● Chase Manning
About Me
I’ve explored the art of storytelling just about my entire life. I wrote my first short story in fourth grade titled “The Bloody Knife”—no doubt inspired by my obsession with the Goosebumps series at the time—and in my early 20s, I hand-wrote on scrap paper a number of stories while working the quiet 3rd shift in the basement of the NSA.
While studying and practicing the craft of writing in my MFA program, I continually received similar feedback from my peers: “Your novel reads more like a screenplay.” I don’t think they meant it as something I was doing well, but I wore it as a badge, nonetheless; I had my distinct style. And since I love film, it was a great style to have.
After trying and not succeeding at getting into UC Berkeley’s Film Studies PhD program, I kept writing. I sent some chapters of a novel-in-progress to a friend who said, “Your novel reads more like a screenplay.” Surprise. But then he followed up with, “You love film. Your writing reads like a screenplay. Why don’t you write a screenplay?”
It was a very significant “ah-ha” moment for me. And here I am now. It’s a few years later, and I’ve written that screenplay—Hope Dying.
5 Questions for the Writer
What are the key themes you’re exploring in your script?
1
To destigmatize and discuss dying openly. We avoid talking about it for fear of being too morbid. If we do talk, it’s in euphemisms and war metaphors, as if death is an enemy to defeat. Dying isn’t glamorous, for sure. But it can be beautiful, too. Entire cultures are built around the dying process. I want to normalize discussions about death and dying in our culture, specifically in the realm of Medical Aid in Dying—where conversation should be welcomed.
Another theme I’m exploring is the mutual exchange of our whole selves with our loved ones, particularly in terms of secrets. We keep secrets from them for fear of what they will think of us, or for fear of hurting them. But this is potentially a mistake because keeping secrets changes dynamics and still puts a strain on a relationship that can be worse than if the secrets came out.
Tonally, my script is similar to the brilliant film, Paddleton—at times humorous and a little silly, and other times melodramatic. Also like Paddleton, the countdown to the climax is present in the background of every scene, which anchors the film with a level of seriousness.
For my visual style, most of the script is gloomy, which will add to the seriousness. However, since the main character is an aspiring stand-up comedian, there are moments of sunlight breaking through, which brings needed levity. In this regard, my script is similar to The Big Sick.
For its feel, my script has a unique mix of the somber and the sober with a little of the seductive. It’s also very cringe-worthy because the main character wants so much to be funny, but isn’t. Overall, it can be fairly sad, but it also has a sense of hopefulness, especially the ending.
How do you describe the intended tone, feel, and visual style of your script?
2
Why are you passionate about telling this story now? What gives it urgency?
3
After visiting a “Death Cafe” for research, I feel dying and Medical Aid in Dying should be in the public consciousness.
But society would rather avoid talking about death because it’s unpleasant. At the “Death Cafe”, I listened to the dying tell their stories:
“‘They’re almost out the door, so let’s just put them over there. Into a home or hospice.’ This may not be what people say aloud, but it’s how society acts. We throw aside the dying” (Death Cafe Attendee).
But when it comes to someone’s decision to take their own life, we suddenly get loud.
“So which is it? Death is taboo, but you get to say how someone dies? That they have to needlessly suffer?” (Cafe Attendee)
I’m passionate about this story because of them. Those who’ve been cast aside deserve to have their story told. My character, Hope, bears this weight and embodies their stories.
Who do you see as the audience for this film, and what do you want them to take away from it?
4
Anyone who has said to a loved one with a terminal illness, “I’ll never stop fighting for you,” or, “You can’t give up. You can beat this.” Or maybe someone who thinks that for a story (real or fiction) to have a happy ending, the hero battling the disease comes out on the other side cured and victorious. I want my audience to understand that death can be a happy ending. A beautiful ending. So instead of “fighting” for them, just be with them and accept their terminal decision.
I also see my audience as those with a terminal illness. I want to encourage them to “get their affairs in order” and live the rest of their days with abandon. This isn’t about creating a will and completing an exciting bucket list, but rather it’s about reconciliation, finally being completely true to yourself, and leaving this life without regret.
What is your personal connection to the material?
5
I once read the Jo Ann Beard story, “Undertaker Please Drive Slow”, about “the slow decline of a strong woman, Cheri, fighting a losing battle against cancer.” Cheri was Beard’s friend, and when Beard “heard that Cheri had spent an entire car ride from Iowa to Michigan with her head in her hands—Beard never let that image escape from her mind. In that moment, Beard knew Cheri’s story must be told.”
A simple, yet powerful image for Beard. This concept of an image taking hold really stuck with me. And I eventually had my own image.
When my dad suffered a major stroke in 2023 and was left paralyzed and non-verbal for 5 months before passing away, I had the indelible image of a loved one suffering and dying in my head. And I couldn’t stop thinking about Hope.
Before, when I first began writing this script, I merely felt it was an interesting concept for a story. But now, Hope’s story, though fictional, has to be told. For dad.