fixateandbingepodcast
Jul 29, 2026
Sometimes family grief refuses to sit quietly on the sidelines during life's most important moments. In writer and director Lilian T. Mehrel's deeply personal feature debut **HONEYJOON**, a mother and daughter journey to São Miguel Island in Portugal's Azores to commemorate the first anniversary of the death of the husband and father whose love once served as the emotional glue binding their fractured family together. For June (Ayden Mayeri) and her British-born Persian mother Lela (Amira Casar), returning to a place cherished by the man they both lost becomes far more than an act of remembrance. Their socially awkward vacation—complete with the uncomfortable realization that they are seemingly the only guests at a romantic resort not celebrating a honeymoon—lays bare years of unresolved tensions, generational differences, and cultural misunderstandings that had long existed beneath the surface. Yet **HONEYJOON** refuses to become consumed by sorrow. Instead, Mehrel crafts a touching, funny, and emotionally honest exploration of grief's aftermath, embracing the uncomfortable unpredictability of life with warmth and compassion. Whether through awkward encounters, moments of unexpected humor, or the flirtatious presence of the soulful local tour guide João, the film continually reminds its characters—and its audience—that joy can return, even when tragedy has convinced us otherwise. Anchoring **HONEYJOON** is a trio of exceptional performances from Ayden Mayeri, Amira Casar, and José Condessa, whose natural chemistry allows the film to effortlessly navigate moments of humor, heartbreak, and renewal. Supported by Lilian T. Mehrel's sharply observed screenplay and the stunning beauty of São Miguel Island in the Azores—which emerges as a character in its own right—the film finds an elegant balance between grief and hope, loss and possibility. Inspired in part by the death of her own father, Mehrel channels a question that many mourners quietly wrestle with: Can life ever truly be enjoyed again? **HONEYJOON** offers a gentle but profound answer. Happiness, the film suggests, is neither permanent nor illusory. Rather, as one character beautifully observes, "***I think it comes in waves—in the little moments, but it's not forever. Even more good reason to ride the wave when it comes, even if it will go. Because it will go.***" That philosophy ultimately defines **HONEYJOON**. Rather than promising everlasting happiness, Mehrel celebrates the fleeting beauty of life's small joys and argues that their impermanence is precisely what makes them worth embracing. **HONEYJOON** understands that healing is not a destination, but a series of waves. Grief comes in waves. Happiness comes in waves. Love comes in waves. And perhaps the greatest act of courage is learning to ride them all.
