In 2025, Aira co-wrote, directed, and produced her debut feature film, titled “A Star Will Shoot By,” which was recently shortlisted for PÖFF, an FIAPF-accredited A-list international film festival, and is currently in the early stages of its film festival process.
Still from “A Star Will Shoot By” (2025)
In a quiet house within a sprawling city, two individuals drift through a long, lonely night, haunted by memories of a past that feels both distant and inescapably present. Drawing on a decade of personal footage, the film creates an intimate portrait of their lives as their dog’s illness brings long-buried fears to the surface. Interlacing real memories with a fictionalized present, the film becomes a meditation on love, loss, loneliness, impermanence, and the weight of time.
Cinema, for me, is a way to explore the nature of the human experience and uncover the emotions that linger in spaces, memories, and dreams. This film is autobiographical and deeply personal, shaped by my own lived experiences. It interweaves fiction and nonfiction in the form of an imagined, dream-like version of the present, interwoven with memories that document real, intimate moments. Shot across personally significant locations with a small, close-knit crew, its intimacy reflects both its themes and process.
Through these personal recollections, I wanted to preserve and celebrate the mundane yet profound experiences that come to shape our lives: those that slip through time unnoticed only to quietly return in memory. The film was conceived as a tribute to my dog, who changed my life in ways I can’t fully articulate. His presence and quiet understanding became a grounding force through my own struggles with mental health. Through this film, I also wanted to create a portrait of the city I call home, one that is so diverse and culturally rich yet gravely underrepresented.
Experimenting with film as a medium allows me to translate my otherwise elusive personal experiences into a form that resonates with others’ shared human experiences. The nature of the characters’ thought patterns, for instance, often mirrors my own experience with ADHD—characterized by scattered, fragmented thoughts, at times persistent, and fleeting at others.
Rather than offering a conventional narrative, I wanted to create a meditative experience, where sounds, images, and silence intertwine to evoke the weight of absence and the passage of time. The film is a space for reflection, a moment suspended between the past and the present, where the external world mirrors internal states. It invites the audience to drift, to feel, to be one with the characters’ thoughts, fears, and preoccupations.