Jeffrey Epstein. Still making headlines. But the women impacted by his crimes—by his misogyny—are rarely named. Many choose to remain anonymous, but not all. So where are their stories?
Writer and producer Eliza Flug grew up in Aspen in the 1990s, surrounded by a certain kind of man—powerful, privileged, and protected. Adopted into a world of extreme wealth, she often felt like an outsider, quietly observing the misogyny that went unchecked around her. Over the years, she processed those experiences through art, writing, and eventually, filmmaking.
After sharing early drafts of her story with close collaborators, Flug partnered with veteran director Megan Griffiths—whom she had previously worked with as a producer—to bring this deeply personal narrative to the screen. During the pandemic, they launched a wide casting search with casting director Amey René, ultimately discovering a remarkable ensemble led by Sarah Jeffery (“The Six Triple Eight”) as Ivy, the quiet observer and emotional core of the story. Lexi Simonsen plays Ivy’s childhood friend Layla, and Jane Adams and Jake Weber portray Ivy’s parents—Paulene and Huxley. A fun behind-the-scenes note: Adams and Weber attended Juilliard together in the ’90s, a real-life connection that lent surprising depth to their portrayal of a fractured couple.
Set against the rarefied, snow-globe world of 1990s Aspen, “Year of the Fox” follows Ivy as she navigates her emerging identity and sexuality amid the emotional fallout of her parents’ divorce. When her father draws her into the orbit of Aspen’s elite social scene, Ivy encounters a wealthy and predatory figure—and soon finds herself playing by rules she didn’t write and doesn’t fully understand. As illusions fall away and role models disappoint, she must decide whether to follow the paths laid out for her or forge her own.
Directed by Megan Griffiths and drawn from Eliza Flug’s lived experience, “Year of the Fox” is an intimate coming-of-age portrait that examines power, privilege, and the fragility of innocence through the eyes of one teenage girl.
“Year of the Fox” is now playing in select theaters and opens in Los Angeles on August 1st at Laemmle NoHo. The film will be available on digital platforms beginning August 19th.
Eliza, your film is based on your own story, and I’m curious about the autobiographical elements. What inspired you to adapt your experiences into a film? I was particularly moved by your writer’s statement, where you eloquently expressed your passion for telling this story.
Eliza Flug (EF): Thank you. For me, it was really about misogyny—what that looks like on a daily basis. What it looked like in my life. I experienced a lot of it at home, and growing up in a community where extreme wealth and only certain kinds of men held power really bothered me. It was one of those things I filed away thinking, “At some point, I’m going to use this. This is useful.”
I went to film school, photography school, did a lot of writing. I used to work for magazines and Fashion Week, worked with Fern Mallis. And I loved the art I was making, but I didn’t feel like I was communicating the deeper things I wanted to say.
So I went back to film school—UCLA, through a program connected to Sydney Pollack, Tom Skerritt, and Robert Redford. It was a wonderful experience. I kept writing, even took classes on how to write your own novel. I ended up with piles of pages. Eventually, I realized I wanted to do something useful with some of it. I needed someone with an editorial eye to say, “This is the nugget that’s most relatable.” That was Lacey Leavitt and Jennifer Roth. Then we brought it to Megan, and she was like, “We’ll take this, this, this… not this, but this,” and so on. It was quite a process.
Megan, can you talk about how you came into the project?
Megan Griffiths (MG): Yeah. Eliza and I go way back. We met in 2011 or 2012, right after “The Off Hours” and “Eden.” We’ve had a friendship for years—she’s known my work, and I’ve known hers. I’d read earlier versions of this story when it was still a novel. I think it was around 2020 when we started seriously talking about turning it into a film.
Even though we come from very different backgrounds, we both share this drive to look critically at the world, to ask why people behave the way they do. I really connected to that. Looking back at the ’90s—the era we both grew up in—it was just steeped in misogyny and this kind of cultural ickiness that’s really interesting to examine now.
I was especially drawn to the character of Ivy—her relationships with her mom, her best friend, her dad. All of the dynamics felt rich and layered. There was a lot of depth to work with, and I really wanted to dive into that.
I do want to talk about your incredible cast, but first, even though it’s a period piece, it feels so relevant now. How do you both see this story fitting into the current moment?
EF: I have a 17-year-old daughter, and trying to explain to her the context of what’s been—and what women are envisioning for themselves going forward—is something I think about every day.
