If you’ve asked me about my favorite film coming out of Sundance 2025, you’ve no doubt heard me sing the praises of Cole Webley’s bleak yet deeply empathetic masterpiece Omaha. The director’s feature-length debut has only grown more relevant since its premiere at the Sundance Film Festival, and it’s finally opening wide this Friday. You can read my full review fresh out of that screening—where the film absolutely decimated me—here.
Set against the backdrop of the early 2000s economic collapse, Omaha follows a father and his two children on an impromptu cross-country journey after the loss of their family’s matriarch. Told largely through the eyes of a perceptive nine-year-old girl and her younger brother, the film captures both the fleeting warmth of familial connection and the crushing weight of instability, grief, and poverty. Webley crafts a road movie that is as intimate as it is expansive, using the vast American landscape to underscore a story defined by uncertainty and survival.
In anticipation of the film’s theatrical release, I had the chance to sit down with Webley to talk about bringing this deeply human story to life. He opens up about discovering Robert Machoian’s script, shaping its emotional core, and navigating the film’s delicate balance between hardship and dignity.
For those who have seen the film, or don’t mind spoilers we also dig into the real-life inspiration that shaped the film’s ending.
Dan Tabor: With the script by Robert Machoian—how did you come across it, and what spoke to you when you first read it that made you want to make it your feature length debut?
Cole Webley: Robert Machoian and I got to know each other because he’s local here in Utah. I’d seen The Killing of Two Lovers at Sundance. We were collaborating on something else, and I asked if he had anything sitting on the shelf. He sent me this script, and I just thought, “Oh my gosh.” When you read something that just is a movie—it’s rare. You read a lot of scripts where you think, “Okay, I can see it getting there,” but this one was ready.
It was originally called Nebraska, and I felt everything I needed to feel. I shared it with my producer, and it aligned with everything I’d been building toward in my career—short films, commercials, all of it. I loved the simplicity, that it was actor-driven, that it fictionalized something real. Someone once said it personifies what would otherwise just be a statistic—that really stuck with me.
We did a rewrite that sharpened the ending, especially that hospital scene. That’s when it clicked: it’s about a father reaching a point where he can ask for help. It’s many things, but that core really drew me in.
DT: One thing that struck me is the restraint in how you show hardship. You never exploit it, and we never feel like we’re looking down on these characters. How conscious were you about that balance?
Cole Webley: Very. The human spirit is resilient, even in trauma. We wanted to show that adaptability—the way people find joy in small things. We really worked on that balance in the edit: how much joy, how much sadness. I thought about my own childhood—raising six boys on a farmer’s income, you make something out of nothing. Camping becomes Disneyland. A small treat feels huge. I wanted that feeling in the film.
There’s always a risk people will call something like this “poverty porn,” but I don’t believe in that. These characters have dignity. The throughline isn’t hardship—it’s relationships and where the story ultimately takes us.
DT: Yeah, it never felt exploitative. You really nailed that.
Cole Webley: Thanks, man.
DT: They say “never work with animals or children” yet you did both and still brought out the best in everyone, how did you do that and what was that like on set?
Cole Webley: Working with kids—and a dog—adds unpredictability. It costs time and money, but the authenticity you get is worth it. This film relies on tone and memory, not heavy dialogue. There were days that were incredibly hard—like the pool scene—but we adapted. The kids brought something real you can’t fake.
It takes a village to make that environment work—to keep them safe, supported, and able to be themselves. That was just as important as anything we put on screen.
DT: To wade into spoilers a bit. About the story—holding back information for that reveal at the end—was that always intentional?
Cole Webley: Yeah. I remember reading it and wanting to know more—that curiosity stayed with me. But we committed to holding back. There were moments we could’ve added more exposition—a phone call, dialogue about the mom—but we didn’t need it. The movie starts with a road trip and ends at the destination. It’s about being in that moment, not explaining everything. It’s a bold choice, but I loved that simplicity.
DT: Were you aware of the real-life event beforehand?
Cole Webley: I knew about safe haven laws, but I didn’t know Nebraska was the last state to enact it—or that they initially didn’t include an age limit. That led to unintended consequences. What’s fascinating is that it came from a place of empathy—people trying to help. Robert discovered the story while living there, researched it, and built this script from it. He made it personal. Then we found the actors and brought it to life.
DT: Finally, as a father yourself, did making the film change how you see fatherhood?
Cole Webley: Yeah, I think it made me look at parents differently. I come from a place of privilege and stability that a lot of people don’t have. It broadened my empathy. It’s easy to sit comfortably and say, “I’d never do that,” but what if you’re facing impossible choices? Stay and struggle with no support, or put your kids into a system so you can try to get yourself stable and come back for them. There’s no good answer. It made me more compassionate toward those situations.
