A young woman travels to the Blue Ridge Mountains with her grandmother’s late-in-life love to scatter her ashes, uncovering buried stories, unexpected kinship, and a new understanding of love.

A man standing in a dimly lit cozy bedroom with candles and a lamp casting warm light. The room has wooden ceiling beams, a bed with dark bedding, and a window with plaid curtains.

Evergreen is a quiet, intergenerational story that is set against the North Carolinian Blue Ridge Mountains.

After her Nana, Cleo, passes away, Morgan travels with Walter, the man her grandmother loved late in life, to scatter Cleo’s ashes in the places that once held her. What begins as a simple attempt to honor her grandmother becomes something far more unexpected: a trip shaped by gentle silences and an evolving companionship between two people across generations connected by love and loss.

Morgan begins to reframe her understanding of the ways love continues long after someone is gone, and Walter becomes both a guide and a reminder: that chosen family often shows up in the most unexpected forms, and that the people we love leave imprints that outlast their bodies.

Evergreen marks director, Natalie Jasmine Harris’ continued exploration of quiet yet intimate storytelling — of the subtle emotional spaces between people, of the tenderness of Black stories, and of the connections that shape us across generations. It is a film that sits inside memory, honoring how love arrives, transforms, and stays with us even in the quietest moments.

A dark scene with a man and woman holding hands, facing each other, illuminated by a light source above. In the background, a white piano and a drum set are visible, suggesting a music or dance setting.
Close-up of an older man in a tuxedo with a bow tie, looking intently at a person with long hair whose face is not visible, in a dimly lit setting.