SXSW 2025: Winnie Cheung & Celia Au Talk ‘Last Call,’ Crafting Practical Horror, and the Power of Independent Film

Like a serpent in the dark, Last Call slithers into your subconscious and leaves its mark. Directed and co-written by Winnie Cheung, the gripping short film blends psychological horror with a deeply personal exploration of identity, desire, and transformation. Claudia Chow, played by Celia Au, is a thrill-seeker living for the rush—until a high-speed crash fractures her reality, unleashing the eerie presence of the Serpent Woman. As Claudia spirals between illusion and truth, the film weaves together striking visuals, practical effects, and a hauntingly immersive atmosphere.
At the heart of Last Call is a creative team driven by passion and innovation. Winnie, known for her distinctive visual language and ability to craft deeply layered narratives, assembled a crew that was almost entirely female-led, fostering an environment where every artist could thrive. In an industry where female filmmakers continue to face systemic challenges in securing financing and creative control, independent projects like Last Call push boundaries, proving that visionary storytelling doesn’t need a massive budget—it needs an unshakable commitment to the craft. Celia, who not only stars as Claudia but also serves as producer, embraced that spirit, helping bring this ambitious vision to life. From drawing inspiration from Hong Kong cinema to blending commercial techniques with practical horror, Winnie and her team turned obstacles into opportunities, demonstrating the resilience of independent filmmaking.
Pop Culturalist sat down with Winnie Cheung and Celia Au to dive into the making of Last Call—from the challenges of shooting over several years to the power of practical effects and the importance of building a strong creative community. They also share their insights on navigating the industry as female filmmakers, embracing artistic freedom, and why independent cinema remains one of the most vital spaces for bold, uncompromising storytelling.
PC: Winnie, you’ve never shied away from tackling sensitive subject matter in your filmmaking, but horror was a genre you didn’t initially have a strong affinity for. Through your collaboration with your Last Call co-writers, Courtney and Hillary [Andujar], you discovered how it spoke to you. Can you share a bit about that journey and how it lends itself to this story and the inspiration behind it?
Winnie: I’ve actually been involved in horror films for a while now. My first big project was Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched: A History of Folk Horror, which also played at South by Southwest (SXSW) a few years ago and won the Audience Award. I was an editor and co-producer on that feature, which explored the history of folk horror. For that project, I screened over 200 folk horror films from around the world. That experience kickstarted my interest in horror, particularly folk horror as a storytelling vehicle.
It was actually Courtney and Hillary who recommended me for the project, and they’ve been deeply collaborative partners ever since. They also wrote on my first feature film, and over time, we’ve formed a little storytelling coven—supporting each other across different projects, including this one.
PC: Celia, your character is someone audiences will undoubtedly see themselves in, which is a testament to both your performance and the entire creative team. That kind of connection is an incredible feat, especially in a short film. What was it about this character that spoke to you, and how did you approach both her strength and fragility within such a limited runtime?
Celia: A lot of credit goes to our incredible director, Winnie. We started this project in 2020, and it took a really long time to come together. Winnie was amazing at guiding the actors through the emotional core of the character, breaking down why Claudia feels a certain way throughout the script. Originally, the script was much longer, but due to COVID, we had to rework certain aspects. As Winnie and I reworked it, we were able to take a deeper dive into the character.
Winnie loves referencing music and movies. Since we are both of Hong Kong descent, we talked a lot about Hong Kong cinema, its characters, and how to bring that essence into Claudia. Another thing Winnie does so well is using animal and breath work to really tap into a character’s essence—considering what animal represents a character’s emotional state in a specific moment. A lot of the process was Winnie helping us craft these characters with so much depth and intention.
PC: Winnie, you have such a distinctive visual language—one that’s immersive and entirely your own. What has played the biggest role in shaping that aspect of your craft? And how did you bring it together in this piece, which blends reality and illusion?
Winnie: That’s a great question. My visual style is shaped by a mix of my background in commercial filmmaking, my love for Hong Kong cinema, and influences from French extremity body horror and early ’90s American erotic cinema. It’s a blend of Eastern and Western storytelling, modern commercial techniques, and a deep appreciation for older films—breaking them down to understand what draws me in and how I can apply those ideas to what I have access to now.
