In his feature directorial debut, Pat Boonnitipat introduces himself as a filmmaker with a keen eye for emotional depth in How to Make Millions Before Grandma Dies. This touching story, presented by Thailand’s leading studio GDH 559, follows M, a young man who temporarily sets aside his dreams as a game caster to care for his terminally ill grandmother, Amah. What begins as a pragmatic pursuit of a multimillion-dollar inheritance gradually evolves into a heartfelt exploration of intergenerational connection, humor, and the quiet resilience of family bonds.
The film has captured the attention of audiences and critics alike, emerging as a formidable contender this awards season. Boonnitipat demonstrates a remarkable sensitivity in his transition to the big screen. He balances universal themes of sacrifice and redemption with the intricate details of Thai cultural nuance, delivering a narrative that feels both personal and profoundly relatable.
How to Make Millions Before Grandma Dies sets itself apart by resisting sentimentality, relying instead on its authenticity and grounded performances. Usha Seamkhum, in her feature film debut as Amah, is a revelation, capturing the sharpness and vulnerability of a woman nearing the end of her life. Opposite her, Putthipong Assaratanakul, in a role that should bring the popular singer many more acting opportunities, brings layered complexity to M, whose journey from an oblivious teen to devoted caretaker and grandson anchors the film’s emotional core.
Visually, the film is beautiful to look at. Cinematographer Boonyanuch Kraithong weaves a tapestry of vibrant and intimate moments, capturing everything from the quiet tension of familial arguments to the serendipitous beauty of a rainbow by the train tracks. These visual elements, paired with Boonnitipat’s deft direction, lend the story a lyrical quality that lingers long after the credits roll.
At its core, the film reflects on the delicate and enduring nature of familial bonds. Drawing from his personal experiences, Boonnitipat crafts a narrative that feels at once deeply rooted in Thai culture and strikingly global in its resonance. The themes of caregiving, legacy, and forgiveness transcend borders, offering audiences a reflective lens through which to view their own relationships.
In a conversation with Awards Focus, Pat Boonnitipat delves into the origins of the film, the artistic challenges of adapting such a personal story, and his perspective on the transition from television to feature filmmaking.
Awards Focus: It’s a pleasure to meet you and congratulations on this incredible film. It’s touching on so many levels.
Pat Boonnitipat: Thank you so much. Thank you for your kind words.
AF: Can you tell us about the journey of this story? How did the initial idea develop into what we see on screen? And what was the dynamic of your collaboration with Thodsapon Thiptinnakorn in co-writing the film?
Boonnitipat: Sure. When I first read Thod’s script, it was more of a treatment—about 16 pages long. It covered the story from beginning to end but was very stylized, leaning heavily into comedy. The heart of the story, though, was the relationship between the grandmother and the grandson. That warmth really resonated with me.
The ending in Thod’s treatment was completely different from what you see in the film, but it still left you with this emotional stirring inside, which I loved. We rewrote everything from scratch while trying to preserve that feeling of connection and aftertaste that would linger with the audience.
It took us two years, working together five days a week for 4-5 hours each day. We shared stories about our families—how our uncles behaved, what our grandmothers were like, even funny details like getting scolded in Chinese. We collected these experiences, wove them into the characters, and let the story grow naturally from there.
AF: The film explores so many profound themes—the love between a grandson and grandmother, the loneliness of aging, and family tensions over inheritance. There’s also humor woven into these poignant moments. Were there specific themes drawn from your own life that were particularly significant to you?
Boonnitipat: Yes, for sure. I grew up with my grandmother. She raised me and all the other kids in our family. We lived in a tiny row house with about 20 people crammed into it. Over the past 30 years, though, it’s just dwindled down to three of us: my mother, my grandmother, and me.
People moved out for different reasons—fights, gambling debts, failed businesses. Some relationships fractured, and others faded away. Through it all, my grandmother stayed in that house.
There was one cousin in particular who hadn’t come to visit in over five years. When he finally did, my grandmother was so excited. Her whole mood changed—she started cooking, preparing things, and was just so happy. Watching her like that gave me the central theme of the film.
AF: This is your first feature film as a director. How did the experience compare to your work in television? Were there particular challenges or opportunities you found unique to filmmaking?
