Tag: The Lighter Side of Death

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New Zealand’s ‘coffin clubs’ bury taboos about death

Kevin Heyward poses next to his Austin car coffin that he made at the Coffin Club’s workshop

By Ryland JAMES

It’s a task of grave importance, but there’s nothing to stop New Zealanders having a laugh as they work on DIY caskets in the country’s “coffin clubs”.

Elderly club members meet for cups of tea, a bit of banter, and to literally put the final nail in one-of-a-kind coffins that will carry them to their eternal resting place.

Kevin Heyward plans to be sent off in a box resembling a vintage Austin Healey.

Registration plate: DEAD1A.

Kevin Heyward’s Austin car coffin is fully equipped with a mock steering wheel, windscreen, rubber wheels, wooden mudguards, painted-on side doors, and wing mirrors

“My daughter came up with the idea,” the 79-year-old car enthusiast said with a grin, brushing sawdust off his overalls.

It’s fully equipped with a mock steering wheel, windscreen, rubber wheels with metal hub caps, wooden mudguards, a bonnet, painted-on side doors, and wing mirrors.

“The trickiest part was getting the mudguards lined up because of their curve,” Heyward told AFP at the workshop of the Hawke’s Bay Coffin Club in Hastings.

The hefty casket, which can be carried with six wooden handles, even has working headlights. The batteries, naturally, are currently dead.

“It weighs quite a bit and I’m a big man,” he said.

“I have said to my six grandsons they had better start weight-training, because they will be carrying it one day,” Heyward chuckled.

“There is a bit of humour in this car.”

The club is one of four that have sprung up around New Zealand, with the first opening in 2010 in Rotorua on the country’s North Island.

Some clubs boast as many as 800 people on their books, though one admitted “not all of them are above ground”.

At the Hastings club, Jim Thorne, a spritely 75-year-old motorcycle fan, used his skills as a cabinet maker to build a casket painted with a motorbike track. It’s stored in his garage, alongside a collection of motorbikes.

Thorne said most friends “are a little aghast and say ‘why are you doing that?'” when they hear about his coffin-making hobby. 

“Apart from the fact that I like the look of mine, it’s my input into my final days.”

– ‘Dying to get a coffin?’ –

“There is a certain mindset in some people that this is almost a taboo subject that they find very, very difficult to talk about,” Thorne said.

“They tend to overcome it. At the end of the day, it’s a reality of life, unfortunately.”

Elderly club members meet for cups of tea, a bit of banter, and to literally put the final nail in one-of-a-kind coffins

He breaks the ice with newcomers by asking: “Are you dying to get a coffin?”

But the club’s atmosphere is far from morbid.

Banter flows during the morning tea break as members chat over scones and hot drinks.

“We’re a bit unique, but we are happy. There are always lots of jokes,” said club secretary Helen Bromley.

Most members are seniors. The club provides a space to open up about death and dying during weekly meetups.

“I think everybody here has accepted that they are going to die, whether they’re decorating their coffin or helping others with theirs,” Bromley said.

“We’re a club that tries to empower people to plan their coffin, to plan what happens if they get sick.”

She said some members want to spare relatives the burden of meeting rising funeral costs. The club will also build and decorate coffins for grieving families. 

Coffin Club organiser Helen Bromley works on the lining of a coffin

On average, a funeral in New Zealand costs around NZ$10,000 (US$6,200), according to the national funeral directors association. 

Coffin prices range from NZ$1,200 to NZ$4,000.

– ‘Remember Me’ –

For a NZ$30 membership, the Hastings club gives each new member a pressed-wood coffin in one of three designs, ready to be decorated.

The coffins come in four sizes, each costing around NZ$700, extra for paint and a cloth lining.

During a tea break, Bromley announced that a member suffering from cancer was in intensive care after a fall. Her brother had asked the club to finish her coffin as a priority.

The club also builds ash boxes, which they sell to the local crematorium, and small coffins for infants, which they give away.

“The midwives and nurses at Hastings hospital have asked us to not ever, ever stop making the little coffins for them,” Bromley said.

“We donate to whoever. If there’s a miscarriage at home and they want a coffin, we donate.”

Members help knit blankets, teddy bears, pillows and hearts to go in the infants’ coffins.

