Exclusive Interview: Devin Das and Parker Seaman Tell a Story Only Real Friends Could Pull Off in ‘Wes Is Dying’

Devin Das and Parker Seaman make films that catch you by surprise—not through spectacle, but through moments that feel honest and unshakably real. Their work lives in the quiet spaces between humor and heartache, often turning on a dime from something absurd to something unexpectedly moving. With a sharp eye for tone and rhythm, they craft stories that resonate in ways you don’t always see coming. Wes is Dying continues that trajectory—often silly and chaotic, yet grounded, and full of the emotional nuance they’ve come to master.

In Wes is Dying, a small, well-meaning gesture sets off a much larger, messier journey. After trying to secure a celebrity video for their friend, two aspiring filmmakers convince themselves there’s something cinematic unfolding—and they should be the ones to document it.

Pop Culturalist caught up with Devin Das and Parker Seaman to talk about the unpredictable road behind Wes is Dying, the freedom that comes with carving your own path, and how their shared sensibility shaped every frame. From filming without a clear destination to discovering unexpected emotional turns, the duo opens up about making something that wasn’t supposed to be a movie—until it was.

PC: I really appreciated how you showed the real side of the industry—where, for most artists, it’s about making ends meet. But we’re also in this exciting time where storytellers are taking their careers into their own hands and creating projects like this. What did this project do for each of your creative souls? And was that part of what inspired you to make it in the first place?
Devin: We started writing this during the pandemic, and we were feeling all of that uncertainty—personally, professionally, globally. We kept asking ourselves, “What’s next for our careers? What’s next for the world?” It was such a surreal time, and we finally had space to sit with all those questions. That’s when we decided, let’s just make something. Initially, we thought it would be a short—something scrappy and simple. But one thing led to another, and the project started to snowball. We landed a bit of funding, which led to a little more, and suddenly we realized, “Wait, we’re actually making a feature.” It was still very DIY—a skeleton crew, all of us driving ourselves from one location to the next, knocking out scenes. But it all came from that place of, “What now?” We just wanted to create for the sake of creating—and then see what happened if we sent it around.

Parker: It really was a happy accident. We’d made a couple of shorts during the pandemic that had done well, and thought, “What if we expanded on that style a bit?” That’s where the idea to mix found footage with Zoom calls and FaceTimes came from. We had zero expectations. If it turned out great, we’d share it. If not, it would still be something we could look back on and be proud of. There was no traditional path—no big financing plan or casting process. We just picked up the camera and went for it. It’s a rare kind of experience, and honestly, I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to recreate something quite like it.

PC: Parker, the use of archival footage and photography adds such emotional depth to the film and gives audiences a real sense of how deep this friendship runs—especially given the premise and everything these characters put each other through. What was the process like sifting through all that material? And how did you strike a balance between honoring the history and complexity of that friendship while also weaving in your own filmmaking DNA?
Parker: That’s a great question. This narrative is such a rare case of art imitating life—and then life imitating art as we were making it. There’s a scene in the film where I’m literally going through hard drives, revisiting old footage of our friendship over the years. And that’s exactly what Devin and I were doing in real life. We were looking for ways to incorporate that material—not just to show that this friendship has history, but to actually live it out on screen while layering in real emotion.

From the start, we approached the archival footage almost like we were introducing well-known public figures—people the audience should already be familiar with. Obviously, we’re not, but the idea was to convey, through these clips, that there’s a deep, lived-in relationship here. So when the story kicks into gear and the characters start putting each other through the wringer, it lands with more weight because you’ve seen what’s at stake.

Story-wise, we built it into the script from early drafts. There would be a note like “archival footage plays here,” knowing it would depend on what we ultimately found. But it also became a way to add texture to the film. We’ve been making sketches, shorts, and home videos for years—there’s VHS footage, DV tapes of vacations, clips from our first apartment in 2013. That kind of material is rare to have access to, so we thought, why not use it?

It ended up being a fun stylistic choice, sure, but more importantly, it was a character choice. It let us establish that these two guys are real friends without having to spell it out through exposition. The footage does the work for us—it brings authenticity and stakes to the story.

