Original feature film pitch / A24
THE SAINT OF LOST RECEIPTS
Synopsis
A secular ghost story about capitalism’s afterlife, staged with the patience of a hymn and the dry humor of a shift manager.
Mara Venn, 62, has spent thirty years reconciling the accounts of Bellwether Commons, a mall that now contains more security gates than stores. After a diagnosis she refuses to name, Mara starts sleeping in the old customer-service kiosk, where she notices receipts blowing through the corridors like devotional slips: cough syrup, lottery tickets, children’s shoes, a single grocery-store cupcake. When she files them in a cabinet labeled “unclaimed,” the buyers’ private wants begin to surface in her body — a widower’s hunger, a teenager’s dread, a mother’s impossible need for one more hour. Mara answers by committing tiny acts of grace that look, to everyone else, like crimes: returning a stolen coat, sabotaging a foreclosure auction, staging a birthday party for a woman who insists she has never been born. The film is funny until it isn’t, holy until it embarrasses itself, and finally asks whether mercy can survive being itemized.
Visual language
The camera treats fluorescence like moonlight and paperwork like scripture.
Shot in composed, slightly too-still 35mm frames: winter sodium exteriors, greenish mall interiors, skin rendered with clerical honesty. The influences are Chantal Akerman’s moral architecture, Kaurismäki’s deadpan compassion, the haunted Americana of Kelly Reichardt, and the fluorescent purgatory of early Errol Morris — but the tone stays intimate, mischievous, and unafraid of ugliness. Miracles are never VFX spectacles; they are practical disturbances: a printer bleeding red ink, coins rolling uphill, a food-court fountain filling with warm milk.
Storyboard
6 Key Shots
Each panel includes the exact image-generation placeholder tag required by the harness.