About 800 women die every day from preventable causes related to pregnancy and childbirth- an estimated 500 of these are deaths in countries with humanitarian crises and conflicts
The wardrobe is a tiny pocket of happiness in the centre of a genocide
The Woman in the Wardrobe is an urgent tale of hope against the backdrop of destruction. The short film follows Nadiya (Afsaneh Dehrouyeh), a woman who finds sanctuary inside a wardrobe while giving birth to her daughter
We meet Nadiya at the final stages of her solo labour, where she’s locked herself in her family wardrobe with a key that resides on a necklace around her sternum.
Small embers of the brutal outside world stream through the open slats of the darkened wardrobe. It harbours a moment of feminine power and facilitates an internally epic transformation.
The space gifts what is taken away in war and it holds new life and a glimpse of a hopeful future beyond the conflict.
The wardrobe is a womb, a cradle, a portal to safety. It fiercely protects Nadiya and her newborn.
The Woman in the Wardrobe is delicate, horrifying and hopeful. It is everything I envisioned it would be and more
The Woman in the Wardrobe comes at an incredibly poignant time in a culture and society where humanitarian crises are taking a stranglehold of so many different places across our fragile world.
Syria remains the world’s largest refugee crisis, millions of Sudanese are facing famine and all eyes of the world watch on in shock at the atrocities in Gaza.
In war, it is the lives of the innocent who are often the first casualties. It is also those who are yet unborn that suffer the consequences of the actions of others.
With a running time of just 7 minutes, Writer and Director, Ruby Phelan tells a heartbreaking but hopeful story about the impact war can have on women giving birth amidst all its horror.
“Life doesn’t cease to be created in the midst of war,” explains Ruby. “Looking at birth through the lens of war and conflict has been fascinating to me because it speaks to what’s happening in the world today.
“It is also a recurring theme throughout history, and sadly, it will likely continue into the future. There will always be women giving birth in the midst of humanitarian crises or conflicts.”
This short film highlights the sheer power and importance of using cinema to tell a story that needs to be seen and heard, and as Ruby describes it, “The Woman in the Wardrobe is delicate, horrifying and hopeful. It is everything I envisioned it would be and more,”
Shot in just one day it is a raw and emotional look at a narrative that isn’t often discussed in the tragedy of war. It is a portrayal that captures and inflames the imagination and makes you think of the futility of war and those incredible women who give everything they have to bring new life into the world, even in the most devastating of circumstances.
“The film is current, urgent and an artistic vehicle to fundraise for emergency birthing kits to be sent to women and medical professionals in war zones with the United Nations Population Fund and we aspire to have a Parliamentary screening in the near future and are working hard with the UNFPA on our next steps.
“We are very serious about the radical wave we expect to create,” Ruby, tells us. “This is a charity-driven piece and we are really looking to collaborate with people who believe in the cause, the vision and the after-effects film can have.
“Often, issues like these are forgotten or only discussed among women, which is why it’s so important to bring them to the global stage and address them in a political way. It’s crucial that we stop leaving it to women alone to fundraise for maternity care and start recognising it as a critical issue that requires international attention and action.”
The film is highly sensory, transformative and unapologetically feminine
Before her life as a Writer and Director and an accidental activist, Ruby Phelan trained as a professional dancer at The Northern School of Contemporary Dance and worked as a choreographer across Europe before attending the Fontainebleau School of Acting in France. She received a full scholarship for an MA in Directing & Writing at RADA, where she refined her skills as a writer-director.
Her award-winning short films, The Mermaid & The Artist and This Girl Lost Her Body, have garnered international recognition, including a nomination at the Cannes Short Film Festival. They premiered simultaneously in New York City in 2022 and have been featured on the Girls on Film podcast and BBC Radio Four.
Throughout her career so far, Ruby has served as Director’s Assistant on Season 5 of The Crown and directed two sold-out London stage productions, Honeypot and Glassboy.
In 2023, she was supported by The Young Vic Genesis Network to co-write the series Swine. Her debut feature film, Viper, a female-centred folk horror about midwifery, is currently in development with June & Stella Productions and she is also currently working on her second feature film, Hungry Girls.