PC: Devin, the mark of great filmmakers is their ability to pivot—to stay open and let the story evolve and almost tell itself. You and Parker both come from a comedy background, but somewhere along the way, this project shifted into more of a dramedy. When did you start to feel that tonal shift? And how do you think that evolution reflects the nature of your real-life friendship?
Devin: That’s a great question. For Parker and me, the comedy and the silliness of a situation—or even just the “game” of a scene—comes pretty naturally, especially when we’re riffing and mapping out the outline: “This leads to that, which sets up this.” From the beginning, we knew we didn’t want to make a traditional road trip movie—we wanted to comment on road trip movies. So we leaned into the meta, starting with the tropes, asking what we could flip or subvert, and building scenes around what felt funny or playful. Then we’d work backward to layer in story, character motivation, and emotional throughlines.

At the same time, we knew the film was already visually asking a lot of the audience—we’re shifting formats constantly, from Zoom to FaceTime to VHS. So we didn’t want the comedy to feel too over-the-top or absurd on top of that. We made a conscious effort to keep things grounded in the characters and their emotional reality. There’s definitely a line of silliness we ride, but the drama came in naturally as we leaned into who these people are and what they’re going through.

We’d have these VHS footage moments—super fun, nostalgic clips where we’re clearly having the best time—and then cut to scenes where the characters are exhausted and irritated from sleeping in a van all day. That contrast actually helped ground everything. It gave us the freedom to play with tone while still anchoring it in something honest and relatable.

PC: One of your biggest strengths as filmmakers is your self-awareness—you clearly knew the story you wanted to tell and how it might land. How did that awareness shape your approach to tone? Were there ever moments where you questioned whether to pull back or push further? And how much does thinking about the audience’s reception factor into that?
Parker: We battle that in life, right? [laughs]

Devin: Right. [laughs]

Parker: We definitely got it all out in this film. Dev and I talked a lot about the pessimism we were feeling at the time. The tone is very much a snapshot of that moment—of the pandemic. I can confidently say we’re in a much more optimistic headspace now, especially with the projects we’re working on. But back then? There was definitely a “burn it all down” energy. That came through on screen. I don’t think we knew just how hard we’d be winking—almost blinking at times—until we started shooting. That nihilistic tone crept in because we were turning the mirror on mumblecore in a way. We’re huge fans of the genre, but it’s been around long enough that we thought, “Okay, what if we flip this on its head?”

So we found ourselves almost parodying it by doing it exactly. We’re winking at the thing we’re poking fun at, while fully doing the thing—and sincerely having a blast doing it. It’s convoluted, but so is the movie. And that felt honest to us.

Devin: I’m proud of what we were able to pull off. We both have this heightened sense of self-awareness, but we also have this shorthand from being friends for so long. Whether it was during writing, production, or post, we could check in with each other constantly. We’d spot the moments that needed adjusting—whether that was in performance or behind the camera—and we could make quick decisions. We just knew when something was clicking and when it wasn’t.

Parker: Totally. There’s almost a sixth sense between us when it comes to tone. It was easy to feel when a moment was veering off the rails or when we’d hit that sweet spot. That applied to the comedy, the drama—everything. And honestly, it also reflected where we were in our lives. The film feels like a coming-of-age story for people entering their 30s—that point when you start to figure out who your long-term people are versus the short-term friends who drift away. That was the emotional core.

We were trying to blend complete self-awareness and borderline wackiness with something more grounded and emotional. And to me, that is the tone of our friendship. One second we’re making jokes about the dumbest thing, and the next we’re in a serious heart-to-heart without skipping a beat. We wanted to capture that rhythm. It’s a rare tone—one you probably only get when two friends are writing a film about their friendship in real time… while also making up a completely fake story about stealing an insurance commercial from each other, which did not happen in real life. [laughs]

That balance—between the real and the absurd—that’s the DNA of this film. I’m proud of the authentic moments, but I also love that we have two-and-a-half straight minutes of us eating fast food, just because it made us laugh. That’s something we’d genuinely do, so we thought, “Why not?” It’s a blend of who we really are, and who we definitely aren’t—but it all felt true in its own weird way.

