Mallory Everton is best known for being one of the original writer-actors on the sketch comedy show “Studio C” and for her role in the Purple Mattress Raw Egg Test commercial. She also co-founded JK! Studios (where she writes and acts in comedic web series) and performed on NBC’s “Bring the Funny.”

“Recovery” is screening at the 2021 SXSW Film Festival, which is taking place online March 16-20. The film is co-directed by Stephen Meek.

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

ME: “Recovery” is an easy-to-watch COVID comedy that was written and produced in the thick of the 2020 pandemic. The film is about two sisters that go on a road trip to save their grandmother from a nursing home that had an outbreak.

W&H: What drew you to this story?

ME: As we worked on the script, we knew that writing about this pandemic before we had any distance from it could be a huge mistake. I recently read that Peter Morgan doesn’t write about anything in “The Crown” without 20 years of context.

We only had three months — and technically not even that because the pandemic was ongoing — but it felt so good to write something light and fun about this drudgery we were all experiencing, and I was really drawn to the simplicity of the story.

These girls just want to save their grandma. We don’t know much about their past. We don’t really know where they end up. But we know they are doing what they can. Making this movie felt like that — like we were just doing what we could.

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

ME: I hope people leave the film feeling seen and connected, like they just got to hang out with some friends who really understood what this year has been like.

I also hope “Recovery” provides a gentle reminder that even in tough times, we can always choose to laugh and to focus on what we can control.

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

ME: Honestly, it’s hard to pick one because there were so many! Ha. One of the biggest challenges was definitely how fast we made the film. We felt like speed was our friend since the future was so unknown. Who knew when this pandemic would end, let alone what the media landscape would look like? Maybe COVID ideas would be irrelevant in a year, or too triggering for audiences, or so tired that no one would want anything to do with them.

So even though festival submission deadlines were only a few months away when we came up with the idea, we decided to go for it. We were a team of first-time filmmakers, and we had to write the screenplay in two weeks, pre-produce in two weeks, shoot in two weeks, and then get a first cut out in two weeks. All in the middle of a pandemic.

It was grueling, to say the least, but we learned a ton, so it was worth it.

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

ME: We purposely tried to write something small enough to make it possible for us to completely self-fund if necessary. We sent the script out to a few local investors in Utah where we were shooting, but we were moving fast and didn’t hear back from anyone before we had to start production, so we went for it anyway. I’m big on gut instincts, and we just had a good feeling about it.

Then a few days into our first brutal week of filming, a company called Sorø got back to us, and told us they were interested in investing in female-driven stories, comedies, and first-time filmmakers. We were like, “Well, that’s exactly what we are!” It was such a great fit, and they saved us big time. The film would’ve suffered immensely without their financial help, not to mention moral support, but I still like to think we benefited from just going for it.

I think there’s something powerful about just taking off on your own and letting people know that the train is leaving with or without them, so they better climb on fast.

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

ME: I think it was my older brother Beau. He was a really talented artist, and when I was in grade school he was becoming a big film buff too. He’d order foreign DVDs in the mail that we couldn’t get at the rental place, show me every Michel Gondry music video he could find, and train me to look forward to the Super Bowl for the ads alone. He was an incredible big brother and he always made me feel welcome in his love for film, so I caught the bug too.

When I was applying to film school, he tragically lost his sight, a terrible side effect from radiation treatment for a brain tumor. It breaks a my heart a little bit that he hasn’t been able to see anything I’ve made since then, but I know he’s proud of me, and we still love listening to movies together with the descriptive audio on.

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

ME: The best advice was probably to fall in love with the process of whatever you’re making so you can be less invested in the result.

The worst was probably, “Mallory, no one wants to see three women just talking onstage.” Eye roll.

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

ME: Your work is for you, so bring yourself into it. Don’t abandon yourself to do it. Do whatever it takes to find an angle on the work that actually interests you because that’s when it really gets fun. It’s when we try to make the stuff we think we should make — or the stuff we think other people will want — that we really lose track of why we’re doing it in the first place.

Find your angle and even jobs you’re not crazy about can be interesting, and the work will be better too because a genuine piece of you came into it.

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

ME: Agh it’s cruel to ask for just one, so I’m going to give my top four! Amy Heckerling’s “Clueless” is one of my all-time favorites; it is such a funny, specific time capsule and was directed with such effortless style. Greta Gerwig’s “Little Women” made me weep for about 90 reasons, some of which I can barely articulate, but I felt deeply understood watching it. Olivia Wilde’s “Booksmart” is just about everything I could ever hope to achieve in a film — hilarious but still made with intention, incredible music, characters I won’t forget, and women women women.

And most recently Emerald Fennell’s “Promising Young Woman” genuinely made me want to burst out of my skin in the best possible way. She captured a deeply female pain and anger in a manner that was so unpredictable, gripping, and smart, all while making me laugh out loud more than any film has in a long time. Genius! She’s a genius. They all are.

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

ME: This is by no means a fresh perspective, but this year has taught me to focus on finding the small daily joys in my grasp instead of any kind of long-term expectations. For the introverted writer side of me, that day-to-day presence has helped massively. I find myself overthinking much less and sitting down to write just because I like doing it, which I’ve been delighted to discover. I actually like this.

But yeah, the extroverted actor side of me is genuinely losing her mind. She’s always about a millimeter away from making dolls out of her own hair or keeping an overly detailed bowel movement journal — okay, I actually did keep a journal like that last fall. Don’t judge me! It’s been a weird year! Ha!

W&H: The film industry has a long history of underrepresenting people of color onscreen and behind the scenes and reinforcing — and creating — negative stereotypes. What actions do you think need to be taken to make Hollywood and/or the doc world more inclusive?

ME: I’m very aware that I’m not the right person to answer this question, but I think it’s clear that the industry has not yet gone far enough in addressing its lack of diversity. We need more executives of color, directors of color, and head writers of color telling their own stories, hiring their own teams, and doing it all their way. And any of us with power or influence, even if it’s just a little bit, need to use it to make sure that happens. We can’t assume other people will do the work — we all need to operate like it won’t get done if we don’t do it ourselves.

And we shouldn’t do it out of fear of the PC police or the Twitter-mob-guillotine. It should be done because the world is more vibrant, interesting, and expansive when we get to hear everyone’s stories.

When I saw “Get Out,” my head exploded. There are a lot of reasons to be obsessed with that film, but the specificity of Jordan Peele’s perspective, particularly in a genre previously infamous for token Black people, made it historic. We need more of that specificity.

Empowering fresh perspectives is the only thing that will save Hollywood from a boring, formulaic, only-fund-it-if-we’ve-done-it-before-or-it-has-a-built-in-audience slow death.