This year also saw Ruby, along with friend and producer of The Women in the Wardrobe, Cheri Darbon announced as the Activists in Residence at the Feminist Centre for Racial Justice.
“We have used our residency to spotlight the conditions of women birthing in conflict and open up a conversation to help further aid this cause,” says Ruby. As filmmakers we strive to straddle the world of storytelling and activism, and this year we went a step further by partnering with the United Nations (UNFPA) to create our narrative film into real-life tangible action.”
The FCRJ is an organisation that brings together feminist theories on power, protests, studies of diasporas, critical race theories and migration. Its approach is anchored in a research, test and reflection cycle.
“This collaboration is special for me as a filmmaker, activist and the daughter of a midwife. When working on the Maternity ward, I often packed essential birthing kits for the NHS midwives and would place them in all the Labour ward rooms across the unit.
“Using the power of cinematic storytelling to effect tangible global change in support of UNFPA is a unique and ambitious venture. The work they are doing across the world is beautifully synced with mine and Cheri’s ethos on this project
“The film is highly sensory, transformative and unapologetically feminine. Capturing this intimately epic story feels more important than ever before. As long as there is conflict, there will be women giving birth without resources.
“My mission as a filmmaker is to liberate women’s voices, bodies and experiences both in front and behind the camera. My characters are autonomous, deeply rooted and unapologetically raw.”
Throughout our time together, Ruby radiates passion and a contagious enthusiasm for her work and, It was an absolute pleasure for The Atlantic Dispatch to have the opportunity to sit down with her to discuss the importance of The Woman in the Wardrobe, activism, her career so far and her feminist awakening.
Our goal was to create something that would be impactful and hard-hitting, but also hopeful
When I first got the position as an activist-in-residence at the Feminist Centre for Racial Justice, I had a conversation with the head of the feminist centre. Initially, we were discussing a different project—I had gone there to propose something else entirely. But halfway through the meeting, I started talking about birth, because my mother was a midwife, and I used to work with her in the birthing unit when I was in drama school.
I thought I knew a lot about birth being the daughter of a midwife. I’ve been surrounded by things like ceramic pelvises, babies, and birthing balls my entire life.
But when I entered that space with the women, up close, I realised how little I actually knew—about my body, about birth, about the process of contractions, and the complexities women face during childbirth. It’s something that’s so often hidden away.
Even in films, my mum would always complain about the unrealistic portrayals of birth, pointing out all the little details that were wrong. So, I’ve always had a desire to create a birth scene in film that is not only realistic but also includes the presence of a midwife consultant on set.
Anyway, it was during this meeting with the feminist centre, that we were discussing this, and I had an epiphany. I began to see all these links coming together—between birth, the global crises we face, and the power of storytelling.
There’s so much happening right now—not just in Gaza but in Ukraine, Sudan, and other regions experiencing humanitarian crises. I realised there was an opportunity to repurpose fiction, to use narrative filmmaking as a tool for real-world policy change. I wanted this film to be a conversation starter, a vehicle that could speak to a universal audience.
I felt strongly about giving birth the time and space it deserves on screen, supporting an actress through that experience, and working with a predominantly female crew.
I also wanted to use the feminist centre to build partnerships with organisations like the United Nations. The idea was to bring together all these elements, using the story as a focal point to draw in people who could help make an impact.
Our goal was to create something impactful and hard-hitting, but also hopeful. We wanted to show that despite the challenges, there’s hope in the birth of a new generation, in the possibility of safety somewhere.
The wardrobe in the film symbolises that—a vicarious midwife, protecting and enclosing these two people. At the core of this project was the idea of hope, which we’ve also emphasised in our conversations with the United Nations.
We want to use the film as an impact statement, accompanied by conversations and statistics about what’s happening in the world and after that, we can offer hope—through things like donations towards emergency birthing kits. That’s the vision behind it.
The courage to push boundaries as filmmakers
Together with my producer Cheri, who is amazing, we had been talking for a long time in a dreamy way, about being able to connect with organisations like the United Nations, specifically the UNFPA, which focuses on women’s reproductive rights. They provide emergency birthing kits and buckets, train midwives, and even have mobile birthing units.
They also address issues like period poverty, contraception, and sex education. We admired their work from a distance, often using their statistics and information from Instagram to inspire us while we were making the film.