Committee member Christina Ellison, 75, lost an infant daughter in 1968 and said she was comforted to know the club helps other families grieving the loss of a child. 

“The little baby coffins are so beautiful and done with so much care. The knitting that the ladies do is incredible,” she said.

Ellison is moving away soon and plans to take her coffin, which has been painted a blue-grey colour called “Remember Me”.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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I Was Looking The Other Way When Death Surprised Me

— I didn’t see him coming.

By Christine Schoenwald

I’d heard about Pattie before I’d ever met hershe was a psychic.

My friend Lissa had done a one-woman show and had talked about her psychic. Since Lissa was the owner of a theater, soon, everyone was going to see Pattie, who wasn’t only a psychic but an empath.

I had to check out Pattie’s skills for myself and made an appointment. Pattie lived in the same town as me but on a cul de sac further up in the hills. It was remote enough that deer came into her garden and ate her flowers, but not so far that she didn’t get trick-or-treaters.

Walking into Pattie’s house as she requested, I felt strange, and I always knocked and called out when I entered. She usually had four or five cats sleeping in boxes scattered throughout her living room.

Pattie was seated at a table in a little room with a cat in her lap and a tumbler full of iced tea at her side. She was a large woman with vivid blue eyes and a warm smile.

She enjoyed her work and loved people, and she didn’t fear the spirit world as she often communicated with them.

My mother has been dying for months; I have a cat with a brain tumor and another cat who is getting up there in years. When any of them die, it won’t be a surprise. I’ll be as ready as one can be.

What I wasn’t ready for was the death of someone outside of those three.

But Death is a trickster and hates to be predictable. He refuses to operate on anyone else’s timetable and does what he pleases.

I found out as I was waiting for my mother to die that Death came along and took my friend, Pattie, to the hereafter.

When I heard from a mutual friend that Pattie was in the hospital — it didn’t sound especially serious.

She was in her seventies, had Multiple Sclerosis (MS), and had some health issues this past year, but Pattie was also the most positive person I know, and she was resilient. She’d gone into the hospital on a Thursday, and I fully expected her to be out by Monday, laughing about the experience.

After my initial consultation, I saw Pattie regularly for a few years.

I’d crack the both of us up with my opening questions, “What do you hear?”

What were the spirits telling her that I needed to know?

Besides her psychic abilities, Pattie could read people, and much of the time, it felt like she was reading me more than she was getting info from the great beyond.

I also encouraged her to use the tarot cards with me as I felt the cards gave structure to our sessions and gave the proceedings a gravitas. The tarot cards made me feel she was being guided, not making things up on the spot.

Eventually, I couldn’t rationalize paying a bunch of money to an unlicensed therapist, but we stayed friends.

We went to a couple of dinner theater productions, and out to eat (which was challenging after she had weight-loss surgery,) talked on the phone, and sent texts and cards.

She was immensely proud and supportive of my writing, and I shared my favorite stories with her. She was one of my supplemental mothers who loved me unconditionally and always remembered my birthday.

I said before that she was an upbeat person — someone who made the best out of a tough situation.

One time, Pattie fell down the escalator at Target. Rather than being embarrassed, she befriended the paramedics, asking their names, finding out their stories, and making them laugh as they loaded her onto a stretcher and into the ambulance.

I thought this time in the hospital would be another event, but it turned into a funny anecdote about how Pattie had charmed even the snottiest surgeon or caused all the nurses to fall in love with her.

“I don’t know if this is the right thing to do or say,” my friend Poppy said, “but Pattie is dead. She died in her sleep.”

Yes, Pattie died how I wanted my mother to go — peacefully and in her sleep.

Death had gotten his wires crossed, or maybe it was deliberate on his part.

Why now?

Pattie loved Christmas and would often decorate her house to maximum Christmasness. I sent her a Christmas card last week and wished her a happy and healthy New Year.

I’m not ready to mourn her — my grief has already been parceled out. I’m at full capacity, and yet, I do grieve because not grieving is the same as not being grateful for knowing her and having someone as kind and good as she was in my life.

How often have Lissa, Poppy, and I discussed arranging a group lunch date with Pattie? We always put it off for when we weren’t so busy or for other silly reasons.

We thought there’d be plenty of time to get together — we didn’t know Death was lurking nearby.

