Deana Taheri’s Bill is a daring dark comedy short film that delves into the complexities of power, control, and societal norms surrounding gender roles. The film centers on a woman who, after enduring years of oppressive behavior from her sexist husband, reaches a breaking point. In a shocking twist, she murders him and turns his lifeless body into a puppet, crafting him into her ideal version of a husband. This unsettling yet comedic transformation presents a bold commentary on gender dynamics, blending horror and humor to challenge viewers’ perceptions of relationships, power struggles, and the lengths one might go to reclaim control. The film cleverly plays with the absurdity of its premise, using the puppet as a metaphor for control in a relationship. Through this darkly comic lens, Bill manages to highlight important social issues while maintaining its sharp wit. It asks provocative questions: What does it mean to have the “perfect” partner, and at what cost does one achieve control over another? The balance of humor and horror in the narrative gives the audience a fresh and thought-provoking perspective on themes often left unspoken.
Bill was an official selection at the prestigious 20th Annual HollyShorts Film Festival. The film’s inclusion speaks to its unique ability to merge comedy, and darkness in a way that defies traditional storytelling. The festival provides the perfect platform for Bill to showcase its bold vision and challenge audiences with its unexpected take on relationship dynamics. In an exclusive interview, we had the chance to speak with Deana Taheri, who served as the film’s writer, co-producer, and lead actress. The writer-actress opened up about the symbolic themes she wanted to explore through such a unique narrative and how the film challenges societal norms.
Here’s the full interview with writer/co-producer/and actress Deana Taheri.
[Editor’s Note: This interview has been lightly edited for clarity.]
Aayush Sharma: Congratulations on the brilliant short film ‘BILL,’ but before we talk about the film, I would love to hear about your journey in the entertainment industry.
Deana Taheri: I’ve always been passionate about the arts, ever since I was very young. I guess you could say I was lucky in that sense because I never really had to question what I wanted to do. Now, at 26, even though I haven’t been in the professional industry for long in the grand scheme of things, it feels like a long road nonetheless. For the majority of my life, I was focused on acting, and I’ve always loved writing too. But as I’ve gotten deeper into the world of entertainment, I’ve realized there are so many facets of film and creation that I really enjoy. That shift really began during my undergraduate degree at NYU. In my final year, which happened to be during Covid—another stroke of luck for me—I took a couple of classes that really opened my eyes. One was called “Script to Screen” and another was “Creating Your Own Content.” It was such a revelation to me—I realized that I could actually make my own work. That was a game-changer. I’d spent a long time feeling boxed into certain types of roles, or that the kind of parts I was drawn to weren’t necessarily available to me.
So, realizing that I could create something myself, that I didn’t need to wait for anyone’s approval, was incredibly empowering. And as it turns out, people wanted to work with me and were excited by my ideas. That was where things really began to take off. I was born in London, but I moved a lot growing up. Through all those moves, the one thing that kept me grounded was my love for the arts. Wherever I went, that passion was something I could tap into right away. It’s been a constant in my life.
Aayush Sharma: How did you come up with the concept of a woman turning her deceased husband into a puppet? What was the inspiration behind blending horror and dark comedy in this way?
Deana Taheri: Yeah, I mean, it does sound wild. I won’t shy away from that at all. It was something that just kind of… honestly, just came to me. And I think, as a woman in the world, especially in the arts, there are often times when men will typically tell you to change something about yourself for your own benefit. But in reality, they’re asking you to compromise who you are to make yourself more appealing to their gaze. That idea had always been in my mind. I personally went through a time when I was grappling with what it meant to have autonomy—over myself, my life, what I wanted to do, and where I wanted to be. I had this idea tucked away in my notes for a while. When the time came, I started working on it. I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before in an interview, but I started doing The Artist’s Way, the Julia Cameron book—shout out to Julia, I love you—and followed her model. I was going through a phase where I felt like I’d lost a lot of my artistic value. It was a sad time because, having been in the arts for so long, it was the first time I really felt down about it—down on myself, my agency, and how I could make my career and life happen.
So, I started The Artist’s Way, and as I was free-writing and working through the exercises, this idea really began to take shape. The concept of a ragtime soundtrack and clown-like performance came to me very quickly because one thing that sticks out to me about the distrust in feminism is the absurdity of what women are expected to do just to be accepted or loved. I wanted to stretch that idea to the extreme. What does a woman have to do to be free? Does she have to become a man? Even then, what does that mean? Could she really puppet around this body for the rest of her life? Is that feasible? Or is it just another form of entrapment, where she’ll never be free because the only way to do anything in life is by masquerading as her husband?
Aayush Sharma: How did you approach the role of Lilith, especially in portraying her emotional journey from suppressed anger to a manic state of empowerment and control?
Deana Taheri: Well, I went through my process as an actor. Once the script was written, I tried to separate my roles—switching off my writer brain and turning on my actor brain. I analyzed the given circumstances, building a mental picture of who the character was, where she came from, and how much she even remembered about her life before being married to Bill. I wanted to cultivate a deep sense of resentment, something that felt familiar based on personal experiences, which made it easier to tap into those emotions. When it came to the moment of killing him—poor Yianni, who played Bill—I really just let go. Honestly, I didn’t do much specific preparation for that. It felt like all the prior work and my own feelings fueled the moment. I remember we had a few team members upstairs during the scene where I screamed, and they were shocked. I mean, who screams like that in daily life? I didn’t know what it would sound like until it happened, but it came out as this raw, feral, animalistic wail. It was intense, yet very liberating as an actor.
