To Create 'Toots,' My Personal Film on Aging, I Required the Ideal Fart Sound

      Chris Evans is a filmmaker based in Shreveport, Louisiana, whose recent film, “Toots.,” is currently making its rounds in film festivals, recently participating in the Sedona International Film Festival and El Dorado Film Festival. In the following piece, he emphasizes the significance of sound.

      The talented Phoebe Waller-Bridge once offered me advice (through an Instagram reel, nonetheless): “Disarm the audience with humor, then deliver a dramatic punch when they least expect it.” I took this approach in my short film, “Toots.,” which centers on a devoted son struggling with the challenges of caring for his aging mother who has Parkinson’s.

      You may wonder where the humor fits in. It’s found in an extended flatulence scene that leads to a poignant conclusion. This was risky since the success of this scene partly relied on the sound of the flatulence.

      People reacted positively to the script, but a script cannot be heard. I already had a solid concept of how the sound should unfold, but I wasn’t certain about how to translate it into the sound design or relay it effectively to the production team.

      Additionally, the fart sounds available in online sound packets were simply inadequate. I had a modest sound design budget of $1,500, which we exceeded, and a clear vision of how the laughter/tooting scene should sound.

      ‘Toots’ Director Chris Evans on the Search for the Ideal Flatulence

      Our lead actress, Pam Dougherty, agreed to portray the aging mother. In Pam’s “fart scene,” her character experiences a fit of laughter, which triggers a series of toots intended to harmonize with her laughter, as if her diaphragm was releasing both ends. When Pam and I discussed this scene before filming, she mentioned, “I can laugh on cue, no problem. But I’m not sure if I can fart on cue.” I reassured her that no actual flatulence was necessary.

      First, we needed to shoot the scene. I aimed to capture the reactions of the son, played wonderfully by Logan Sledge, along with rhythmic laughter from the mother. We wanted clear audio of her laughter without the toots, so we could add those later. In early takes, I attempted “brrnnhh” sounds, but it didn’t translate well. At one point, Pam looked at me and asked, “What does that mean?” She wasn’t accustomed to her director using onomatopoeia.

      Another unexpected issue was the lengthy time the sound designer required to perfect the sounds. I had to provide placeholder audio for the editors, and a preliminary edit was needed for the composer to start working. Throughout this process, none of them had the final sound design. People were genuinely anxious. The early placeholder fart sounds were quite embarrassing. At one stage, an editor replaced the fart sounds with music, so the audience could hear the laughter, but not the toots.

      For a brief moment, I thought she might be onto something — perhaps we wouldn't succeed. The composer, Lucas Lechowski, was moved by the story but understandably apprehensive about the exaggerated fart sounds in the edit he was working on. Lucas delicately suggested I tone it down. I assured him that my vision aligned with his instincts and that I was still refining the sound design.

      Enter the true hero of this story, sound designer Gregory C. Vilfranc. Gregory and I had an extensive discussion before we committed to collaborating, and fortunately, he was also touched by the story. We explored how the cadence of the farting could mirror the cadence of laughter.

      “Is that even feasible?” I asked. He responded with intricate technical jargon that seemed to indicate a “yes.”

      We continued to tweak everything to find the perfect balance. Each time we adjusted the farts, cut some out, or changed their positions, we ensured that everything sounded genuine rather than cartoonish. It had to reflect the moment in the story that represented a nostalgic reconnection between the mother and the son.

      The fart scene also had to lead into a final scene where the son discovers the mother peacefully passed away in her sleep. Oof, heavy. If we didn’t get this right, the film would be an embarrassment. I found myself giving Gregory feedback like, “They need to sound more subtle,” or “They should sound like they’re slipping out instead of being forced out,” or “They should have a more airy quality.”

      The real magic came from this collaborative dialogue. I genuinely believe we could have continued fine-tuning indefinitely, but eventually, a decision needed to be made. For me, that moment arrived when the “laughing scene” evoked more of a smile than an uncontrollable belly laugh. Just the right amount of humor was ideal. Too much humor would have been counterproductive, while feeling a bit sorry for the mother was just right. Feeling disgusted would have been detrimental.

      The essential factor was that the death scene truly felt heartbreaking.