This year’s Slamdance Film Festival saw director Erin Brown Thomas present the pilot episode of the series Chasers. The pilot primarily focuses on Sophia (played by Ciarra Krohne) and how she is trying to navigate through her life. The series delves into the relentless grind of Hollywood’s dream-chasers, exposing the dark side of ambition, the cost of success, and the mental and emotional toll of an industry built on perseverance and sacrifice. We caught up with Erin Brown Thomas, Ciarra Krohne, and Brooke Maroon to talk about the series and the themes it explores.
The Interview with Erin Brown Thomas, Ciarra Krohne, and Brooke Maroon
[Editor’s Note: This interview has been lightly edited for clarity.]
Aayush Sharma: Ciarra, your character Sophia is navigating both creative ambition and personal relationships, mirroring the struggles of many young artists. How much of your own experience informed this role, and where did you take artistic liberties?
Ciarra Krohne: I think a lot of my own experience played a role—moving to a new city for the first time to pursue what I love, meeting people, and being in an environment where I attended big parties filled with incredible individuals doing amazing things. It was both exciting and overwhelming. Because of that, it was easy to draw from my experiences and weave them into Sophia’s life and world. The connection felt natural, making everything feel very real to me.
Aayush Sharma: Billy Joel is a standout character, bringing a unique energy to the ensemble. But your character is also one of the very few characters who brings a certain kind of calmness even when chaotic things are taking place at the party. How did you approach shaping her personality, and what do you think she represents within the larger themes of the pilot?
Brooke Maroon: That’s such a cool observation that you made—I love that. I’m glad you caught that. Okay, to go towards your second question, I think Billy Joel brings this calm, grounded energy because she’s been doing it for so long. She’s been auditioning, booking work, and going through the motions, but at this point, she’s kind of over it. She’s just burnt out by all of it. I can relate to that in some ways—obviously not on the same level as Billy Joel—but in the sense of being in L.A., going to so many auditions, hearing “no” countless times, and only hearing “yes” a few times. You have to keep finding that spark, that reason why you love doing this, because if you don’t, it starts to fade. During the pilot, Billy Joel has lost that spark a little. She’s searching for it. She’s struggling to make rent on her own and trying to figure out where she’s going to live, even though, ironically, she’s probably the most actively working person at this party. It just goes to show that no matter how long you’re on this journey—even people who are series regulars on your favorite shows—they might still be struggling or unsure if they’ll have a job next month.
It gives you perspective—you realize, I better love this if I’m going to keep doing it, because the struggle never ends. And Billy Joel embodies that. She’s surrounded by people who are still excited, still caught up in the thrill of it, going to all the parties. But Billy Joel is just like, ‘All right, whatever. We’ll see what happens’.
Aayush Sharma: The house party setting feels chaotic yet meticulously orchestrated. How did you maintain spontaneity while keeping control over such a dense, lived-in environment?
Erin Brown Thomas: I think so much of that came from the work that Ciarra and I did together during the scripting process. We really tried to think about the types of characters and the types of conversations. And honestly, we kept coming back to one question. The original title of Chasers was Little White Lies—that’s the title we shot under before changing it. But we kept asking ourselves for each character we introduced: What is the lie they believe that allows them to keep moving forward? We knew for Ciarra’s character, Sophia, that—spoiler, spoiler, spoiler—if she could just make Jacob her boyfriend, then she didn’t go through an abusive situation. That was her lie. And we wanted a version of that lie for every other character. You were correct in noticing the difference with Billy Joel because we used her as a foil. She was the only one aware of the lie and unwilling to move forward. We also used her at the midpoint as a kind of warning—Listen, I don’t throw my pearls at pigs. If you don’t want to take it, you don’t have to take it.
All these different characters were our starting point. We were also lucky to do follow-up drafts in the house. We wrote the first draft in my house, but once we knew we’d be shooting in a house Ciarra was renting with her family, we got into that space and started walking through it. That helped us understand how long it would take to walk from one room to another, ensuring our walk-and-talk conversations didn’t have awkward pauses. A lot of it was writing for a location while also writing for a mix of characters we created and people we knew. Dexter Farren is a great example—Ciarra and I had spent time with him at a workshop, and I had worked with him before. He’s much more earnest than Dex from the script, but he has a snarky sense of humor we knew would translate well on screen. Amber, who plays Amber—yes, we named people after themselves when we cast them. The DP who falls into the pool? That scene was written for her, knowing her personality and her own department-head version of a casting couch.
I think the biggest takeaway for anyone wanting to create something vibrant and authentic is to ask yourself: Who are the really interesting performers in my life? and What’s a location I can explore that already has an interesting feel? The final piece was bringing on an incredible production designer, Pete Hickok. Thanks to Ciarra’s generosity, we had access to our location a full week before shooting, allowing him to transform the house from a space with mostly white walls into something vibrant and night-lifey. We also loved the art gallery aesthetic—keeping the walls somewhat bare and using color. L.A. is full of transient people, especially in your 20s. You’re not living in super-lived-in places; you’re moving every year. It was a combination of all these elements that made the environment feel both authentic and full of energy.
