When I sat down with filmmaker Naomi Ross, I expected to talk about horror and fantasy, the worlds of shadow and imagination she loves. What I didn’t expect was how deeply she connected those creative choices to inclusion, intention, and the craft of audio description.
Naomi’s voice carries both curiosity and conviction. She said something that stuck with me:
“At first, my family saw audio description as something they had to do for me. Now, they turn it on even when I’m not there, because it makes the film better.”
Her story echoed a theme I’ve seen again and again in accessibility work: the shift from obligation to opportunity.
It’s what I often describe as moving from “you have to” → “you get to.”
That mindset shift changes accessibility from a checkbox into artistry: a way to elevate the story rather than add one more requirement.
Storytelling, Not Reciting
Naomi loves horror, fantasy, and what she calls “complex storytelling.” She uses lights, colors, and texture to explore social issues, everything from identity to representation. When we talked about what makes good audio description, she didn’t hesitate:
“A person doing audio description is telling a story. They’re not just reciting something.”
That line hit me hard. Because that’s the difference between good and bad audio description; between a performance that blends invisibly into the film, and one that pulls you out of it.
Audio description isn’t an afterthought. It’s another storytelling layer. One that can sharpen focus for everyone, not just blind audiences.
Representation as a Reset
Naomi’s films center underrepresented perspectives, specifically race, culture, and disability – and she uses genre to create emotional equality.
“Horror wipes the slate clean,” she told me. “We’re all scared together.”
That word together lit up our conversation. It’s the same spirit I’ve been exploring for years – how connection and shared experience turn compliance into collaboration.
When everyone experiences a story side by side – through visuals, sound, and description – inclusion stops being a favor and becomes the fabric of the work.
Sound Design as Storytelling
Naomi approaches sound design like a sculptor. Her new short film, Dinner and Diatribes, is a psychological horror story set in an old dining room – complete with creaking floorboards, shifting walls, and the quiet tension of cutlery scraping against porcelain.
“Walls make noise,” she said, smiling.
Those small sonic details create the world – and they make her film accessible by design. Even without the picture, you can feel what’s happening. That’s not just good craft. That’s empathy turned into technique.
Collaboration Over Obligation
Naomi is now looking for an audio description partner – ideally someone who loves horror, who “tells stories around the campfire,” who can weave emotion into the narration instead of just listing events.
That’s a model for what real accessibility looks like: collaboration rooted in respect and creativity.
When artists like Naomi lead with curiosity instead of compliance, accessibility stops being a limitation. It becomes a multiplier.
The Bigger Shift
Naomi’s experience reminded me why I keep returning to this simple idea:
When we move from “we have to” to “we get to,” everything opens up.
Audio description isn’t just about access – it’s about connection.
It’s about telling stories that everyone can enter, together.
When filmmakers like Naomi approach it with that intention, they’re not just making movies.
They’re making meaning.
Now what?
🎧 Listen to the full conversation on The ADNA Presents Podcast.
🔗 Follow Naomi Ross on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/wild.grapez/
and
🔗 https://www.instagram.com/dinner.ndiatribes/
and her film at indiegogo
🔗 https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/dinner-diatribes-a-student-horror-short-film#/