Pattie may be gone, but I’m not ready to say goodbye.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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‘The Good Death’: Communications Expert Approaches End-of-Life Discussions With Humor

— Communications Expert Approaches End-of-Life Discussions With Humor

Sitting neatly on Christian Seiter’s desk is a pair of salt and pepper shakers shaped like gravestones, each one with its own inscription: “Here lies salt” and “Here lies pepper.” 

Surrounded by death-inspired trinkets and memorabilia, the assistant professor of human communications at Cal State Fullerton calls himself a “death positive scholar” interested in studying end-of-life communication. His research analyzes how different emotions — such as worry and humor — impact people’s willingness to confront their mortality.

By understanding the power of these communication strategies, Seiter’s goal is to encourage people to talk about death and help them work toward what he calls “the good death.”

“Death comes for us all, as harrowing as that can be. Pretending that it’s not going to happen isn’t going to help anybody. In fact, failing to prepare could make the worst day of your loved one’s life unnecessarily worse,” said Seiter. “When time is running short, the gifts that we give are almost all communication-based — things like communicating clearly about what wishes you would want.”

Using Humor to Face Mortality

According to Seiter, planning for a person’s death includes three main steps: reflecting on one’s values and beliefs about the end-of-life, sharing those wishes with loved ones through conversation and formalizing those wishes with documentation, such as advance directives.

Advance care directives include living wills which outline a person’s decisions for medical treatment if they are no longer able to express informed consent, and designating a health care proxy to make medical decisions if a person is unable.

For many, especially young and healthy people, these steps can seem unnecessary or premature, but Seiter said that preparing for the end of someone’s life is similar to packing a spare tire before a long road trip. It’s better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it.

“It’s pretty easy to convince someone who is elderly or someone who’s very ill that this is relevant, but it’s a lot harder to convince college students that they’re not immortal,” he said.

Since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, Seiter said that death anxiety has significantly increased. He explained that the constant reminder of death has deterred people from seeking information about end-of-life care.

In a study he conducted in 2020, Seiter found that worry can be used as a mechanism to influence people to take an active role in planning for the end of their life, but in response to the pandemic and high levels of demotivation, he’s interested in another approach to discussing death — humor.

“Humor has the ability to make conversations about death more accessible for everybody,” said Seiter. 

Christian Seiter
Christian Seiter, assistant professor of human communications

This semester, he is working on a research project that evaluates how different levels of humor in a podcast impact listeners’ ability to talk about death and seek out end-of-life precautions. In three podcasts, the speakers talk about advance care planning, but aside from a control episode, one episode adds humor and the third includes humor with profanity.

He is still analyzing the data, but historically, profanity in the death positive movement has been a popular method of encouraging young people to engage with such topics as last wishes and advance care.

Despite Seiter’s best intentions, he knows that there are a lot of reasons why people postpone thinking about their death. For some people, it’s fear that talking about it will invite death into their lives.

No matter the reason, Seiter said it’s important to think about the bigger picture and the additional heartbreak that loved ones could be spared if these conversations occur before it’s too late.

“I’m always amazed by the stories that I hear of people talking about how some of the best days of their lives were some of the last days of their lives because they don’t have to worry about the next steps. Everything is already in place, and they can focus on saying goodbye and leaving with peace,” said Seiter. “Clarity is maybe the greatest gift you could give your loved ones.”

Not everyone is as fascinated with death as Seiter, but there are ways that they can begin to have these conversations in informal and low-risk settings. He said that the first step is to start thinking about one’s mortality and deciding who they would trust to act on their behalf. After discussing those answers with loved ones, people can fill out an advance care directive online without the help of a lawyer.

“I think it’s important for us to step into places of constructive discomfort,” he said. “I’m a big proponent of approaching it with healthy curiosity. If you are curious about it, don’t stifle that. Don’t let societal taboos or myths stop you, and don’t judge yourself for being curious.”

Becoming Death Positive

Seiter found his niche in end-of-life communication as an actor studying medical humanities and bioethics at the University of Rochester School of Medicine and Dentistry. His original goal was to design a theater-based workshop that taught participants clinical empathy. During his program, his adviser sent him to the palliative care unit, and the experience altered his perception of death permanently.

