“Good evening, everyone. Thank you for attending our thirty-sixth annual Shoreline Film Showcase.” The crowd whoops and hollers, me included, but Sean just stews with beads of sweat popping up on his forehead. “I’m Ms. Molina, and I can honestly say I’ve never been more blown away by my students’ projects than what this year’s crop has put together. That’s saying something, as our past alumni have gone on to be award-winning filmmakers, and I’m confident our ten entrants this year will go on to fill their shoes. When I put together this year’s theme, I was struck by the phenomenon of using real people as actors. Success of films like Chloé Zhao’s Nomadland has shown that sometimes the best people to play roles are the actual people whose lives are being explored to begin with. I asked my students to give us stories inspired by real life and starring the people who have lived those experiences. With that in mind, enjoy the show.”

The crowd loses it again, immediately followed by a wave of Shhhhh as the first film comes on screen. It opens on a woman pushing a fruit cart, walking from street to street as she sells mangoes and watermelon and listens to her customers’ problems. She has advice for some, is a listening ear for others, and through it all, you can feel the connection between everyone on screen. It’s touching, it’s heartfelt, it’s full community. It’s seven minutes of perfection. It’s going to be hard for any of the other students to compete. But as each new entry plays, they are all emotional and raw and real.

There’s a short about a baby learning to walk, showing the comedy and determination that comes with figuring out your muscles and legs (I can relate). There’s one about a singles night for elderly people whose spouses have passed away. It showcases the giddiness that comes from feeling those tingles of love again, and it’s so similar to the giddiness I’ve felt around Sean. Another follows a dog groomer picking up and bathing abandoned dogs and finding them new homes. For some reason it makes me think of Sean looking after me that day I washed up on his beach.

Each short is about the good of humanity, about helping and loving others, about living for people other than yourself. They completely fall in line with everything I’ve come to see in Sean. They show me that what I thought was a fluke isn’t all that rare. Sean isn’t the only good human out there. There are a lot of them. I just needed to open my eyes and look.

“Oh no,” Sean moans.

The next film starts and I jolt in my seat.

Because it’s my face on the screen.