Documentary shorts often find profundity in the unexpected, but few premises are quite as disarmingly funny as the one at the centre of Eructation. Premiering at the SXSW Film Festival in 2026, the debut film from writer-director Victoria Trow follows Kaylee Kotkins, a perinatal nurse with an unusual ambition: to break the world record for the loudest female burp. What begins as a seemingly absurd pursuit- chasing a record currently set at 107.3 decibels- gradually unfolds into something far richer. Blending sharp humour with genuine warmth, Eructation transforms a quirky challenge into a surprisingly thoughtful exploration of identity, confidence, and the freedom of embracing one’s most unconventional talents. I spoke with Trow about the origins of the film, collaborating with her neighbour Kaylee, and how a story that starts with a burp becomes something unexpectedly inspiring.

It’s such an unexpected premise for a documentary. How did you first discover Kayleigh and realise there was a film in her pursuit of the loudest burp record?

I first met Kayleigh in 2021 through a mutual friend. We were part of a wider social circle, the kind where you cross paths at parties, chatting, dancing, and slipping into those slightly offbeat, memorable conversations.

One evening, we were all gathered at a friend’s place, which had a small beach along a river on their land. Kayleigh grabbed a beer, downed it, and then let out this enormous burp that echoed across the water. It was genuinely impressive, so much so that I felt compelled to compliment her on it. When I did, she casually announced that she was planning to go for the world record for the loudest female burp.

Naturally, I had questions. She started explaining her process, how she practised, what kind of volume she needed to reach, and I was completely fascinated. It was such a strange, brilliant, and oddly compelling conversation that it stayed with me for days afterwards.

At the time, I’d been writing a lot and trying to pass ideas on to friends to direct. But this one felt different. After a bit of encouragement, ironically from the same friends I’d tried to hand it off to, I realised it might actually be something I should take on myself. And that’s really where it all began.

Wow that’s so interesting that it just kind of almost I guess fell into your lap almost

You could say it ruptured my eardrum.

“That partnership shaped how we approached the documentary, ensuring that she was represented in a way that felt authentic, comfortable, and true to who she is, while giving her the respect she absolutely deserves.“

On the surface, the film sounds absurd, but clearly has deeper themes about self-definition and ambition. When did you realise the story had almost emotional weight beyond the comedy?

From the outset, it felt like there was a clear distinction between simply having a talent and having the confidence to pursue it. What stood out about Kayleigh was her willingness to put herself out there and really go for it. Even in that first moment on the beach, she was already framing it as something worth exploring, saying, in effect, “I’ve got this talent, so why not see where it can take me?”

That sense of drive, that mix of curiosity and ambition, was there from the very beginning. Because of that, it felt natural to draw it out and build on it, as it was already such a defining part of her mindset.

You balance humour with sincerity really well. How did you approach portraying Kayleigh in a way that celebrates her rather than turning her story into a kind of joke? Burping is usually associated with being comical but you balance it so well. How did you do that?

It was something I was very conscious of from the beginning. The idea of making a documentary about burping naturally carries a certain humour, but it was important to me to approach it with a real sense of respect, particularly towards Kayleigh. She was taking it seriously, so it felt essential that we did the same.

A big part of that was involving her closely in the process. We met frequently, had lots of conversations, and made sure everything came from her perspective and her experience. I wanted her to feel completely at ease inviting us into her home and allowing us to film such a personal side of her life.

It became a genuine collaboration. That partnership shaped how we approached the documentary, ensuring that she was represented in a way that felt authentic, comfortable, and true to who she is, while giving her the respect she absolutely deserves.

“Making the transition into directing was both exciting and daunting. There was a lot I had to learn very quickly.“

This is your debut film after many years of working in advertising. What did stepping into documentary filmmaking allow you to explore that commercial work didn’t?

I’ve spent the past 15 years working as a copywriter and creative director in advertising, and for a long time I firmly saw myself as a writer rather than a director. Even as my role became more focused on creative direction, which naturally involves a strong visual element, I still tended to think of my work in purely written terms.

People had been encouraging me for years to make something of my own, but I often felt hesitant. I convinced myself I wasn’t particularly visual, that directing wasn’t something I could do. Looking back, that wasn’t really true. When I revisit my advertising scripts and portfolio, they’re actually very visually driven, often with minimal dialogue.