“When I stepped into the very first patient room, I almost fainted and I had to excuse myself. It’s not something that came easily,” said Seiter. “After I composed myself and received a pep talk from my mentor, I reframed the experience and was able to have some of the most meaningful weeks of my life. That’s where I fell in love with the idea of ‘the good death.’”

From that moment on, he shifted his interest away from theater and began his career in academia, conducting research and engaging students with this topic of death.

He brings his expertise into the classroom at CSUF, teaching classes on health communication, processes of social influence and persuasion as well as interpersonal communication and research methods.

“Many people don’t want to admit that we are all a little curious about this, and yet, you would never know because nobody wants to talk about it,” said Seiter. “Especially with COVID-19, we’ve all been living with death very intimately for several years and giving people an avenue to talk about it is a really valuable thing.”

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Making death conversations fun!

“Arriving at an acceptance of one’s mortality is a process, not an epiphany.”
– Atul Gawande

By Althea Halchu

Imagine a group of old (mature) friends gathered for a “girls” weekend in balmy Florida. The friendships started in grammar school and have continued for the better part of 50 years. These women have met at least once a year for more than 25 years and shared life’s ups and downs. On this trip, one of the women pulls out a deck of cards called Talk of a Lifetime, and the play begins. I don’t have to imagine, they were my cards and my friends, and we spent the evening sipping wine, taking turns uncovering questions from the deck, discussing end-of-life topics, and laughing! We learned much about each other’s life and end-of-life goals that night. Who would have thought talking about death could be so much fun?

Conversations with loved ones and providers are crucial to the advanced care planning process. In a recent AARP survey of 2,000 adults, “54 percent had not completed a medical power of attorney or advance care directive, and a whopping 62 percent of those said they had not gotten around to it; 15 percent said they did not know how; and 13 percent said they did not like talking about these things.”

Here is a fun solution for those who have their head in the sand. The following games are designed to help people have those conversations in a painless and fun way. Try them out over the mashed potatoes or wine at your next family gathering.

1. Talk of a Lifetime. Created by the National Funeral Directors Association offers 50 cards with 50 questions to help you learn more about your loved ones. Players share stories about life, the things that matter most, and how they want to be remembered.

2. Hello Game is the easy, non-threatening way to start a conversation with your family and friends about living and dying and what matters most to you.

3. Go Wish gives you an easy, even entertaining way to talk about what is most important to you. The cards help you find words to talk about what is important if you were to be living a life that may be shortened by serious illness.

4. The Death Deck is a party game that lets you explore a topic we’re all obsessed with but often afraid to discuss, DEATH. With a playful tone and a sense of humor, The Death Deck is a game and tool that allows friends and family members to open up and share thoughts, stories, and preferences about life and death in a non-threatening and surprisingly fun way. Players partner up to guess answers to deep, funny, and sometimes weird questions on death. With 112 cards and numerous ways to play, The Death Deck encourages lively conversations and life-changing dialogue.

5. Heart to Heart Cards game is designed to make it easier for a family member, a caregiver, or a health provider to understand what a loved one wants through the EOL. Each card is in English and Chinese and is designed to help reach Chinese-speaking community members. However, they can be used by healthy individuals who want family members or friends to know what they would like when their lives may be threatened by injury or disease.

6. Heart2Hearts: Advance Care Planning cards provide 52 conversation starters about advanced care planning. Be prepared to have the most meaningful conversation of your life. Playing, completing the innovative workbook, and discussing it with your loved ones will give them a priceless gift…peace of mind. They will know your wishes and can follow them if you cannot make health care decisions yourself.

7. Elephant in the Room is a set of 96 cards in 4 categories of scenarios and questions for discussion. Each individual can confirm their preferences, enhance communication with their family and health care team, provide time for family and other loved ones to understand decisions, and relieve uncertainty or guilt about decision-making. These are personal conversations, not medical consultations, and they will require a loving commitment of time and attention from all involved.

8. Death Conversation Game facilitates open thinking and conversations on death in safe, respectful environments of chosen friends, family, students, clients, colleagues, or strangers. The depth and breadth of the conversation depend on you. Whether it’s death-related theology, ideology, metaphysics, bookish details, relationship considerations, bereavement, and a number of other subjects. Available online only through Apple or Android.

9. GraveTalk from the Church of England offers 50 unique cards for use in small groups, each with a thought-provoking question to start the end-of-life conversation.

