How Michael Gracey portrayed a child’s safe haven for Shelter

How did you approach developing the emotional narrative from the initial brief?

For me, it all began with contrast. I’ve always felt that emotion lands hardest when it sneaks up on you. So, it was important that we started from a place of joy and imagination – the way children often see the world, even in difficult circumstances.

We cast widely, across the country, until we found [the boy]. And once we did, we built the movement, pacing, and rhythm of the film around him.

If we really feel that lightness, then the moment that follows lands with its own quiet weight. I never wanted it to feel like a twist or a tonal trick. It was about earning the stillness – letting us fall for him, for the way he sees things, and then feeling how much his perspective is carrying him through.

Could you speak about the casting process? Does the young actor, Henry Bell, have training in singing or dance?

Authenticity was essential. We weren’t looking for a polished or trained performance – we wanted a child who could simply be themselves, forget the camera, and feel free to play.

Total Eclipse of the Heart… has that rare ability to hold both innocence and ache.

We cast widely, across the country, until we found him. And once we did, we built the movement, pacing, and rhythm of the film around him, not the other way around. His performance feels real because it is – completely unselfconscious – and that’s what make it resonate.

Above: The casting search was for a boy who could seem natural and dive into the playfulness of the story, 10-year-old Lancashire actor Henry Bell won the role. 

How did you come to chose the film’s song, Bonnie Tyler’s 1983 hit Total Eclipse of The Heart?

We explored several directions before returning to Total Eclipse of the Heart. It has that rare ability to hold both innocence and ache, which was a crucial emotional duality.

The film holds two truths at once: the brightness of childhood and the reality that shapes their lives. The contrast isn’t an artistic construct – it’s honest.

It also mattered that the audience would recognise it. Familiarity lets emotion in quicker, more deeply. Sung by a child – stripped back and unguarded – it becomes something even greater, more consequential. It’s tender, a little haunting, and it stays with you longer after. That lasting quality helps the message stay with you too.

How did your research inform the balance between the film’s playful tone and its stark message about homelessness?

We listened to real stories from families experiencing housing insecurity, and something that came through very strongly was how hopeful and resilient children can be. Even in challenging, complex environments, they find ways to create joy. Their imagination becomes a kind of emotional shelter.

There’s something incredibly uninhibited and vulnerable when he sings a cappella. He isn’t hiding behind a track; it doesn’t drift into fantasy or feel over-produced.

The film holds two truths at once: the brightness of childhood and the reality that shapes their lives. The contrast isn’t an artistic construct – it’s honest.

Why did you decide to have the boy sing a cappella?

There’s something incredibly uninhibited and vulnerable when he sings a cappella. He isn’t hiding behind a track; it doesn’t drift into fantasy or feel over-produced. It stays grounded, something pure and instinctive, and that honesty lets us really feel the emotional shift that comes later in the film.