I think it was during post-production—very early on—that I decided to call the Head of the United Nations office in London. I thought, ‘Why not?’ This is one of the key things the activist-in-residence position has given me and Cheri: the courage to push boundaries as filmmakers. It’s taught us that to get our stories off the ground, we almost have to be activists.
That’s something I want to carry forward into my future filmmaking. So I thought, ‘What have I got to lose? I’ll call.’ And bizarrely, she answered! She was actually in the middle of something like the G7 summit and had walked out of a meeting to take the call. I told her, ‘No, Monica, seriously, go back to your meeting. This can wait,’ but she insisted, ‘No, I need to talk about this.’
That call sparked a relationship, and eventually, the UN representatives attended our first private screening in London. It was an industry screening, but we also invited academics, activists and people from different factions of the United Nations, as well as professionals from the film industry.
We then had an incredible Q&A panel with me, Afsaneh Dehrouyeh, Monica Ferro (Director of the UNFPA in London), Sarah Agha who’s the head of the Arab Film Club and Professor Awino Okech.(Head of the FCRJ) We discussed things happening right now, particularly the major conversation about Gaza, which was at the forefront of everyone’s mind.
It was a powerful, embodied discussion. We even had the actual birthing kits at the event so people could see and touch them and really understand what they were donating to.
It’s been an ongoing collaboration with the UN, and they are very keen to use the power of storytelling to advance their message, which aligns perfectly with what we wanted from the start.
It feels surreal but incredibly exciting because collaborations like this are rare, especially for short-form content. You don’t often get the chance to work with platforms that can truly push for action-oriented initiatives. This alignment is a dream come true and a huge step in using film for real-world impact.
That’s what feels so unique and exciting about this project
At the core of everything we did was the desire to have a strong, meaningful impact. I think what’s so interesting about working in a fictional world is that you have a certain level of control.
We can get incredibly close to our subject, and shape the narrative in a way that’s different from the approach of documentary filmmaking. But when all of these elements come together—fiction, documentary, and real-world initiatives, it creates an even greater impact, almost like an ‘ultra impact.’
For example, after our film was screened, we showed a short two-minute UNFPA documentary, and having those two things coexist was incredibly powerful.
Something that’s always been important to me, and what I love doing in my work, is getting under the skin of my characters. I wanted to get really close to the character’s experience, to make it bold and immersive. The audience should feel like they’re on this journey with her, through every breath and every contraction.
We meet Nadiya in the second stage of labour where she’s pushing, and we worked carefully to build the timeline for that with my mum, who was our birthing consultant. She was amazing to collaborate with, and we mapped everything out so precisely, creating a very controlled and safe environment for the actor to explore within.
We only had one day to film, which is not uncommon in these productions, but it was a tight schedule. We had no pre-lighting, so we did the lighting that same day while also building and taking down the wardrobe set.
It was a very fast-paced shoot, but the intimacy we achieved with Nadiya was crucial. We wanted the audience to experience the film from her point of view, but also to feel like they were allies alongside her.
The wardrobe, which I mentioned earlier, became a symbolic safe space. It’s her family’s wardrobe, and we wove in little details like her sisters initials carved on the inside of the wardrobe. These elements represent her family’s presence and support her, even though she’s physically alone. It was important to me that the audience see things through her eyes, but also feel like they were with her, supporting her through this challenging experience.
Throughout the process, I had this vision of combining a narrative, cinematic piece with a clear purpose. We knew what our end goal was. We still have big dreams and ambitions for the film, but what’s rare is having such a direct impact, where the line of action is so clear. That’s what feels so unique and exciting about this project.
I had never considered myself in the context of being an activist until then
My friend Lydia, who is an amazing academic, and I used to go to dance school together. We were both dancers back in the day, but we eventually left dance and went on different paths, though we’ve stayed closely in touch.
Lydia was working at the Feminist Center for Racial Justice, and they opened up a new residency program called the AIR program (Activist in Residence). The centre has many partnerships across various fields, working with artists, activists, and academics, but I don’t think they have ever worked with a filmmaker before.
Lydia had seen my previous work and thought I would fit really well into this space. She said, ‘All of your films have a feminist, activist perspective.’