Life: What is important in your life? How would you like to be remembered?

Death: What experiences of death have you had so far? What do you think death means?

Funerals: What will happen when you die? Do you need to make any plans or choices now?

Let the games and conversations begin!

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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The best medicine?

Humour can be a double-edged part of grieving

For people who have recently lost a loved one, humour can trigger episodes of intense grief–but it can also help in the recovery process, according to a new study.

A University of Alberta study uncovers an often-overlooked trigger for both grief and healing in people coping with the loss of a loved one.

By Gillian Rutherford

When Donna Wilson pulled up to visit her aunt and uncle on their farm near Eatonia, Sask., a few years ago, she came across a comical scene: Her uncle Doug was running around the yard chasing turkeys. The birds kept jumping up on his dog and he was trying to shoo them away with a broom.

It’s a memory Wilson plans to remind her aunt Doreen of soon. Doug died over the winter, and her aunt is grieving. Wilson hopes that sharing a funny story about him will help them both.

“I loved my uncle Doug, and I remember he was always smiling and laughing about something,” said Wilson. “Hopefully we will laugh together and it will be healing.”

Wilson, a nursing professor at the University of Alberta, recently published study findings that show humour can trigger moments of intense grief for people who have recently lost a loved one, but humour can also be helpful in the recovery process.

The key–as always with humour–is timing, plus you’ve got to know your audience, says Wilson.

The study was part of a larger inquiry into grief triggers–thoughts, memories, or events like anniversaries and family gatherings, special places, songs, even jokes. Very little research has been done on triggers and how bereaved people manage them, Wilson says, but they can be incapacitating.

“You can be driving past the hospital where your husband died, and suddenly have a massive grief trigger and have to pull over,” she said. “Now think about if that’s a pilot who’s flying a plane, or a surgeon, or a truck driver going down the highway.”

Working through the stages of grief

Researchers report there are nearly 300,000 deaths each year in Canada and on average 10 people grieve each death. For the study, Wilson and her team did in-depth interviews with 10 middle-aged and older Canadians who had lost a parent, child, sibling or spouse within the past two years, asking about their experiences with grief and recovery.

They all described being completely overwhelmed by grief at first, then being frequently hit by “hard-grief” triggers. Most found a way to reshape their lives without the loved one after about a year, and over the next year they were able to welcome good memories of the deceased person without triggered episodes of crying or extreme sadness. Eight of the 10 interview subjects said humour helped with their recovery.

“I think nobody realized humour is present for our mental health, even in grief,” said Begoña Errasti-Ibarrondo, associate professor with the University of Navarra and a visiting academic at the U of A. “In Spain, for example, at funerals sometimes we make jokes if it is appropriate and we tell funny stories about the person or the tricks they used to play.”

“Humour is what made it possible for me to live,” said one interview subject quoted in the paper. “I looked forward to the times I could laugh or smile; I could get a break from my grief.”

Researchers say when you are supporting someone who is grieving it is important to talk to them about the person who died. However, they caution it’s best to check first with the bereaved person before turning to humour, as some may not be ready or may find it inappropriate.

“Grief is very personal and so is humour,” said Errasti-Ibarrondo.

The saying “laughter is the best medicine” dates back to the King James Bible, originally published in 1611. We now know laughter releases endorphins and positive hormones that contribute to physical and mental health.

For her part, Wilson will continue to remember how her uncle Doug liked to use humour to cope with the frustrations of daily life. Once he was planning to take his family out for a drive when he noticed one of his car tires was deflated. “Well, at least it’s only flat on one side,” he told them with a laugh.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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How ‘I’m Dead’ Became a Good Thing

Dying of laughter is an exaggeration, but something about it has rung true over the centuries.

By Caleb Madison

On a literal level, it should be impossible to make sense of someone saying “I’m dead” unless you’re attending a successful séance. Yet here we are in 2022, not only proclaiming our own expiration but reveling in it. Far from speech beyond the grave, “I’m dead” has come to communicate one of the highest pleasures of life: the giddy throes of uncontrollable laughter. When someone says “I’m dead” or even just “dead” in 2022, they’re telling you that they couldn’t be more tickled by what just happened. So how did being dead become a good thing?