PC: When you’re both the writers and the stars of a project, there’s a natural flexibility to try new things on set. But with indie films, there’s also the reality of a limited budget. How did you create space to still explore and experiment within those constraints—and was there a moment or scene that made the final cut because of that?
Parker: Devin, would you like to talk about your jacuzzi experience?

Devin: Oh wow.

Parker: Well, our jacuzzi experience—but for some reason, it ended up falling on you.

Devin: That moment is actually a perfect example of what you’re asking. We were out scouting this motel in the middle of nowhere and talked to the owner, who also lived on the property. We told him we’d be back in a few weeks to shoot and asked, “Would it be possible to have the hot tub filled by then?” At the time, it was completely empty. He said, “Sure, no problem.”

Cut to a few weeks later—we show up to shoot the bubble bath scene, walk into the room we’d booked, and there he is, filling up a different jacuzzi tub inside. We were like, “Wait… what happened to the hot tub?” And he goes, “Oh, that one’s broken. But I’ve got this one in here!” And we’re just standing there thinking, “This is not what we talked about.”

But honestly, we rolled with it. And it ended up working in our favor. Having an empty tub actually made more sense for where the characters were emotionally. Plus, without the sound of bubbling water, it gave us room to improvise and really settle into the scene. It felt looser, more natural.

Parker: Yeah, it became this unexpected gift. And it speaks to how much our shorthand helped us. After years of making things together and knowing each other so well, we were able to move quickly—we’d get what we needed from the script, then still have time to riff. It was like having double the time on set because we were so in sync. We knew the scenes inside and out, what the goal was, and if we felt good about the take, we could try something new that still made sense for the characters.

There were definitely moments—like the hot tub—that didn’t go as planned. But instead of getting frustrated, we just leaned in and made it work. A lot of those curveballs actually made the film stronger.

Devin: Totally. That’s kind of how we deal with everything—we don’t get mad, we just start laughing because we can’t believe it’s happening. That jacuzzi scene, for example, is a moment in the film where the characters are connecting, but as filmmakers, we were also cracking up because it was so far from what we envisioned. We asked an adult man to fill a hot tub, and he filled a random bathtub instead. And yet somehow… it made the scene even better.

PC: I love filmmakers who consistently work with their core group of friends and collaborators—and then we get projects like this. What’s next for each of you? And what did you take away from this experience that you’ll bring into the next?
Parker: Devin and I are going to keep working together forever. Will we name our characters after ourselves again? Probably not. You see a Letterboxd review that’s like, “Devin and Parker are insufferable,” and we’re like, “Yeah, the characters are—but we’re not like that in real life!” I wish we had named them John and Anthony.

As for what’s next—we love working in this tone. It’s something that comes naturally after a decade of friendship. There are other things we’re exploring, but one of the big takeaways from this project was realizing the kind of humor we’re drawn to. It’s not really about setups and punchlines—it’s about situational comedy, and moments that feel like reminiscing with someone you know really well. That’s something we really enjoyed and want to keep chasing.

Devin: Yeah, this film—and the short we made that helped inspire its tone—have definitely shaped what we’re working on now. We love bringing audiences in through the silliness, the goofiness, and then—almost without realizing it—they’re suddenly emotionally invested. They’re like, “Wait, why am I feeling things right now? Weren’t these guys just talking about being constipated for an hour?”

Parker: I’d like to point out that was your character. Mine was not. [laughs]

Devin: Fair—one of the characters was talking about having to poop too much. [laughs] But then, out of nowhere, you’re relating to them because their friendship is falling apart. That’s what we’re chasing in our next projects too—something that can make you laugh at how ridiculous it all is, and then hit you with something real.

Make sure to follow Devin (Instagram) and Parker (Instagram). Watch Wes is Dying wherever you stream movies.

Photo Credit: Sticky Boy Pictures, LLC