Elizabeth Chomko is an American film director, screenwriter, playwright and actress. She is an alum of the Sundance Institute’s Screenwriters and Composers Labs, and in 2015 won an Academy Nicholl Fellowship for her screenplay “What They Had.” Her plays have been produced in The Blank Theatre’s Living Room Series and The Kennedy Center’s New Plays Festival and workshopped with Inkwell Theatre’s Playwriting LAB.

“What They Had” will premiere at the 2018 Sundance Film Festival on January 22.

W&H: Describe the film for us in your own words.

EC: “What They Had” is the story of a family navigating a crisis. It’s about how returning home thrusts you back in time: back to the kid you used to be — no matter how old you are — and having to reckon with that kid.

It’s also about shifting dynamics as we grow older, the cultural rifts between generations, and how parenting your parents prompts a new coming of age.

W&H: What drew you to this story?

EC: The story is inspired by people I love and the realization that memory is a gift.

Making the film was like controlling time — being able to hang out with people I wasn’t ready to let go of and memories I didn’t want to lose.

W&H: What do you want people to think about when they are leaving the theater?

EC: The film is really a love story in many ways. My hope is that people feel the love it was made with.

The film examines gender dynamics within families, and how they’ve shifted quickly from one generation to the next. It looks at the impact childhood narrative has on one’s identity, and the ways we can be held hostage by it or held accountable for it.

It also raises questions about family obligations and tough choices in caregiving. Many families are navigating the care of their elders in ways previous generations were not. What are our obligations to those elders? What are our obligations to our children as we prepare for our own aging?

W&H: What was the biggest challenge in making the film?

EC: There were lots challenges, but the biggest overall was limited time and resources. Making quick magic out of whatever we had was challenging for all of us — but it was also one of the great joys. It generated a collaborative spirit — a sense that we were all in it together. Great ideas come from anywhere.

We had to let go of what we wanted to film to be and instead let the film tell us what it wanted to be, which was much more fun.

W&H: How did you get your film funded? Share some insights into how you got the film made.

EC: The film was funded by an independent production company. It was also supported by the Sundance Institute, which was invaluable at every stage.

The script attracted champions and allowed me to work with wonderful collaborators. I wrote and rewrote it over several years, developing the characters and story, and cutting fat. It brought me to the Sundance Screenwriter’s Lab and won a Nicholl Fellowship, which brought on board seasoned producers and got the script passed around.

The cast was passionate about the material and fought for it. Taking the time to craft a good script paid off at every stage, from pre-production to post.

W&H: What does it mean for you to have your film play at Sundance?

EC: There aren’t really words. It’s an honor to share a personal film with a community of people who know what a miracle each film is. It feels like a homecoming after the support of the Institute. I feel very fortunate.

W&H: What’s the best and worst advice you’ve received?

EC: Best advice: “You must always leave the door open on set because you never know what might come in.”

I don’t believe in bad advice. Bad advice is the best exercise for learning what to ignore.

W&H: What advice do you have for other female directors?

EC: Be undeniable. Consider logistics, characters actors will want to play, and economics. Give your work its best chance.

Aim not to be liked but to be respected. Don’t ask for permission.

Be grateful, but remember it’s a job we’re hired to do, not a favor we’re given.

Above all, support and be supported by other women. Go out of your way for this. Be as empathetic and forgiving as possible with them. We’re much too hard on each other.

W&H: Name your favorite woman-directed film and why.

EC: One favorite is impossible.

The first movie I saw that I was aware was directed by a woman was Jodie Foster’s “Little Man Tate.” I was maybe 13. I loved it then and still do; it’s a beautiful study of what motherhood means. At the time, it triggered this train of thought: A woman can direct a movie? Do women direct movies? Wait — What is going on that even makes me ask these questions?

Lynne Ramsay’s “Ratcatcher.” This film gives me goosebumps; it is gorgeously evocative. The rat floating through outer space by the balloon tied to its tail is one of my favorite moments in film.

Tamara Jenkins’ “The Savages.” This was a big inspiration for me. I love the tone and the specificity of the characters.

Penny Marshall’s “A League Of Their Own.” I will watch this anytime. It is astonishingly well-cast — from Jon Lovitz and Madonna to Rosie O’Donnell, Stillwell, and the small-town sports announcer. Every performance is terrific. It’s really an achievement.

I loved Marielle Heller’s “Diary of A Teenage Girl.” It put me right back to being a teenager discovering my sexuality. Bel Powley is so good, and the animated elements capture the source material with real love and respect.

W&H: Hollywood is in the midst of undergoing a major transformation. Many women and some men in the industry are speaking publicly about their experiences of being assaulted and harassed. What do you think of the recently announced anti-sexual harassment Commission made up of industry leaders? Do you believe that it will help make systemic change? What do you think needs to be done to address this issue?

EC: Many smart things have been written and said on this topic. There are a lot we’ve all tolerated to get and keep any seat at any table. There is no one solution, but the Commission is a great start.

I do feel like part of the conversation needs to be internal. Most bias is unconscious and does not discriminate. Women are biased, too — against each other and against ourselves.

I once caught a man taking pictures up my skirt in the shower curtain aisle at Home Depot. The staff didn’t know what to do, so the guy just left. I walked to my car kicking myself — what idiot wears a skirt to Home Depot?

All our lives we’re told, “Watch out. Don’t walk alone at night. Don’t park next to the white van at the mall. Don’t leave your drink. We’ve been warned. This is the way the world works. It happens to you because you do something stupid.”

We must release ourselves from the shame this narrative causes. And we have to stop projecting this shame on each other. We circle one another like vultures — quick to judge and blame, but very slow to forgive. And yet, when it comes to those that actually hurt us, we extend empathy, blame their childhood, and blame ourselves.

We’ve tried for a long time to change things by being deserving, but the squeaky wheel gets the grease. If anybody was going to hand us change, they would have done it already.

We need to support each other — and everyone on every margin — in order to leverage for opportunity and a culture where respect is a given. We need to lead by example and show our colleagues what this looks like. It’s easier for everyone to walk away from seats at the abusive table when you know, undeniably, that wrong is wrong and there’s somewhere better you can walk to.

It will help if more stories told by more women are celebrated. A hard truth is that part of this requires that they be entertaining and profitable. A broad reach will allow broad audiences to walk in the shoes of the actual human beings that women are.

Women need to write these stories, produce these stories, and direct these stories so that we can — and must — say on set, “There is right and there is wrong. On my set, wrong gets booted out the door quicker than you can say ‘nice ass’ to my lead actress.”