Aayush Sharma: Sophia’s dynamic with Jacob is layered and emotionally complex. How did you and Louie Chapman develop that chemistry, and were there any scenes that were particularly challenging to get right?
Ciarra Krohne: I think, you know, it’s really about getting to know each other and building trust. He’s such a great scene partner, and I just felt lucky to work with him. We could easily bounce off each other, which made it so much nicer in a scene. When you can trust your scene partner, you can hold each other’s hands through the moment and find it together. So, yeah, it was great. We had a couple of complicated scenes. The scene in the street, for sure, was a big one because it had a lot of highs and lows. There was a big emotional irony to work through in that scene. And it was freezing cold at the time, so we were balancing all these elements—but it was really fun to do. And then, of course, the ending scene was definitely an emotionally challenging one to film in general. But it’s 100 percent easier when you have a good partner and a strong relationship to lean on.
Aayush Sharma: Brooke, there’s a striking contrast between your character and your on-screen sister, Elsie. While you bring a sense of calm and composure, Elsie embodies the impulsive, emotionally-driven nature of many in Gen Z—someone who craves connection and is willing to go to great lengths to achieve it. I saw the casting reel where Erin selected Shannon to play your sister, and I’m curious—what was your initial reaction when you first saw her in the role? How did you both develop that sibling chemistry, and what was your approach to portraying such distinct yet interconnected personalities?
Brooke Maroon: Yeah, so that was crazy. Originally, when I got the audition for this, I had to audition for both roles—and so did Shannon. We both had to audition for both roles because, I think—correct me if I’m wrong, Erin—they kind of gave up on trying to find real twins. They had been casting all these real twins, and they were great, but they just weren’t Billy Joel and Elsie. So they were like, “What if we just had the same girl do both roles and go back and forth really, really quick?” I was so here for it because that’s such a fun challenge, and that’s just an actor’s dream—specifically, one of my dreams. So I auditioned for both roles, and it was so fun. Then, when I got the callback, I was talking to Erin, and she was like, “We actually found someone who looks just like you.” And I was like, “What? That’s crazy. I don’t believe you, but okay, sure.” Then I showed up to the first dance rehearsal, and I saw Shannon from across the room. I was like, “Oh my gosh, that is me. That is literally me.” It was so crazy.
We clicked so quickly, trying to figure out if somehow we were separated at birth or if we were siblings. We went through our whole family tree—where we grew up and everything. She’s amazing. She makes me laugh so hard. I wish I could just be around her energy all the time. And yeah, I love the dynamic—the difference in dynamic between us—but together. I mean, she is a lot funnier than I am, but energy-wise, we can be with each other for a long time. I love Shannon.
Aayush Sharma: Thematically, Chasers critiques how women are conditioned to accept toxic behavior in both relationships and the industry. How did you balance this commentary without making it feel didactic or heavy-handed?
Erin Brown Thomas: Yeah, so Ciarra and I talked a lot during the scripting phase about keeping this focused on everyday problems rather than, you know, big dramatic moments. I think it’s the subtle stuff that weighs on you the most. I grew up with this metaphor about a frog in a boiling pot. People weirdly use this metaphor to talk about succumbing to evil or whatever, but I love it for describing the experience of being the victim of a toxic or abusive situation. If you haven’t heard it before, the idea is that if a frog jumps into boiling water, it will immediately jump out. But if it jumps into lukewarm water and the heat is turned up gradually, it gets warm and cozy—until suddenly, it’s in boiling water. Similarly, when we encounter overtly abusive situations out of nowhere, we tend to realize it immediately—like, “Oh, I gotta get out of here, this isn’t great.” But the people who stay in those situations have been conditioned and groomed for them. I saw Chasers as a way of exploring the grooming I’ve gone through over the last 20 years—how I ended up living a life where I think I’m making a lot more compromises than I want to. Sometimes those compromises involve morality, but what I was more interested in exploring, at least with this pilot, were the compromises tied to my own self-worth—the way I allow people to treat me.
At its core, Chasers is about the compromises we make in pursuit of success, belonging, and authenticity. But it all starts with the small things—the things we’re conditioned to believe every day. I also spent a lot of time thinking about how to allow the audience to make poor judgments about the characters, only to later realize there’s something deeper going on. We knew that with the main storyline of Sophia and Jacob, if we did it right, Sophia would initially come across as too thirsty—a little too desperate. The audience might think, Honey, why are you doing this to yourself? You’re bringing it on yourself. But then, with the ending, we reveal that her desperation to be with him is really about rewriting the narrative in her own head. That’s the lens through which we view everything else. Some aspects of the show are more obvious. For example, Amber’s storyline—we talked about her having her own version of the casting couch. She’s thinking, I really want this job, but the guy who hired me is asking me to dinner. What does that mean? Do I need to wear a ring? That’s maybe a more overt example.