I’ve always been interested in topics like the male gaze, reclaiming women’s bodies in cinema, and female body politics, so these ideas have been brewing under the surface of my work for a long time. But I had never considered myself in the context of being an activist until then.
It’s interesting because ever since I went to RADA for drama school (I did a directing course there), I had access to a lot of university libraries in Bloomsbury, and I found academic literature—especially feminist literature—really valuable as a springboard for moving into fiction. It gave me a solid foundation. Lydia must have seen this thread running through my work and encouraged me to apply for the residency, so I did, and I got it.
The centre does incredible work, collaborating with many people globally. It’s a small team, but they’re doing something really unique. The activist-in-residence programme is continuing this year, and they’re currently taking applications. It’s such an exciting opportunity, and I feel lucky to have been a part of it.
As for calling myself an activist—it’s a complex position to declare. Cheri and I, who I share the activist-in-residence role with, have talked about this. We’ve referred to ourselves as filmmakers and activists, but it’s a difficult label to wear because you often feel like you’re not doing enough. There’s always more that could be done.
Everything I’ve done has led me to this moment
I’ve been reflecting a lot recently because September has just passed and everyone’s heading to university, which reminds me of when I first went to dance school about 10 years ago now. What I wanted back then is completely different from what I have now, and I’m so happy I didn’t get what I wanted then because it wouldn’t have aligned with who I am today.
Looking back, everything makes sense. Everything I’ve done has led me to this moment. For example, I worked in a birthing unit, and at the time, I didn’t understand how it would fit into my journey. It felt unrelated, especially while also doing a writing and directing course. But now, it’s clear that a seed was planted back then, and it just took time to grow and become relevant to the work I’m doing today.
It’s also interesting because this piece I’m working on doesn’t have any dialogue, yet it encompasses everything I’ve learned. My background in dance has allowed me to incorporate a kind of choreographic score into the film. Movement is ingrained in my body, having danced since I was three years old, and that training has never left me.
Before going to RADA, I trained as an actor in France for a while, which shaped how I direct. My actor Afsaneh has said I’m an ‘actor’s director,’ which I love. My brother is an actor, and I’ve always enjoyed working closely with actors, giving them autonomy over their performances.
I believe it’s important for my collaborators to feel that they have ownership of their work and that they are contributing a piece of themselves to the project.
I’ve been an actor myself and have had experiences where I felt undervalued and placed in uncomfortable situations.
That’s why I’m committed to creating a safe and respectful environment for my actors, especially from a female perspective.
I became angry and upset, and that fire of activism was ignited in me
When I was in France, I learned how to work with actors and really dive into the acting process. I was fortunate to work with some incredible directors and teachers.
While I was there, I also fell in love with cinema. There was an old-fashioned cinema just two minutes from where I lived, and I would go there after class to escape. It was cheap, and they showed a lot of global and independent films, which I loved.
That’s when I started becoming more acquainted with female directors and had a sort of feminist awakening. I became angry and upset, and that fire of activism was ignited in me. I carried that passion with me to RADA, where I learned more about birth and began writing and directing my own work.
After RADA, I worked in high-end TV for a while, which helped me hone my craft, especially in cinema. I’ve had the chance to work with some truly amazing people, and it feels like everything has been building up to this project.
When we finally got the green light to start, I was so ready—me and Cheri were both incredibly passionate and driven.
We were determined to tell this story and to bring on female heads of departments that we had been talking to for a long time.
We assembled a really powerful team, and the day on set was incredibly emotional. There was a lot of crying and a sense of collective energy. It was intense but in a beautiful, positive way.
It was an astonishing experience to be a part of, especially as the director leading it.
Everyone knew that our goal was to raise money for these birthing kits. Even before we started collaborating with other organisations, we were clear that this was our purpose.
We had in-depth conversations with every member of the crew to ensure everyone was aligned with the importance of the story we were telling.
We rehearsed extensively, did a lot of research, and prepared thoroughly because it was crucial that we tell this story accurately and respectfully.
Afsaneh‘s performance was breathtaking. I had already seen her rehearse privately with my mum and me, but no one else had seen her performance.
When she finally ran through the sequence in front of the crew, everyone was stunned. The takes ended up being six or seven minutes long because I wanted her to have the freedom to go through the birth naturally.
