I Will Follow has something to say. It’s about the transition from being a caregiver back to being an individual. It’s a movie for anyone who has ever felt like they were left behind in the wake of someone else’s exit.

The cinematography by AJ Rickert-Epstein is surprisingly lush for the budget. He uses natural light in a way that feels like a warm embrace, which contrasts perfectly with the starkness of the empty boxes filling the house.

Technical Nuance and Directorial Style

You can see the seeds of DuVernay’s signature style here. The way she holds a close-up just a second longer than you’d expect. The focus on hands—packing, touching fabric, holding a glass.

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She doesn't cut away from the discomfort.

When Maye has a breakdown, it’s not a "Hollywood" cry. It’s messy and ugly. It feels intrusive to watch, which is exactly how grief feels to those experiencing it—like everyone is looking at you, but nobody knows what to say.

The film also tackles the "strong Black woman" trope by completely dismantling it. Maye is allowed to be weak. She’s allowed to be angry at Amanda for leaving. She’s allowed to be resentful of the time she "lost" caregiving. This kind of emotional honesty was rare then, and frankly, it’s still pretty rare now.


What to Keep in Mind Before Watching

If you’re looking for a fast-paced thriller, this isn't it. Put the phone away. This is a "lean-in" movie. It requires you to pay attention to the silence.

The soundtrack is also incredible. It features a lot of indie soul and jazz that fits the Topanga vibe perfectly. It feels curated, like a mixtape a friend would give you after a breakup or a funeral.

  • Runtime: Only 80 minutes. It doesn't overstay its welcome.
  • Where to find it: It pops up on platforms like Netflix or Amazon Prime periodically, but it’s worth a digital rental if you can’t find it for free.
  • Context: Watch it as the first part of a DuVernay marathon. It makes her later work feel even more impressive when you see where she started.

Actionable Takeaways for Cinephiles

If you're a filmmaker or just someone who loves the craft, the I Will Follow movie is a masterclass in constraints.

  1. Study the Locations: Notice how DuVernay uses different rooms in one single house to represent different emotional states. The kitchen is for "business," the bedroom is for "memory," and the porch is for "the future."
  2. Analyze the Dialogue: Listen for what isn't said. The script relies heavily on subtext.
  3. Distribution Lesson: Look into how this film was released. DuVernay’s DIY approach to distribution changed the game for independent filmmakers of color.
  4. Emotional Pacing: Observe how the tension builds not through external threats, but through the mounting weight of the boxes being moved out.

The film ends on a note that isn't exactly "happy," but it is "forward." It’s the visual representation of taking a deep breath after being underwater for a year. It reminds us that "following" someone—whether into caregiving or into their shadow—eventually has to end so that you can start leading your own life again.

Go find a copy. Watch it on a rainy Sunday. It’ll stick with you way longer than the latest CGI-heavy sequel. It's a reminder that at the end of the day, all we really have are the stories we tell about the people we loved and the courage it takes to pack those stories into a box and keep moving.