Described as a psychological “immigrant-noir” thriller, the award-winning drama ‘Stockade’ from writer/directer Eric McGinty takes audiences on a wild ride through the eyes of a character whose main story arc becomes even more complicated because of her immigrant status.
‘Stockade’ tells the story of Ahlam, a struggling Lebanese artist in New York City who takes a job delivering a package upstate, only to open a Pandora’s box. In this updated meditation on the pursuit of the American dream, Ahlam finds herself in dire financial straits and desperate to come by the funds to extend her artist’s visa. When she is offered a job to deliver a mysterious package upstate, Ahlam believes she has found a solution. Upon her arrival in the Hudson Valley, Ahlam encounters shady characters and quirky neighbors as she is unwittingly drawn into the world of ancient artifact trafficking.
A timely narrative and topic amidst the beginning of a second Trump administration where immigrant rights have become the target of political attacks, ‘Stockade’ offers audiences some much-welcomed nuance to the immigrant experience, layered with some mystery and drama to keep audiences guessing.
The film had its World Premiere at the 2023 Woodstock Film Festival and was also an Official Selection of the 2024 Queens World Film Festival at the Museum of the Moving Image where it won awards for Best Narrative Feature and Best Female Actor. In 2025, ‘Stockade’ will have a limited theatrical release in Los Angeles at Laemmle Glendale starting February 21, and will be available on all North American digital HD internet, cable and satellite platforms, as well as on DVD, on February 25 via Freestyle Digital Media.
Ahead of the theatrical release, we had the chance to speak with one of the film’s producers, Anna Sang Park, and lead actress Sarah Bitar who plays Ahlam, to get a deeper sense of ‘Stockade’s main themes, what it takes to make an indie feature film and get it in front of audiences, and what kind of impact they hope it will have on audiences today.
ANNA SANG PARK
What drew you to Eric’s script, and why did you want to work on ‘Stockade’?
Eric and I are also life partners so we’ve had this conversation for years about the complexities of commodification of the arts and artists. But Eric is a student of history and he questions the relationship between art and the power dynamics in the world and how that plays out in societal structures. When I read STOCKADE, I was immediately drawn to the themes he was exploring and the style he was crafting. I wanted to produce a modern film noir which was also a compelling story centering an immigrant woman artist.
As an award-winning filmmaker, how do you choose the projects you work on, and what kinds of genres or themes are you particularly drawn to?
We call our film, STOCKADE, an immigrant film noir as a spin off of film noir. I fell in love with films and I think when you are a filmmaker, you are continuously learning, not just aesthetically and technically but also politically. And more than ever now, filmmakers, if we are doing our jobs, we are becoming interdisciplinary artists that are challenging conventional narratives. And that’s not just the stories on screen but how we make our films as well. Inclusivity is important. Diversity is critical.
Centering stories about our climate crisis is paramount. I am drawn to stories that question the dominating cultural norms, probably because I grew up in three radically different realities: the Korean immigrant community with a Marine Veteran father, who was also a North Korean refugee who lost his parents and his two siblings in the Korean War; the affluent suburban white community where I never learned about my Asian American history; and then on weekends in North Philadelphia, a Black community where my parents ran a diner and a grocery store.
I worked at their stores on weekends and in the summer for years. All these contrasting realities shaped me, so, I like stories that push us to investigate and become social scientists even in fiction.
For people unaware of what it takes to get a film from script to screen, what kind of a journey has Stockade been on since premiering in 2023? How do you get a film in front of audiences, or to a distribution platform of some kind?
Every film has its own journey but getting a film out is a massive challenge for independent filmmakers. The changing landscape of film distribution is a perpetual puzzle that everyone is trying to navigate as media ownership is consolidated constantly. It’s ironic because we have more streaming platforms than ever, we have more technology than we know what to do with and we have more “tools” in theory.
But what most people don’t realize is that independent filmmakers spend months and years in development, production, and post-production before the release of the film. When you think you are done, after locking picture, you are just getting started. Getting the film to festivals, finding a distributor, marketing, promoting and making sure your film finds a good home. You have to guide your film to find its audience in a very noisy world where everyone has less time and attention is highly competitive, but that’s your job.
