In an era when coming-of-age stories often lean heavily on nostalgia or cynicism, Nicholas Ma’s Mabel offers something refreshingly different: a tender exploration of isolation, connection, and growth through the lens of an unlikely friendship. The film tells the story of a 12-year-old girl named Cali whose best friend is a small, potted plant—a mimosa pudica named Mabel. It’s a premise that could easily feel gimmicky in less thoughtful hands, but Ma’s film uses this botanical friendship as a gateway to explore deeper questions about how we relate to one another in an increasingly disconnected world.
During a recent appearance on the Film Threat YouTube channel, Ma opened up about the genesis of Mabel, the surprising challenges of filmmaking with a temperamental plant, and why now is exactly the right time for a multi-generational film about finding connection.
The Dream That Started It All
Like many great creative ideas, Mabel began with a dream—literally. Ma recalled falling asleep while reading a magazine article about plant intelligence, only to wake at four in the morning with an crystalline vision: I have to make a movie about a girl whose best friend is a plant.
“I didn’t know what that meant,” Ma explained. “I just knew I needed to do it.” What began as an intuitive creative impulse soon became something more substantive as Ma dove deeper into the science of plant life. The research proved revelatory. Plants, he discovered, possess sensory capacities we rarely acknowledge: they have a sense of taste and smell, can communicate with one another through underground fungal networks, and are capable of warning each other about danger and reacting to threats.
“…maybe I’m also being overlooked and not seen as a kid?”
This scientific foundation gave philosophical weight to what might otherwise have been a whimsical concept. “What would it feel like as a child to have that kind of relationship and think, ‘Maybe I’m also being overlooked and not seen?'” Ma mused. The question cuts to the heart of the film: childhood isolation, the yearning to be understood, and the various ways we seek connection when traditional social structures fail us.
Crafting a Multigenerational Experience
In an entertainment landscape increasingly fragmented by age demographics and content algorithms, Ma was intentional about creating a film that could bridge generations. “I think we need movies that we can watch across generations,” he said. “I feel like that’s harder and harder to find these days.”
Mabel premiered at the prestigious San Francisco Film Festival and received backing from Tribeca Films, which has a proven track record of supporting thoughtful, boundary-pushing cinema. The film’s journey through the festival circuit shaped it into something distinctive—a project that refused easy categorization as either a “kids’ movie” or an adult drama, instead occupying the richer middle ground where the best family films live.
The Ensemble: From Judy Greer to Young Discoveries
Casting proved to be one of the film’s greatest challenges. Ma knew he needed two young actors capable of carrying the emotional weight of his story, and finding them—young performers, named Lexi and Lena—became a crucial turning point in the film’s development.
“To really live within their point of view requires someone who can really carry that character,” Ma noted. “I think sometimes with kids’ movies, we either make our kids blank slates witnessing the adult world, or we lean into Disney characters. Both are great, but I think Lexi and Lena did such a beautiful job.”
“I think we need movies that we can watch across generations.”
Supporting them is the always-reliable Judy Greer, who plays a teacher who becomes a pivotal figure in Cali’s life. Ma spoke with genuine admiration about bringing Greer on board. “When she said yes, I felt like pinching myself,” he admitted. “Whether she’s on screen or in the room next to you, there’s just so much energy and radiates this feeling like ‘I just want to watch you.'” Greer’s casting proved inspired—her ability to inhabit both comedy and drama simultaneously made her ideal for a film that asks its adult characters to meet children with respect and authenticity rather than condescension.
The Mimosa Pudica Problem: On-Set Challenges
Perhaps the most unexpected obstacle Ma faced was the very thing that makes Mabel special: its plant. The filmmakers chose a Mimosa pudica, a species legendary in botanical circles for its dramatic response to touch. When its leaves are stroked, they close up one by one in real time—a visual metaphor for sensitivity and vulnerability that’s impossible to ignore. As Ma explained, “We wanted a plant where you could say, ‘Okay, I get it. There’s something happening here that I don’t totally understand.'”
The problem? Once a Mimosa pudica closes, it takes 15 to 20 minutes for the leaves to reopen.
This meant the filmmaking team needed not one Mabel, but seven or eight plant doubles standing by on set at all times. “People say be careful about making movies with animals or kids,” Ma laughed. “I add moving plants to that list.” The rule became absolute: do not jostle the plants. Violate this, and the production could lose hours waiting for the plant to recover.
When asked if any plants were harmed during filming, Ma admitted with good humor that two didn’t survive the experience—a small price, he suggested, for making cinema. The production is compensated by cultivating a genuine community effort. Shooting in Syracuse, New York, the crew worked closely with local botanists and greenhouse keepers who were thrilled to support the project. This spirit of collaboration became part of the film’s DNA, reflecting the themes of community and mutual care that Mabel ultimately celebrates.
Why Now Matters
What makes Mabel feel timely isn’t just its themes of childhood connection, though those resonate in an age of increased youth isolation. It’s Ma’s broader philosophical stance: that meaningful relationships can exist in unexpected forms, that slow growth matters more than rapid accumulation, and that paying attention—truly paying attention—to the world around us is a form of love.
“…be careful about making movies with animals or kids. I add moving plants to that list of things that you have to be careful about.”
Ma’s previous work, the documentary Won’t You Be My Neighbor? (directed with Morgan Neville) about Fred Rogers, speaks to his long-standing interest in stories about genuine human connection and gentleness in an often-harsh world. Mabel feels like a natural extension of that sensibility, translated into a fictional narrative about learning to see beyond what’s immediately obvious.
The Film’s Release and What’s Next
Mabel is available now on VOD platforms and completed a limited theatrical run in New York. For those seeking cinema that trusts its audience’s intelligence, respects childhood as a legitimate dramatic stage of life, and dares to suggest that a plant might teach us something essential about ourselves, the film awaits discovery.
When asked about the possibility of a sequel, Ma played coy with characteristic humor, joking about “Revenge of Mabel” and the horror film potential inherent in his concept. But the answer was clear: the journey of Mabel is complete for now. And that feels exactly right. Not every story needs a sequel—sometimes the most powerful films are those that know when to close their leaves and let us sit in the quiet for a while.
In Mabel, Ma has created something rare: a film that meets children where they are while offering adults a mirror in which to see their own forgotten longings for connection and understanding. In a world that often overlooks both plants and the young, Mabel asks us to pay closer attention to both.