I’ve always seen myself as a bridge—between the East and the West, between movies and commercials. Once I embraced that, I was able to connect these different influences and create something that feels uniquely mine.
PC: Huge credit to you. From that opening scene, you’re immediately immersed as an audience member. This also makes me want to watch more films from Hong Kong. Celia, the short explores themes of identity, immigration, and the universal feeling of being “othered.” But there’s something empowering about reclaiming that narrative in a female-led project like this. How did that environment support you in delivering such a powerful performance? Because I don’t think you’ve ever been better.
Celia: Thank you! Winnie assembled an almost entirely female crew—all the department heads were women. On top of that, we got to work with a lot of our friends, so there was already such a strong rapport. We shot over four days, and everyone was having fun, which is so important when you’re making a film. You have to enjoy the process. You could see the joy in every department as people brought their creativity to life.
For example, in the flower scene you see, Bethany [Yeap] built that entire set piece. I remember when she showed it to Winnie, and Winnie was like, “This is great! This is exactly how I envisioned it.” Everyone in the crew was in awe. Having that safe, supportive, and creative environment allows people to grow and glow at the same time. I never once felt uncomfortable because everyone was there supporting one another, making sure we were all okay every step of the way.
PC: Winnie, correct me if I’m wrong, but you shot this over several weekends spanning multiple years. How did that process evolve? How did the extended timeline shape the film creatively and logistically? I also know you’ve said this is the most challenging yet rewarding project you’ve worked on. What did you learn about your own craft that you’ll potentially bring to the feature?
Winnie: That wasn’t the plan. [laughs] The plan was to shoot for five days and be done. But those five days ended up being spread, as you said, over five years. A lot of that had to do with COVID. We shot our first day, then had a COVID scare, and we made the decision to pause production to keep everyone safe. Because of that, we lost some funding, and a big part of the process became figuring out how to recover financially. If we weren’t able to recoup everything, we had to go back to the drawing board—reassessing how we could still tell the same story and convey the same message with fewer resources.
I’ve always believed that the more limitations you have, the more creative you have to be, and this film proved that again and again. I was really inspired by my friend Will [Suen], who shot Sweet Juices in Australia. He told me how they filmed over weekends and, between shoots, they would review the footage, analyze what was working, and adjust accordingly. That approach gave them the flexibility to play with unexpected discoveries rather than rigidly sticking to the script.
Sometimes, you just follow the script and shoot exactly what’s on the page, without having time to step back and really interrogate the footage. But because we had the luxury of time, we were able to see what was actually interesting and let that guide us. The experience itself showed us where to go.
PC: I’ve been covering SXSW for three years, and I’ve never seen a short as good as this one. It feels like you had a massive budget—on screen, it feels so grand in scale. Celia, you’ve worked on projects of all sizes. What is it about independent filmmaking that continues to fuel your artistic soul and inspire you to step into the role of producer on this short?
Celia: I love independent filmmaking because I truly believe—and I’ve said this many times—that storytelling has the power to change the world. That can be for better or worse, but it’s a way to create change. When Winnie first approached me with this project, I thought, “This is really interesting.” Then I saw her animated short, Albatross Soup, and I was like, “This is so trippy and different from anything I’ve done before.” I immediately knew I wanted to collaborate with her.
When we met in person, we realized we had so many shared experiences—growing up as third-culture kids, navigating that blend of Hong Kong and American cultures. I truly believe indie films are where creators and storytellers get to shine because they have more control over their vision. We all know that in studio films, even directors don’t always have a say in the final cut. After a certain point, the studio has its own path for how the story should be told, and it ultimately becomes a studio film. In the independent world, Winnie has full creative control—this is her expression of art, her message to the world. And she gets to see how audiences receive it, exactly as she intended.
If you look deeply at Last Call, there are so many layers and messages woven into the film. That’s what inspires me to keep producing—I want to help filmmakers bring their stories to life in the most authentic way possible.
PC: It’s storytelling in its purest form. Winnie, I know it was really important to you to bring a sense of practicality to the creature. Can you talk about bringing that to life on screen and the symbolism it holds in the film?