Death and laughter have been strange bedfellows since ancient Greece, where, legend has it, the fifth-century-B.C. painter Zeuxis died from laughing at the portrait he was painting of a supposedly ugly old woman—a hilarious anecdote later immortalized in an equally hilarious painting by the Dutch master Arent De Gelder. And Zeuxis’s isn’t the only classically depicted death by laughter. The Stoic philosopher Chrysippus, by several accounts, kicked the bucket because he couldn’t stop laughing after witnessing a donkey eating his figs. Bizarrely, King Martin I of Aragon is said to have died laughing at a joke also concerning an animal eating figs. Legends of giggly demises litter history; as recently as 1989, a Danish audiologist is said to have passed away guffawing during a screening of A Fish Called Wanda. Apparently, the best medicine is also sometimes the sweetest poison. Although I admit it would be a great way to go, I myself will be avoiding all zoo-adjacent fig farms in the near future out of an abundance of caution.

The connection between death and laughter was consummated in English by—who else?—Shakespeare. In his comedy The Taming of the Shrew, after the exit of the vivacious and eccentric couple Petruchio and Katharine, Petruchio’s servant, Grumio, says, “Went they not quickly, I should die with laughing.” From then on, the phrase to die laughing was part of the language as a hyperbolic idiom—we all know it’s an exaggeration, but something within the fiction rings true to our relationship with laughter and death. The fatal violence of hilarity proliferated in English over the following centuries. From the 1930s slang to bust a gut to the idea of being “in stitches” to the ironic Catcher in the Rye Holden Caulfield–ism “That killed me,” there’s something about the experience of uncontrollable laughing that seems to put us into close contact with our inevitable nonexistence.

And it makes sense. Intense laughter expresses itself in violent convulsions and temporary loss of bodily control. Who among us hasn’t been part of a tickle-fest that verged on sadomasochistic brutality? Times when I laugh so hard that I cry can feel like an out-of-body experience—a sublime mania that temporarily relieves me of the burden of consciousness. Perhaps we say “I’m dead” because we’ve intuited that deep and frenzied laughter gives us a taste of the eternal unknown toward which we’re all always hurdling. This sense of comatose comicality yielded our Friday-level clue “That’s so funny I can’t even function.”

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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A Comedy About Death

– KnifeRock’s ‘Moon Manor’ Official Trailer

by

“If I can’t be me – and I mean everything that that means – I just don’t want to be.” Good Deed Ent. has revealed an official trailer for Moon Manor, a “comedy about death” made by the filmmaking duo known as “KnifeRock” (Erin Granat & Elizabeth Brissenden). This first premiered last year at a festival, and will be dropping on VOD starting in March to watch. Today is Jimmy’s last day alive. His Alzheimer’s is worsening, so he’s decided to die like he has lived – with intention, humor, and zest. In his last day on Earth, Jimmy will show an obituary writer, his death doula, his estranged brother, his caretaker, a surreal being, and guests at his fabulous “FUN-eral”, that perhaps the art of living is the art of dying. It’s “inspired by a true-ish story.” The film also marks the first original score by Coldplay producers The Dream Team. Moon Manor stars Jim Carrozo as Jimmy, with Debra Wilson, Richard Riehle, Lou Taylor Pucci, Reshma Gajjar, Galen Howard, Ricki Lake, and Heather Morris. Looks so wacky and fun and clever and fresh! I dig it.

Sometimes learning how to live, is learning how to die. On his last day alive, Jimmy (Jim Carrozo) will show his estranged brother, a salt-of-the-earth caretaker, sharp-witted death doula, an obituary writer, a cosmic being, and the guests at his FUNeral that sometimes the art of living just may be the art of dying. An exploration of what it means to have a “good death” and inspired by the life stories of 84-year-old lead actor James Carrozo. Moon Manor is co-written and co-directed by filmmakers Erin Granat & Machete Bang Bang (aka Elizabeth Brissenden – director on the series “I.R.L.”), collectively known as “KnifeRock”, both making their feature directorial debut after a few short films previously. Produced by John Humber, Bay Dariz, Erin Granat & Machete Bang Bang. Featuring a score by Coldplay producers The Dream Team. This first premiered at the 2021 Atlanta Film & Video Festival last year. Good Deed will debut Moon Manor in select US theaters + on VOD starting March 11th, 2022 coming up soon. Drop by the film’s official site.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!