About the Film

Director’s Statement

EVERYONE DIES

I’m going to die. And so are you. That’s just a fact. 

Most of us will have family and/or friends to care for us at the end and honor us afterwards. But not everyone. Some corpses go unclaimed, even though their names are known and families and acquaintances notified. Quite simply, nobody wants them.

THE UNCLAIMED

Six years ago, I stumbled upon a news article about how Los Angeles County cremates six unclaimed bodies a day. Nearly 1,800 every year. Many, though not all, are indigent. These are the unclaimed dead. The thing that struck me most in the article was that, in many cases, the only one who finally treats them with respect is the last person to see them: the cremator. 

The cremator gets to say goodbye.

THE PROCESS

In my research, I found that cities and counties throughout the United States follow almost identical procedures. They all try to locate next of kin or companions to take possession of the corpse. Typically, after about 30 days of searching and because of limited storage space, the bodies are cremated. The remains are stored for a year or two in case someone shows up to collect them – which is rare – before a mass burial at a local cemetery.

I spoke with a number of funeral directors and cremators about the industry in general, and about care for the unclaimed in particular. I witnessed the cremation process first hand, and I toured a crematorium factory, meeting with an engineer who designs and builds the furnaces.

AND HERE WE ARE

Cremation of the discarded dead is the jumping off point and underlying current that rumbles throughout the script. But as you’ll see, it’s really about relationships, the coming together of the lonely living to form unlikely friendships. That’s what drives the story, a story that’s become the film, Unclaimed. 

TW Miller

Writer, Producer, Director