"A Year" is a film born from the deepest grief imaginable: the death of my beloved six-year-old son. His passing left behind an abyssal void and an overwhelming imperative to construct a survival strategy, to find a way to simply continue. The film opens with a fundamental question: Did my role as Amit's father conclude with his death? This profound inquiry, and the journey it ignited, serves as the emotional and cinematic heart of the film.

Within the film, the intimate space of my home and family gently unfurls, inviting the viewer to become acquainted with the family members who form a central and recurring presence. Parallel to this, we witness my personal quest—the individuals I encounter, the support groups I attend, and the mourning rituals I embrace.

The creative process was woven from images captured within our home, at the cemetery, and during various encounters with other bereaved parents along the way. This entire endeavor has been, and remains, extraordinarily difficult and painful. Yet, it was undeniably necessary, not only as a creative individual whose art is inherently linked to his truth, but also because I sensed that Amit's death had bestowed upon me a responsibility that transcended personal grief. My aim was to chart a kind of emotional map for the socially uncharted landscape of child loss. I found myself compelled to dig deep, searching for books, podcasts, films, and spiritual guides to illuminate a path through this often unspoken and suppressed societal space. My contribution to society, then, is to bear witness and share this experience—as someone who has been there, who is there, who has truly lived it, and who, as a filmmaker, can share the most heartbreaking story, yet one that pulses with love and hope.

Yoni Tzruya