Making the transition into directing was both exciting and daunting. There was a lot I had to learn very quickly. For instance, I had no idea what a DCP was until a couple of months ago, the format required to screen a film in cinemas. When I finally received the files, I couldn’t even watch them at home. I had to rent out a cinema screen just to check everything worked properly, which ended up being an incredible experience, sitting there with just the projectionist and my film on the big screen.

Ultimately, it took a lot of encouragement from people around me to take that leap, and I’m grateful I had that support pushing me to step outside of what I thought my limits were.

The film is premiering at SXSW Festival. What does it mean for you to debut this film there?

I never set out to make this with film festivals in mind. It began as something personal, a way of testing whether I could actually direct. I wanted to create something that felt fun and distinctly my own, and that was the driving force behind it.

So having it recognised and screened at such a major festival is incredible. It’s a mix of excitement and nerves, if I’m honest. Part of that comes down to having to let go a little. I know the film works, it looks and sounds the way it should, and now it’s about allowing it to find its audience.

There’s something quite surreal about it as well. What started as a spontaneous moment on a beach in central Oregon is now being shown at South by Southwest to a full audience. It’s a bit unbelievable, but in the best possible way.

“There’s something compelling in that sense of mundanity, in letting small details and quiet moments carry weight, and that was something I was keen to bring into the film as well.“

The film itself has such like a quirky style to it. Did you take any inspiration from any other like filmmakers or any films that you admire to get that style?

There were a lot of influences behind the look and feel of the film, but a big part of shaping its style came from the colour palette. I wanted it to be rooted in the environment, drawing from Portland, Oregon and the atmosphere of that setting. Ironically, we ended up with two days of sunshine rather than the rain I’d hoped for, which is probably the first time I’ve ever found myself wishing for worse weather. Still, the light we got worked beautifully.

The palette was designed to reflect both the location and Kayleigh’s world, with deep greens from the surrounding evergreens and woods, contrasted with the reds of rugs and interiors, and the gold tones of her favourite beer. Everything visually was built around those elements.

In terms of references, Lady Bird was a key influence, particularly for its use of colour and tone. I was also inspired by an interview with Hiro Murai, where he deliberately avoided a traditional talking-head setup, instead placing himself at a distance within a wider, more active frame. That idea of allowing life to unfold around the subject, rather than constantly pushing in close, really stayed with me.

Another reference point was God’s Country by Louis Malle. I loved its patience and attention to everyday moments, those long, observational shots of ordinary actions. There’s something compelling in that sense of mundanity, in letting small details and quiet moments carry weight, and that was something I was keen to bring into the film as well.

What did making this film teach you about your own voice as a filmmaker?

I’ve been writing alongside my work in advertising for about ten years now, which still feels surreal to say. For a long time, much of what I was creating leaned towards darker, heavier material, so people who knew that side of my work were quite surprised to see me make a documentary about burping.

That said, some of those same friends have pointed out that it actually makes perfect sense. There’s a blend of absurdity and playfulness in it that really reflects my personality, particularly that sense of cheekiness I’m quite fond of.

Through making this film, I feel like I’ve developed a much clearer understanding of my own voice and tone. The work I’ve been writing since has naturally shifted more towards subtle comedy, which feels like a better fit. It’s that intersection between the absurd and the artful that really excites me, and I think discovering that balance has been a defining moment for how I want to approach my work going forward.

Do you think you’ll ever put any of your previous writing out into the world?

There’s one idea I keep returning to, something much more visceral and intense. It’s the kind of project that really lingers, and I imagine I’ll come back to it properly one day. For now, though, I’ve found myself drawn to work that feels more joyful.

This film arrived at exactly the right moment. I was feeling burnt out from advertising and had just left my job to focus on my own projects. It felt like the right time to step away and reclaim some energy for myself after spending so long creating for others.

At that point, I didn’t even know what I was going to make. Then this idea came along, and it’s been an unexpectedly rewarding experience. It’s reminded me how important it is to enjoy the process, and that’s something I’m keen to hold on to moving forward.

What’s next for you?

I do like ending on that slightly existential note, that moment of questioning what you’re doing and where you’re heading.

I recently took two months away from advertising to focus on writing, which was both difficult and uncomfortable, particularly having to turn down paid work. It’s not an easy decision to make, but I committed to it and made the most of that time. Over those two months, I completed a short, a television pilot, and a feature screenplay, so it felt like a worthwhile investment in myself.

Of course, the practical reality is that I’ll likely return to freelance advertising work to support myself. But ultimately, what I’d really like is to keep making my own projects and continue building on that momentum.

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.