Behind the Wheel of The Truck: Liz Rao on Her Oscar-Qualifying Short Produced by Spike Lee and Joan Chen

Acclaimed director Liz Rao is making waves with her new Oscar-qualifying short film, The Truck, produced by Spike Lee and Joan Chen. The film follows a Chinese American teen and her boyfriend as they navigate the challenges of trying to buy the morning-after pill in post-Roe America, blending tension, humour, and sharp social insight. In this interview, Rao shares the inspiration behind the story, the creative process of bringing such a timely and personal narrative to life, and what it was like collaborating with two of cinema’s most influential producers.

Where did the idea for this film come from?

I grew up outside Nashville, Tennessee, and later in Chicago, so I experienced both the American South and Midwest. After Roe v. Wade was overturned, I began imagining what it must be like to be a teenager in America today. When I started writing the story and sharing my personal inspiration with friends, I realised that many of them had children who’d gone through similar experiences—not identical, but close. They spoke about being teenagers deeply in love, completely absorbed in their own romances, only to be confronted by larger realities beyond their control. The story grew from that tension—the way patriarchal structures weigh on all of us, including both people in a relationship. That’s really where the original idea came from.

Did you take any inspiration from other films or filmmakers when creating this film?

Yes, the cinematographer Gianna Badiali and I are both passionate about shooting on location and using natural light. We’re also big admirers of Kelly Reichardt’s work—Wendy and Lucy in particular. It’s such a beautiful film: simple yet incredibly intense, following Wendy’s journey to find Lucy. The way Reichardt uses real locations and natural lighting really resonated with us. We’re also both inspired by Justine Kurland’s photography, especially her depictions of youth in America and the outskirts of rural, untamed places. That aesthetic of raw, authentic environments heavily influenced our approach to shooting The Truck.

Your actors in this film are incredible. What was your casting process like and how did you settle on these incredible actors?

Yes, I felt incredibly lucky. I worked with amazing casting directors, Kate Antonini and Charlotte Arnault, and it was thanks to them that Shirley Chen and Daniel Zolghadri were both on our radar from the very beginning. Both Shirley and Daniel are incredibly strong lead actors, each having already carried their own independent features—Shirley in Beast Beast and Daniel in Funny Pages. I fell in love with their talent immediately and felt so fortunate that they agreed to join the project. Interestingly, they didn’t meet until the day before our first shoot. Due to location, budget, and scheduling, the first scene we shot was the bedroom scene. We had rehearsed with an intimacy coordinator to build their rapport, but the moment the cameras rolled, they jumped right in. Their chemistry was instant and natural—they gave so much to each other on screen, making the performances feel effortless and authentic.

“I felt it was really important to first ground the film in that nostalgic, universal experience of teenage love. We drew on classic Americana imagery—the dirt roads, the telephone poles—things I grew up around.“

Your work is described as embracing both the romance and peril of Americana. How does the truck embody that duality?

I felt it was really important to first ground the film in that nostalgic, universal experience of teenage love. We drew on classic Americana imagery—the dirt roads, the telephone poles—things I grew up around. Gianna Badiali, the cinematographer, is from Switzerland, so when we scouted locations together in Tennessee, that environment naturally seeped into both of our visual languages. As the story unfolds, it begins to complicate that idyllic imagery. When we premiered at Telluride, Gregory Nava, the curator and a great filmmaker himself, remarked that while there wasn’t a horror film in the shorts category that year, The Truck felt almost like one in its tension. For me, the film blends where I grew up with my perspective as an outsider in Tennessee and Chicago, subverting the familiar beauty of the landscapes with the unexpected events that befall the characters.

Why did you feel a coming-of-age thriller was the right genre lens to tell this film through rather than something more dramatic or political?

I really wanted the film to focus moment by moment on Jo, the protagonist, and her experience within the relationship. I could have included many more scenes or plot points, but my aim was to use the short film format to put the audience directly in her shoes and let them feel the immediate consequences of her choices. I didn’t want the film to feel preachy or driven solely by a political agenda. Instead, I wanted it to be a story that draws people in—something they can’t look away from, that immerses them in her world, even as it deals with serious, complex issues.

I noticed the boyfriend’s role often gets overlooked in reproductive rights storytelling. What did you want to explore through his perspective and choices in the film?