We worked with a sales agent to find our distributor. And it truly is a marathon and there are moments where you feel very isolated and profoundly lonely. It’s not the fun shoot, the exciting sound mix, or the glamorous premieres, it’s often the detailed work of making sure all the deliverables are done right, it’s a full on experience.
As the film industry is changing so rapidly, and as someone who has worked in features, docs, series and TV, how do you navigate this changing landscape and continue to make a career out of filmmaking?
It’s a very strange time. Not only is the world of film, TV & media changing rapidly, our global political dynamics are immensely disturbing. With growing authoritarianism rising in the world, including our very own country, I am extremely concerned. Also deeply troubling is the corporatization that’s afflicted so much in the last two to three decades.
There’s a dizzying acceleration of consolidation of media power, and diminishing empathy for the workers, not just in the U.S. but everywhere, including my birth country, South Korea. As a longtime student of film, I also know that cinema has never been stagnant. Film & TV are more than entertainment. It reflects our contemporary context, cultural identities and our values. But with AI trying to restructure or transform our film culture, it’s a bewildering period. I try to focus in on the fact that we are building artistic coalitions of independent filmmakers, global artists of varying disciplines, scholars, and activists determined to make resonating narratives.
That said, deep down, a filmmaker’s path is unknown and uncertain. As a writer, director, producer and an educator, I’ve grown to manage it, even if it’s not comfortable. I don’t have a specific strategy but I advocate fiercely for generating your own work. This is what I emphasize to my students. And always stay curious and work with people you respect.
Given the recent news of Trump’s immigration attacks on undocumented folks as well as citizens, how do you think the theme of immigration will resonate with audiences who watch Stockade today?
Ursula Le Guin said, “We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable; so did the divine right of kings. Power can be resisted and changed by human beings; resistance and change often begin in art … The name of our beautiful reward is not profit. It is freedom.”
I was born in Incheon, South Korea, and grew up in Seoul and Philadelphia. My family, like Ahlam in STOCKADE, had visa issues. My parents weren’t applying for artist visas but their visa problems were serious enough for our family of 6 to be separated for over two years.
Way before that, my father was separated from his parents at age 17, during the Korean War, and he never saw them again. Deportations, family separations, tearing apart of communities and lack of due process are all atrocious. The impact this has on immigrants and their children is devastating and harms everyone for generations.
Ahlam in STOCKADE is worried about her uncertain status as an immigrant. So many people can identify with that feeling. But as Ursula Le Guin said, I think when corrupt politicians threaten and abuse power, it means artists have to create more work, collaborate profusely, internationally, hyper locally and resist the catastrophic societal structures of what they keep insisting is the “norm” as they destroy hundreds of thousands of lives. Ahlam creates her own sense of freedom. I hope the audience will find the themes of defiance, determination and freedom in STOCKADE inspiring.
Having been born in South Korea, having lived in Europe, and now residing in the U.S., why is it important to you that films represent a diverse array of voices both in front of and behind the camera?
Film has become one of the most dominant forms of human expression. But at this moment, our dominant habit seems to be the culture of consumption fueled by anxiety. And most of us are in this hyper capitalistic system where our connections to each other are often filtered and organized by our consuming habits. And transactions within the economic sphere are collected and mined.
Why does this matter for cinema? Because as filmmakers we must refuse to become a homogeneous society. I feel a strong calling to make the less visible more visible, to make films that reflect our multi-ethnic societies on-screen and off-screen. I am driven to make films that examine and subvert the oppressive narratives, especially when those narratives are going backwards to blatant misogyny, intolerance and divisiveness.
SARAH BITAR
What drew you to Eric’s script for ‘Stockade’ and the character of Ahlam?
Eric, Anna, and I began meeting during the pandemic to develop a film together. We’d been friends since 2017. At the time, I was preparing my artist visa application, and they played a crucial role in the process—writing recommendation letters and helping me connect with an immigration lawyer. From the start, we agreed that the script would explore immigration, as each of us had firsthand experience navigating life in the U.S. while maintaining deep ties to other countries.
This shared perspective shaped our approach to the story. I was drawn to Ahlam (which is Arabic for “dreams”) because she tests the limits of the American Dream in ways that ultimately lead her into risky, unpredictable territory. Along the way, she encounters strange characters, each of them grappling with their own version of that Dream, in their own flawed, desperate ways.