Boonnitipat: Oh, it’s totally different. Especially because you have much more time to go into detail with everything. What I love about shooting a movie is that, personally, I don’t do coverage. I just choose specific points to shoot and then arrange the footage in the editing room.
In order to do that, though, you have to do a lot of homework. And I love doing homework. It’s so much fun—preparing, visualizing, and planning everything in advance.
AF: The two lead actors, Putthipong Assaratanakul and Usha Seamkhum are remarkable in this film. Their relationship is the emotional core of the film, and their connection feels so authentic on screen. How did you approach directing them to create that bond and bring such a heartfelt dynamic to life?
Boonnitipat: I always prioritize finding actors I can communicate with. There are so many talented people, but good communication is key. I got to know both Putthipong and Usha really well, and we became like a big family during the shoot.
On set, the atmosphere was so warm and natural. The chemistry you see on screen reflects how we were off-screen, too. They brought so much heart to their roles, and I think that really shines through.
AF: Usha’s portrayal of Amah feels so genuine, capturing nuances of elder family members. Did she bring her own experiences or ideas to her performance? Were there moments where she improvised to make the character more authentic?
Boonnitipat: All the time. After reading the script, Usha loved it and would often talk about the scenes that broke her heart—like the one where her brother was so cruel to her.
There’s one moment I’ve never shared before: the scene where her character is living alone and praying to the goddess. It’s a brief but powerful moment. Usha genuinely believes in the goddess, and she knew the prayers by heart.
While we were shooting, I typically keep takes short—about 10 seconds. After one take, I called cut, and Usha walked over to the monitor and said, “Don’t cut while I’m praying to the goddess.” That level of commitment and respect for the character and the story was just incredible.
AF: The cinematography is also stunning, with many beautiful transitions. One moment that stood out to me was the scene where a few of Amah’s hairs fall out because of the cancer treatments she’s enduring. You then transition to a train moving left to right that is being shone on by a rainbow. The scene then cuts to her with a completely bald head. Can you elaborate on how those scenes came together and the symbolism of the rainbow in that sequence?
Boonnitipat: So the rainbow is actually real. We didn’t add it digitally—it appeared during our shoot right by the train. The whole crew was mind-blown. The cinematographer quickly captured it, and we knew we had to use it.
Some of the crew even joked about how everything was aligning perfectly for us, almost like it was superstitious. It felt like a blessing. My grandmother had gone through the same thing and I just love how the scene doesn’t over dramatize the shaving.
AF: Do you have a favorite scene in the film—perhaps one that was especially challenging to shoot or one that turned out even better than you envisioned?
Boonnitipat: One of my favorite scenes is the one where M and Amah are walking back from her brother’s house, along the railroad tracks, and arguing about why she wants the burial plot even though she would never know because she’s already dead. It’s a simple but powerful moment, and I just love how raw and heartfelt it feels.
AF: The title of the film is intriguing and feels almost comedic at first glance. How did you and your team decide on it, especially as the tone of the film evolved during development?
Boonnitipat: The title came from Thod’s original draft, which was called How to Make Millions Before Grandma Dies. It was fitting for the initial comedy tone of the script. When we rewrote it and shifted the genre, we weren’t sure how to adapt the title.
At one point, Nelson from WME saw it and said, “I love this. It’s catchy.” We trusted him since his English is better than ours, and he kept it as is.
AF: Are there particular filmmakers or films that have influenced your work? Do you find inspiration primarily in Thai cinema, or are there international directors who have shaped your vision?
Boonnitipat: Oh, so many. Thai directors like Apichatpong Weerasethakul have inspired me deeply. I also draw a lot from Japanese filmmakers like Hirokazu Koreeda and Naomi Kawase, and others like Edward Yang from Taiwan.
AF: The film has sparked great reactions from audiences and critics. Is there a specific response you were most excited about?
Boonnitipat: I’d have to say my grandmother’s reaction. We took her to the premiere, and after the movie ended, people were clapping and sniffling. I ran to her with my camera and asked, “How do you feel?” She was using her cane, walking slowly, and simply said, “It’s just a normal film.” That’s my grandmother!
AF: Among the many themes in the film, what message or feeling do you hope audiences take away after watching it?
Boonnitipat: When I first read the script, I thought so much about my own family. Every draft we wrote—there were about 20—I aimed to keep that feeling of reflecting on my own family alive. I hope audiences watch the film and think about their own families, too.