Ondi Timoner is an internationally-acclaimed filmmaker who has the rare distinction of winning the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance twice – for “Dig!” (2004), about the collision of art and commerce, and “We Live in Public” (2009), about the loss of privacy online as predicted in a bunker in NY over the turn of the millennium. Both films were acquired by MoMA NY for its permanent collection. Since then, her credits have included “Join Us,” “Cool It,” “Brand: A Second Coming,” “Jungletown,” “Coming Clean,” and “Mapplethorpe.” Timoner is currently directing a feature about the disruption and decentralization of finance.

“Last Flight Home” is screening at the 2022 Sundance Film Festival, which is running online from January 20-30. More information can be found on the fest’s website.

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

OT: “Last Flight Home” is about my extraordinary father, Eli Timoner, and our family as we prepare to say goodbye to him forever. I never expected to turn the camera onto my family until my father decided to end his own life in late January 2021. I was just desperate to bottle my wonderful father up somehow – and this was the only way I knew how. He was my best friend, my greatest pal and champion, and the most inspiring person my family and I, and most of our community, had ever known.

When he decided to end his life, I was quite suddenly catapulted into documenting as unobtrusively as possible – setting it all up in a way that would cause the least disruption of anyone’s experience, including my own. I put cameras on sticks and a lavalier mic on my father and anyone who came to visit him. Still, I didn’t know that I was making a documentary while I was shooting this film.

I was fully immersed in caring for my father while also soaking up every last minute I could have with him. There is a mandated waiting period of 15 days proscribed by California’s End of Life Option law, and “Last Flight Home” is a film about what happened in those 15 days, with our family, our friends, and mostly our father.

W&H: What drew you to this story?

OT: As we worked with the kind and brave hospice doctors and nurses surrounding my father over those 15 days, and I observed the comfort and peace it brought my father and family to be able to know the date he would be departing this earth, I felt increasingly moved to make at least a short film. As everyone gathered to gain any last wisdom and say goodbye, and as the loving kindness my father exemplified was echoed by everyone who knew him, it became abundantly clear in those moments what true legacy looks like. Those days were some of the greatest of my life. I will treasure them forever.

As I sat down to edit what was supposed to be a five-to- ten minute memorial video a couple of weeks after his death for a Zoom service that my sister, Rabbi Rachel Timoner, was officiating on March 21, 2021, the incredibly rich and beautiful footage poured over me. I found that my father was alive in the Avid! I could grieve him – often with laughter as he was extremely sharp-witted – and visit with him during long nights. Scenes and moments presented themselves almost effortlessly, and each could be seamlessly sculpted with a beginning, middle and end while remaining absolutely truthful.

The film flowed right through me faster than anything I have ever made. Six months after my father’s death, I had completed a feature. I stayed up over many late nights crying, laughing, and executing thousands of edits, but somehow I almost always instinctively knew what to do.

W&H: What do you want people to think about after they watch the film?

OT: I hope people look at the closest relationships in their lives and are motivated to nurture them. A big takeaway from this experience, for us as a family, was the realization that the greatest achievement in life can be measured by love – the love we give and the love we receive.

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

OT: I had never experienced the death of someone close to me and felt an urgency to make sure my father realized the impact he made on our lives. I also felt an intense fear, as if I was losing a part of myself and the ground beneath my feet – and I think documenting it was a way for me to feel my way through it as consciously as possible.

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

OT: I made this film on my own and decided for the first time in my career to apply for grants. This is such a personal film, and it didn’t seem right to bring it to a production company. There was also no time. My father decided to die within days of going into the hospital. There were only a handful of us in that room with my dad during these precious weeks and in post-production as well, so it continued to feel like a family affair.

I wanted to keep it all in the family. My brother suggested I apply for a grant at Jewish Story Partners, and I also applied to the Mountain Film Festival Grant. I had never applied for grants in my whole career, but given the ethereal nature of the film and the pure gift I thought it might be, I thought it was appropriate. With the generous support of these organizations, I was able to finish the film.

W&H: What inspired you to become a filmmaker?

OT: In college, I picked up a camera and realized pretty quickly that it was a bridge into worlds I could never otherwise enter. I found it more interesting to ask people questions and learn that way than through traditional research. By my senior year at Yale, I would only take classes where the professor accepted a film instead of a paper. Since then, I found my way into prisons, army barracks, rock-and-roll escapades, climatology labs, and even deep inside a cult.

Jean Renoir says that every director makes the same film again and again. When I heard that at first I thought, “How boring,” but looking back now I realize that we do tend to track particular aspects of human behavior across our work. For me, that means looking at what I like to call “impossible visionaries” – people who can’t help but do what they do and they do it against all odds. My father was my original “impossible visionary,” and it’s extremely gratifying to find myself back full circle shining my light on him and his incredible example of humanity in “Last Flight Home.”

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

OT: The best advice: “Be careful of who you get into bed with.” That old cliché is absolutely true. Life is too short to work with people you don’t trust with the work.

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

OT: The advice I have is the same for all creators: When considering a project, think about how important it is for you to explore your core questions and how relevant it will be to audiences because making a great film is not for the faint of heart.

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

OT: “The Souvenir” by Joanna Hogg. Joanna’s work creates a world that has integrity throughout and envelops the viewer. Honor Swinton Byrne gives an incredible performance, and I find the cinematography inspiring. Equal props go to Lisa Cholodenko’s “High Art,” which is a perfect film in every way.

W&H: How are you adjusting to life during the COVID-19 pandemic? Are you keeping creative, and if so, how?

OT: These last few years have been some of the most creative of my life. Having the time to really contemplate what matters to us all and concentrate on subjects that mean the most to me on a heart-level has been a gift. I find being at home, working with my amazing team, and going for long walks in nature nourishes my soul.