Yes, that’s a great question. For me, when we approach a film with a strong female lead, we naturally expect it to be her story—and it is. But part of her story is also how the larger patriarchal system affects her boyfriend. The consequences of that system on him, in turn, impact their relationship. They’re both navigating these entrenched power structures, and while she is actively struggling against them, he has his own challenges as well. I think that dynamic takes her by surprise and, in a way, helps her understand her own journey even more.

I thought it was really interesting to see it from his perspective as well because personally when I see films like Never Really Sometimes Always it is just from the female point of view so I thought it was really interesting to see it from both perspectives of the relationship in this film

Absolutely! I love that you brought that up. I just wrote to Eliza Hittman to see if she might want to screen our films together.

What role does the truck itself play in your film symbolically? Did its presence shape how you structured tension or pacing in the film at all?

I originally wrote this in class during my time at NYU Graduate Film. Todd Solondz has his famous five-minute class exercise, and I started with the truck scene. It’s a fantastic way to structure writing because it forces you to get straight to the essence of what you’re trying to explore. Once I had that climax scene on paper, the rest of the process was about finding the right build-up—making sure the moment felt earned and realistic, not overdone, but also not shying away from the issues at the heart of the story.

“Once we break down the barriers of shame and guilt—the very dynamics of power that the truck driver imposes—audiences are able to engage in meaningful dialogue about their own encounters with power.“

What has the reaction been from audiences who live in the states where access to reproductive care is restricted?

The response has been incredible—both at Telluride and at other festivals, including the Hamptons and Florida Film Festival. Younger audiences, particularly high school and college-aged women, have had a really strong emotional reaction to the film. It’s so close to reality, so intense, that it can feel almost too real, too raw. For me, it’s been incredibly satisfying to see the film start conversations about these experiences. Once we break down the barriers of shame and guilt—the very dynamics of power that the truck driver imposes—audiences are able to engage in meaningful dialogue about their own encounters with power. That ability to open up and unearth these shared, almost primal memories has been deeply moving.

Your executive producers on this film are Spike Lee and Joan Chan. They’re very well known in the film industry. How did they shape this film?

I’m so happy and thankful that they came on as executive producers for our Oscars campaign. You know, it’s a little film that could, so we’re really happy to have their participation. When I showed the film to Spike Lee he was reacting in every scene. I asked him to be the executive producer for this film and he replies “is the Pope Catholic? Did the Pope go to Villanova?” Joan Chen is such an icon, and she has fundamentally changed what’s possible for Asian American women on screen. Having their voices behind the film has been incredibly exciting. As for advice, I’ve been fortunate to have Spike Lee as a mentor for several years, and his approach to artistic influence has been invaluable. He’s never the type to say, “Don’t watch that film or it’ll affect your voice.” Instead, he encourages leaning into inspiration—treating it as a homage rather than something to avoid. He champions the idea of taking your heroes, uplifting them, and engaging in a creative dialogue with them, and that mindset has really shaped how I approach my own work.

What conversations are you hoping audience members are having after seeing this film?

I just want the film to open up space for people to talk about their own experiences and spark conversations about what it’s like today to navigate access and discussions about bodies with their partners. Any conversation is a good conversation, in my view. The more people bring their own perspectives to it, the happier I am. It’s really touching, and I think everyone will have their own take—but that’s exactly why this film is so important.

What is next for you in your career and how have you found the Oscars journey with this film?

The campaigning has been really enjoyable—I’m meeting so many interesting people I wouldn’t have crossed paths with otherwise. At the same time, I’m developing two feature films. One is set in a similar Chinese-American community in the American South, inspired by real events and a bit darker in tone, but still with plenty of humour. The other is a comedy set in China, which I’m very excited to bring to life.

As The Truck continues to make waves on the festival circuit and earns its Oscar-qualifying status, Liz Rao’s voice as a filmmaker is unmistakably bold, empathetic, and deeply attuned to the realities of today’s youth. With the support of mentors like Spike Lee and trailblazing figures like Joan Chen, Rao is carving out a space for stories that are at once personal, urgent, and universally resonant. As audiences around the world discover The Truck, it’s clear that her storytelling not only sparks conversation but also leaves a lasting emotional impact—cementing her as a filmmaker to watch.

Megan Hilborne (Instagram: meghillbilly) is a freelance writer and film critic based in Portsmouth. She graduated with a degree in Film in 2020 and has continued her study of the medium in her day-to-day life. She takes particular interest in indie, horror, feminist and queer cinema.