Hi, guys. It’s Allie.
I think this might be the first blog post that I’ve actually written, which is odd because I feel like I’ve spent a fair share of time on this blog. I know you guys can move mountains – I’ve seen it before, and I trust you can do it again. All that to say, I’ve got a request. But first – story time. As many of you know, I left Alaska in the fall of 2025 to go to Liberty University to pursue a bachelors degree in film.
I left during a tumultuous time. The family attended the sentencing for Cy’s murderer barely a month before I left for school. On one hand, it felt like closure. But on the other hand, it didn’t bring him back, and that wasn’t any kind of ending I was content with.
I left Alaska, moved to a new state without anyone waiting there for me, and began working on what would be the culmination of all my work as a film student – my thesis film. I wrote the first draft of Elevator Pitch on a random summer afternoon. At the time, I was a freshman in college, fresh out of a very unconventional and harried high school experience. I was taking a screenwriting class with Liberty University online, just for vibes. That week, we were talking about elevator pitches, which referred to being able to pitch your story in the time it took to ride an elevator.
I thought, “What if instead of having to pitch your story in the time it takes to ride an elevator, you have to pitch why you should be allowed to live in the time it takes to ride an elevator?” And Elevator Pitch was born. It began with a man riding in an elevator, another man jumping in and threatening him with a gun, asking, “Why should I let you leave this elevator alive?”
The initial script was just dialogue. Just two guys in an elevator talking about life and not wanting to be a part of it anymore. It was dark, comical, and had heart. My gunman, Boston, was a zany, hapless character. He was suicidal and looking for reasons to live, so he asked someone else for inspiration. Only Matthias was even more suicidal than he was.
As I continued my college experience, hopping from pursuits, passions, callings, and jobs, Elevator Pitch stayed with me. When it came time to write my thesis film, Elevator Pitch was one of the ideas I pitched – pardon the pun.
As life progressed and I changed, so did the characters. Boston went from being an entertaining, flat character to a fully fleshed-out person. A young man from an abusive background who was kicked out for something that wasn’t his fault. Sound familiar?
Matthias was harder to understand. He was so angry and so sad. What was the source of his suicidality? I decided that his sister, Lily, died, then his girlfriend dumped him, then he lost his job. In my experience, there are times in your life when there are so many horrible things happening at once that it’s almost comical. Still, though, Matthias felt flat. Undefined.
Then we lost Cy, and suddenly Matthias made sense. All the rage, all the grief, all the hurt. I decided his sister didn’t just die. No. She died pulling people out of a burning car when she stumbled upon an accident on the side of the road. She was struck by a truck and killed. She died saving people she didn’t even know.
I knew exactly what people would say to Matthias after his sister died. “She was so brave.” “She died a hero.” “She was such a selfless person.” But that didn’t matter to Matthias. What mattered to Matthias was the fact that his sister was gone. Dead. Never to return. The one person who made him feel human and connected to the world was dead in an instant, and she wasn’t coming back. Yes, she died a hero. But she still died.
There was more than that, though. Why had Lily felt inclined to risk her life when she knew she had a family that loved her dearly and would’ve been deeply affected if she were hurt or killed?
When I went to Liberty, I may have left home and my family and court and Cy’s grave and the couch I was lying on when I heard he’d been murdered behind. But that grief came with me. The anger, the hurt, the pain – it never left. It just didn’t identify itself as what it was. Boston and Matthias – Elevator Pitch – became vessels for all the pain that I couldn’t yet voice.
Elevator Pitch is a story about grief, loss, love, and human connection. It’s about how doing the right thing doesn’t always make it all better or make all the pain go away. Elevator Pitch is not a story that will tell you to hurry up and feel better. It is a story that will tell you to slow down and feel. There are not always easy fixes in life. Not for things like grief.
Dad always tells me that giving speeches and pitches isn’t scary if you know you have something to say. Something that matters. I believe I do. I am passionate about Elevator Pitch’s message and I am eager to share it with people who are grieving and in pain.
This brings me to my request. As film students at Liberty University, we are required to fund our own thesis films. This means paying for actors, non-Liberty crew, locations, food during the shoot, and post-production work, such as composing a score and coloring the film. I am asking, if you are able and if you believe in Elevator Pitch’s message, that you donate to the film. Any donation of any size is greatly appreciated by me and by my cast and crew. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t absolutely confident in this story and its message.
If you can’t donate, I completely understand. I’d still love for you to be involved and follow along. Elevator Pitch has an official page on Instagram where I post updates, and you’re all always welcome to come hang. I promise the vibes are good.
Thank you for listening to my elevator pitch, even if it took longer than an elevator ride. And thank you all for always cheering my family and I on. This life is heavy sometimes, but we ramble on.
Much love and many thanks,
Allie Goecker
Follow the film on Instagram here. @elevator_pitch_film
Donate to the film with Venmo here or at PayPal here.
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