Then there’s the dynamic between Maddie and Bax—two best friends competing for an unavailable position. It’s not illegal, but it’s something we’ve all become accustomed to—not just in Hollywood, but in modern life in general. And then there’s Shannon’s role—Elsie, the twin that Brooke just talked about. Ciarra and I were really proud of this one because of its subtlety. On the surface, it just looks like an influencer who, instead of trying to appear strong, tries to appear vulnerable. In her livestream, she uses a tear stick beforehand to seem more emotional and relatable. That might come across as inauthentic or entitled. We always joked that, on the surface, we wanted every character to look like an entitled young person—but for the people who really understand this project, it goes deeper than that. For me, the deeper layer with Shannon’s storyline was how I feel all the time—like I’m asked to muster up vulnerability in order to advance my career. I’m constantly applying to workshops for diversity and inclusion, or just industry opportunities in general, and they always ask these deeply personal questions. It often feels like they’re saying, Give us some trauma porn. Tell us something you’ve overcome.
When you talk to people who get into these programs, they often say they pulled out their darkest or most personal experiences. And while sometimes you want to share that—like I am with Chasers—sometimes you just want to say, Can you just look at my work? There’s always something underneath the surface of these situations. That pressure to commodify your vulnerability and anxiety is yet another example of how we’re asked to abandon our authenticity in the pursuit of being our most authentic selves as artists—which is the inherent contradiction at the heart of the show.
Aayush Sharma: Ciarra and Brooke, performing in a single-take production—whether a pilot, a TV show, or a film—requires unwavering emotional presence. Since the format demands that every actor remain in character at all times, how did you both prepare for the intensity and fluidity of that experience? Additionally, did the single-shot approach change how you approached your performances, particularly in scenes where you weren’t the primary focus?
Ciarra Krohne: I think having a lot of rehearsals really helped because it allowed us to go through everything, find the movement of the film, and get a sense of how it would feel to transition from scene to scene. Another thing that helped was my experience in theater when I was younger. Theater is constant—it doesn’t stop. You do the whole show from start to finish, and then it’s done. That’s kind of what filming this project felt like—you just keep going. If you make a mistake, you either have to redo the whole scene or find a way to push through. That made the process both challenging and exciting. It was a very different filming setup, but as an actor, it was a lot of fun to take on.
Brooke Maroon: I agree with everything Ciarra says—having rehearsals was key. We had to make choices right then and there, and if, for some reason, you didn’t stick to the choice you had planned while filming, you just had to play along with it afterward. For example, in the “meet the gang” scene where the marshmallow is thrown at Louis, he was supposed to catch it. That moment kind of evolved into something playful, and we just went with it. The take we used was one where he didn’t catch it, so we improvised, and someone said, “Five-second rule!” We just kept going, which was really exciting. I also did theater and am a dancer as well, so that helps a lot. Having that mindset allows you to stay in character the whole time. It’s like performing a show, except there’s a camera that’s part of your blocking, and you have to remember where you need to be. If you mess up, you risk ruining the shot, which means starting over. But honestly, I love one-take scenes—they’re my favorite thing.
Aayush Sharma: Erin, in the final moments of Chasers, we see everyone dancing—even when the situation doesn’t necessarily call for celebration. To me, it felt like a release, a way for these characters to let go of their tensions and inhibitions. We witness friends arguing one moment and then hugging it out while dancing, even after losing their jobs. From your perspective, what does that dance sequence represent within the larger context of the show? How does it tie into Chasers’ central themes?
Erin Brown Thomas: That’s a great question, and I’m so glad it hit you that way. Ciarra and I really wanted it to resonate on multiple levels. I love it when films leave room for interpretation—not too much, but enough clarity for people to latch onto something. There are probably infinite ways to look at the dance, but two stand out to me: one from the perspective of the people dancing and the other from Sophia’s perspective. If we start with the perspective of those dancing, the dance can be seen as a metaphor for everyone going through the motions while Sophia wakes up to the reality of what she has to confront—at least on the level of a pilot. The other thing I found interesting is how Ciarra and I talked about the term “gaslight.” It was such a buzzword five years ago, with people learning about it for the first time—”gaslight, gaslight.” Obviously, there’s an element of gaslighting in the street scene, but we didn’t want to use the word directly. It still feels relevant, but conversations about it can feel overdone.
Instead, we wanted to create the feeling of someone being gaslit by an entire night—by an experience, by a party. That’s where the line “Where did you learn this?” and Decx’s response, “We didn’t,” comes from. It’s that moment of questioning reality—like, “Am I literally going crazy?” Everything Sophia thought she knew about her life and relationships is suddenly different. Rather than relying on a desaturated color palette or slow motion (though there is some slow motion in the dance), we asked: what’s a new way to visually manifest gaslighting? That’s what I was aiming for when locked into Sophia’s perspective. But I was also doing it to the audience—making them question what they thought they knew. For some, that’s a problem. But for the viewer I’m after, that’s exciting. I always want to put the viewer in the experience of the character, and the way to do that is by confusing them—making them think they understood, only to pull the rug out from under them. If the audience feels crazy, they can understand what it’s like for the character to feel crazy.
Chasers recently screened at the Slamdance Film Festival.
Learn more about the show at the Slamdance site for the title.
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