From the beginning, I knew the music would be her voice. That’s why the score was so important. Lilith doesn’t speak—maybe she doesn’t even know how or has forgotten—but the music was meant to express her emotions. I drew inspiration from the likes of Buster Keaton, Peter Sellers, Charlie Chaplin, and even Mr. Bean, performers who relied on music to reflect their characters’ feelings. I wanted to amplify that, blending it with physical comedy. It also symbolizes her journey toward freedom, while capturing the madness of her decision to turn Bill into a puppet. As for the final moment, the look to the camera—it was a deliberate wink to the audience. It was the first time anyone directly acknowledged them, almost asking, ‘What do you think will happen next?’ The responses to that moment have been fascinating, as people interpret it in different ways.
Aayush Sharma: Your scenes with Yianni Sines after you stab him are some of the most unique sequences I have seen in any form of movie. How did you guys manage to do that and how much time did it take to film those sequences?
Deana Taheri: The whole shoot took place over two days. Most of the first day was spent filming Yianni alive and well. After that, Emily, the director, and I went through several ideas about what the puppet could look like. We knew it needed to be made from found objects, things that could exist in her home but in a sort of heightened, magical way—like the broomsticks coming out of the cupboard. It couldn’t just be a perfectly crafted marionette that you’d expect to see. The idea of creating a puppet from a mix of materials was always going to be fun. Emily came up with the cap and the tie attached to the back, which I loved. We even had broomsticks sticking out of his head most of the time, though I hadn’t yet figured out how to fully control his head. As for working with Jani, I’m incredibly lucky. He’s an amazing actor, friend, and collaborator. We’re actually working on another film together right now—one I directed that he wrote and stars in. For a role like this, especially involving physical closeness, there has to be an implicit trust, whether you know each other or not. Although he looked like he was dead and I was controlling him, giving me all his weight, in reality, there’s no way I could lift a person like that using sticks and be able to move so easily. It was a very heightened reality we created.
Once we taped our feet to the broomsticks, we were literally locked in. We had only one way to sit down, which was on a bench, carefully positioning ourselves so we could rest. We had to practice walking together because we didn’t have anyone counting on us. And since Yianni had to keep his eyes closed, he couldn’t see where to hit his marks. That put the responsibility on me to guide him. Trust between us was key. As for rehearsals, we didn’t do much. On the day of filming, we chopped up the brooms and just went for it. We probably had about an hour to practice before we started shooting, but Yianni’s commitment to the role made everything work smoothly. Plus, we had an incredible team that we could trust. They’d give us feedback like, “Relax a bit more,” or “Deana, make it look like you’re holding him up a bit more.” Trust among the whole team was crucial, especially in those moments.
Aayush Sharma: What was the significance of the waiter nonchalantly handing the bill to the corpse? Was this a deliberate commentary on societal denial or obliviousness to gender issues?
Deana Taheri: Absolutely, and I think there’s a larger message here as well. The waiter, being a faceless character, could represent anyone. The idea is that if you become a man, you can do whatever you want—you can get by without restrictions. The moment when she looks at the audience, asking, “Who’s going to pay for this?” is significant because she’s never had this kind of freedom before. In this world, she’s never had to think about those things. Maybe people like her never learn, or maybe they’re just stuck in that mindset. What’s interesting is that this isn’t something we often see discussed in a modern context. That’s why, at the beginning, we brought in the iPhone with the bunny case and had the waiter reference modernization, like when he says “LOL” at one point—which is kind of a funny, contemporary touch. There’s also talk of surgeries and cosmetic enhancements, very modern ideas.
But that final moment isn’t just about the societal denial of gender inequality—it’s about the absurdity of it. How far can we push this narrative to the point where the audience thinks, “Well, that’s ridiculous, that could never happen”? And then realizing, well, it did happen.
Aayush Sharma: Now, that the movie has won Best Horror at HollyShorts. What are your aspirations for the film?
Deana Taheri: We’re still deep in the festival circuit, and we just got word that we’re finalists for Best Dark Comedy Film at the Austin After Dark Film Fest, which is super exciting! So yes, the festival circuit is still ongoing. But beyond that, I’m also developing a feature-length version of the film, which will look quite different, of course, but it’s in progress. Emily and I are always grinding. She’s been working on a lot of projects—she directed four or five amazing music videos this summer, which have been great practice for her. As for me, I just directed my first film, A Boy Like Me. It’s a story about a boy who discovers he’s a clone of his father and has inherited his father’s memories. The film deals with generational trauma—what’s passed on and what isn’t. Jani, who played Bill, wrote and starred in it. We worked with a lot of the same team from Bill, including Sam Perry-Falvey, the cinematographer, and DVA Films, who did the lighting. We’ll likely be working with many of the same people in post-production as well.
As for Bill, we’re focusing on developing the feature version while also seeing the festival circuit through. Emily and I know we’re new to this world, and while some might see that as a disadvantage, we don’t. HollyShorts, in particular, was a fantastic festival to premiere at because of the amazing networking opportunities. We really made the most of it. I’m just excited to meet more people and get more eyes on this film that we’ve worked so hard on and love so much. That’s the most exciting part—having more people see it. It’s really cool!
The post INTERVIEW | Murder, Puppets, and Feminism: Deana Taheri Discusses How ‘Bill’ Balances Dark Humor and Social Commentary appeared first on Coastal House Media.