The stills from the shoot are funny because they show all of us just staring at the monitors in awe, some of us even crying. It wasn’t a particularly glamorous set, but it was an astonishing experience to be a part of, especially as the director leading it.
I can see how activism has always been present in the stories I want to tell
“I think we’re fortunate that this project can fit into multiple spaces. It has the potential to sit within the activism space, where we could participate in human rights festivals, which is something we’re very eager to do.
There’s also the traditional film festival circuit, which we’re excited to explore. And, of course, we’re working hard to push our collaboration with the UNFPA forward.
On a personal note, I’ve just finished writing my second feature film, which is really exciting. Looking ahead, there are multiple projects I want to get off the ground.
It’s interesting because, as my friend Lydia pointed out, activism has always been brewing underneath my work, even if I wasn’t fully aware of it at first.
The woman-in-the-wardrobe project came along unexpectedly, but now that I reflect on my previous work, I can see how activism has always been present in the stories I want to tell. That realisation excites me as I dive into my next projects.
Having had this experience, I feel ready to move forward with the same level of dedication and care that we brought to this project.
We created such a passionate and committed team, and I want to maintain that same energy in all the work I do moving forward.
I’m also very passionate about building environments on set where people feel comfortable, valued, and supported.
I want to redesign what a set experience looks like, making it a space where everyone feels like they belong, and I’m particularly committed to getting more women involved in these spaces.
Ensuring that everyone’s voice is heard is really important to me, and that’s something I want to continue to push as part of my mandate as a filmmaker.
It brings together all the different things I’ve loved from various aspects of my life
There are a lot of writer-directors that I really admire, and I absolutely love their work. One of my favourites is Věra Chytilová, a Czech filmmaker. She made a film called Daisies, which is one of my all-time favourite films. I think it’s beautiful, really funny, and visually captivating. I just love it.
I also draw inspiration from filmmakers like Robert Eggers, especially his work in dark, folk-horror genres. I love that kind of storytelling as well.”
“I’m really obsessed with genre. I love filmmakers like Rose Glass, especially her work on Saint Maud. I have a strong admiration for genre writer-directors, like Ari Aster and Jordan Peele. I think because of my eclectic background, I also draw a lot of inspiration from other fields, especially dance.
Coming from a ballet and contemporary dance background, I worked with many dance artists whose main goal was to tell stories through movement.
Their approach often had a total theatre feel, like they were creating films on stage, using dance as their medium. Interestingly, many of them have now transitioned into filmmaking, incorporating movement and dance into their films.
I’m also inspired by musicians like Meredith Monk. She’s a bit unconventional, but her work is incredible. I was lucky enough to see her perform at the Southbank Centre a few years ago, and she has such a cult following.
I often use her soundtracks in my work because they really stimulate my creativity. Her music tells stories in such a unique way that it lets me disappear into different worlds.
I try to find inspiration from artists outside of my field too, like visual artists. I love Yoko Ono, especially how she integrates activism into her work, which is very female-focused and driven.
I’m always searching for inspiration in unexpected places. What I love most about filmmaking is that it encapsulates everything—sound, visuals, movement, and dialogue.
It brings together all the different things I’ve loved from various aspects of my life and unites them into one form. So, I’m always looking at everything with that lens.
ALL OF OUR THANKS TO THE WONDERFUL RUBY PHELAN.
FOR MORE INFORMATION ON THE WOMAN IN THE WARDROBE VISIT HERE.
The UNFPA is providing life-saving support to pregnant women in crises around the world. You can help us make motherhood safer, by donating just £4 for an emergency birth kit. Your act of kindness could save a life – or two
BEHIND THE SCENCES IMAGES BY JENNIFER MCCORD
Poster design @amber_brookes_ @intermission_film
BTS @jrcmccord
FCRJ @feministcentreforracialjustice
UNFPA @unfpa
Featuring the astonishing @afsanehdeh
Written-Directed by @ruby_phelan
Produced by @cheribombbomb @juneandstella
The film was produced through June & Stella Productions which is a BIFA winning and BAFTA nominated company that works with bold, challenging and original filmmakers.
If you enjoyed The Woman in The Wardrobe then you may also enjoy Sister Wives.