Winnie: Nina Carelli is our practical effects artist, and I’ve been a huge fan of hers for a really, really long time. A lot of this film was about bringing together the most talented artists I admire and creating a story vessel that allows all of us to collaborate. Since I have a deep love for cinema but also work in commercial filmmaking, I kept asking myself, “How can I merge those two worlds to create something visually unique?”
In commercials today, there’s a heavy reliance on visual and digital effects, which is an interesting evolution in storytelling. But I don’t want to leave behind the beauty of practical effects—there’s something so tangible and immersive about them. They also make the set more fun. We had so many practical effects that involved the entire crew. There’s a scene where she’s flying through the forest with trees brushing past—every one of those branches was being held by a crew member, and we were literally running in circles to create that effect. It was chaotic, but that kind of hands-on filmmaking is magical.
And huge credit to Nina—her work took four hours to apply, but we did a lot of testing beforehand so that nothing was left to chance on set. She knew exactly what to do, and the final result was just stunning.
PC: I also love how you leveraged storyboards. That’s such a smart technique, especially when you’re working against the clock with limited resources while still creating something visually engaging. This is a question for both of you, but Winnie, you’ve been so open about the fact that, despite the box office success female filmmakers have achieved, they still face so many challenges when trying to get their projects financed. What advice would you each give to female filmmakers navigating these obstacles as they bring their stories to life?
Winnie: That’s a great question, but I’m going to let Celia answer first while I think about it.
Celia: I’ve always believed you should dream as big as you want but also understand the constraints—like Winnie was saying. You can always pare things down, boil the story down to its essence, and still make it work. Right now, Winnie and I are working on a feature that neither of us wrote—we’re helping a friend with it. And we’re figuring out how to scale it down because it’s expensive. There are already so many obstacles for women, and even more for women of color. So I ask myself, “How do we tell this story in a way that makes it achievable with the resources we have?”
I know that once we release it and prove ourselves, people will say, “Let me finance your next film. Let me help you.” But until then, people don’t always see your value. That’s why I always say, “Don’t let that stop you!” Make something, even if it’s a short. There are so many ways to tell your story, engage people, and build an audience. Just go for it. Don’t give up.
Winnie shot her first feature with minimal resources—she had a camera and just made it happen. That’s what led to her next project, and now she’s doing even more. I always tell people, “We all have our phones. If we need to shoot something, we can do it on our phones. It might not be as polished or cinematic as you envision, but it’s still a way to tell your story.
Winnie: I would say this project definitely taught me the beauty of delayed gratification and patience. If you truly believe in something and work toward it, people will be drawn to it. My collaborators stuck around for five years. They’re all incredibly busy and have grown as filmmakers in their own right, but they still came back. They were committed, even without always knowing what was happening next. That says a lot.
Another piece of advice is to go deep. What I mean by that is: understand the lineage of the story you’re telling. I’m not the first person to tell this story—I’m just the first to tell it in my way. So it’s important to understand where these stories come from. How have similar narratives been told before? How were these film techniques developed? If you trace things back far enough, you’ll find that at some point, a filmmaker had to solve a problem with nothing more than a creative trick. So much of filmmaking is just optical illusion. If you respect the lineage of the craft, it will teach you how to achieve your vision, even with limited resources.
Celia: I also want to add—community is everything. The community that Winnie has built is amazing. She inspires people through her voice and the stories she wants to tell. And like she said, sometimes we don’t know exactly what we’re getting into, but we say, “Let’s just go for it,” because we believe in her vision. That’s the power of building your own creative community. If Winnie were to start another project right now and asked the same crew to come back, I know everyone would say yes. They had so much fun, they respect one another, and they believe in what they’re creating together.
Make sure to follow Winnie (Instagram) and Celia (X/Instagram)
Last Call Screening Times at SXSW:
- Midnight Short Program at Rollins Theatre at The Long Center – Mar 9, 2025 (9:45pm — 11:36pm)
- Midnight Short Program at Alamo Lamar 9 – Mar 13, 2025 (10:15pm — 12:06am)
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