You moved to the US in 2016 to further your acting career. What has the experience been like so far, and what have been the highlights for you?
I initially came to the U.S. as a student, and for five years after graduating drama school, I navigated the complexities of immigration bureaucracy and constant uncertainty. But I’m ecstatic to say that I’m finally on the other side of it as I now have the freedom to work and travel without restriction. Because my artist visa only allowed me to work as an actor, I had to carve out my own opportunities. That pushed me into writing and producing, which I now do through Beitna (Arabic for “our home”), a collective I co-founded with my dear collaborators Aya Aziz and Waseem Alzer.
Beyond my own projects, I’m fortunate to be part of the creative process with incredible directors at The Mercury Store, where I get to perform in service of new works—ranging from classical texts to physical theater, clowning, and poetry. I’m compelled to create and perform work rooted in meaningful artistic practices and heritage.
Ahlam’s struggle to extend her student visa, make money and stay in the US can be very relatable to many people today. What do you hope audiences will learn the most from her journey that is not often talked about in conversations about immigration?
Audiences will take away what uniquely resonates most with them.
But what I love about Ahlam is that she finds the loophole, connects with a lawyer, and learns her rights. The new government acknowledges that some migrants have been resisting these brutal raids simply by knowing their rights of engagement with law enforcement, and that’s been enough to keep them from being arrested or deported.
Throughout my own immigration process, I had to constantly remind myself not to lose my sense of self, and that I am so much more than my immigration status.
Stockade has such a diverse range of representation on screen and behind the camera. Why is this important to you personally?
Most of the actors in Stockade are dear friends, so the cast gives you a pretty good idea of the people I surround myself with.
They want to criminalize “diversity,” but the reality is that a lot of people in this country come from somewhere else and speak with an accent. Representation isn’t just a buzzword, it matters because it reflects the true makeup of society.
You have produced a lot of your own work in the US out of necessity. Can you explain more about why many artists today do this?
We’ve been making art since the days of cave paintings. Now, there’s this added pressure to make something of one’s life, to justify the act of creating. I can’t speak for other artists, but I make my own work out of a deep hunger to remember, to understand people and the times we live in, to delight in creating, and to project my innermost images, questions, and dialogues into the world. Honestly, I don’t know if I do know why I do it, but I know that I keep returning to it.
Having been born and raised in Lebanon, what kind of perspectives from your homeland and culture do you want to bring into your films?
Lebanon as a place feels ancient, deeply rooted, and anchored in history. It’s the birthplace of one of the first alphabets. Many civilizations and cultures have passed through that strip of the Mediterranean, and still do, which makes people open to the Other and knowledgeable about the world. The people are deeply hospitable, family bonds matter, and the language itself is deeply poetic.
And I have to mention the food—because, honestly, it’s life-changing. Eating something truly delicious and nourishing every day isn’t just a luxury; it changes everything. But Lebanon is also a land of ongoing tragedy. Despite everything, people carry a ridiculous sense of humor. When war and loss span generations, you’re left with two choices: live as a perpetual victim or learn to laugh at the absurdity of it all. And boy, do we love to laugh!
As Stockade is soon to be screened in a theater in Los Angeles and then be available on streaming, what do you hope audiences will leave thinking about after watching the film, especially now in the turbulent political climate we are seeing?
I went into an Arab grocery store the other day to pick up some staple foods like tahini and dates—yes, I know, it’s as cliché as it gets. But it was right after Trump announced that Gazans should be displaced from their ancestral land to neighboring countries.
I struck up a conversation with the shopkeeper, who turned out to be Egyptian. He was so positive, despite everything. He said, “Look at Gazans—they’re unbreakable. They walk for days with their families and homes on their backs, returning to their demolished homes, but they’re strong no matter what because they are one people.” He kept repeating this phrase in Arabic, “yad allah ma3 el jama3a”: God is present where solidarity is.
You can watch ‘Stockade’ during its limited theatrical release in Los Angeles at Laemmle Glendale starting February 21, or view it on all North American digital HD internet, cable and satellite platforms, as well as on DVD, on February 25 via Freestyle Digital Media. Follow Stockade on Instagram to keep up with more updates about screenings and events, and visit the official film website.