It was important to me that everything we communicated in the screenplay was grounded in truth. Even though it’s a fictionalized account of my life, the people and the scenarios really happened. The predatory characters are real. They’re in the news now. I lived next door to Les Wexner. The man who used to stay in what we called the “barn house”—one of my dad’s wives later renamed it “Blue Skies”—was a real person.
Having Arden Myrin play Sybil was important. That character is an amalgam of all five of my stepmothers (laughs). They were in it for the money and the lifestyle. They put on blinders to what was happening around them, because they found a formula that worked for them. I really believe a lot of the moral culpability lies with the women in the story too.
MG: I just want to add—it’s wild how the timing worked out. We didn’t plan to release the film in summer 2025, and we definitely couldn’t have predicted that Jeffrey Epstein would be back in the headlines as the top story. Obviously, he’s been part of the cultural conversation for a long time, and that was always part of what informed the film. But the fact that it’s landing now—when people may be more ready to talk about it—is powerful.
What’s often missing from the news is the focus on the women—the many, many women who’ve experienced fallout from their interactions with these men. They’re not getting their stories told. Some want to stay anonymous, which I understand, but culturally, there hasn’t been enough conversation around what happened to them.
That’s why I love that “Year of the Fox” focuses so closely on Ivy. It’s about her personal journey through this world that enabled those men.
EF: Exactly. That’s totally it.
I appreciate you both telling this story. It feels like things went quiet after #MeToo, and I’m glad this brings the focus back to the women. Let’s talk about the cast—Sarah Jeffery is incredible. How did she come on board?
MG: Major props to our casting director, Amey René. She cast a wide net to find our leads—Sarah Jeffery and Lexi Simonseni, who plays Layla. This was early COVID, so all auditions were tapes. We didn’t meet anyone in person until they were already on set or had arrived in Seattle.
Sarah stood out immediately. She had this “outsider on the inside” energy—an intelligent observer of the world. She’s got serious acting chops.
EF: She’s very focused.
MG: Yes—very focused and committed to the craft. After sending in her audition, she reached out to say how much the role resonated with her. It just felt right. And when we met Lexi over Zoom and saw their dynamic, we could envision their friendship.
They had such great chemistry—on screen and off.
MG: Totally. They’ve actually been best friends since we wrapped filming. We definitely saw something real there.
And I love that you cast Jane Adams—
MG: She’s a brilliant actress. I’ve admired her ever since I saw “Happiness,” which, funnily enough, is set in the same year as our movie. She brings such specificity to every role. Her portrayal of Paulene is infused with everything that makes Jane… Jane. Also, fun fact—she and Jake Weber (who plays Huxley) went to Juilliard together in the ’90s. We didn’t even know that when we cast them!
I noticed Ivy is adopted in the story. Eliza, are you adopted too?
EF: Yes, I was adopted as a baby. My parents were living in New York at the time. My dad owned land in Aspen, and by the time I was one, we’d moved there full-time. He wanted a new life—he was going to be a Wild West guy, not a New York City guy anymore.
My mother, who’s still alive—she’s 85—is this petite, freckled, redheaded firecracker. My dad was a short, brainy, very tan Jewish man—like 5’8. Meanwhile, I’m 5’10 with a size 12 women’s shoe. I was great at basketball and towered over my parents. That physical disconnect was a big deal for me.
Later, through 23andMe and other research, I found out I’m half Palestinian and half Swedish.
Can you both talk about working with your composers, St. Kilda, and your editor, Celia Beasley?
MG: I’ve worked with all of them for a long time. St. Kilda is a collective: Matthew Brown, Jeramy Koepping, Joshua Morrison, and Jon Wesley. Josh and Jeramy worked with me on “The Off Hours.” Matthew joined during “Eden,” and Jon during “The Night Stalker.” Eventually I said, “You guys need a name—there are too many of you!” That’s how St. Kilda was born.
EF: Their music made me want to write. I bought the “The Off Hours” soundtrack from Megan’s social media, and I actually wrote this movie—back when it had a different name—to that soundtrack. That’s how powerful it was.
MG: I wrote “The Off Hours” to Josh Morrison’s music, which is why I reached out to him in the first place. It’s just great writing music. For collaboration, they usually come in early. We go through the script together and talk about the emotional beats. Then they send a bunch of tracks—what they call a “shotgun blast”—so I can edit with the actual score instead of temp music. It helps us shape themes early, rather than waiting until the picture’s locked.
EF: It really elevates the process.
MG: And Celia Beasley—our editor—is phenomenal. She’s edited several of my films, including “Sadie,” “The Night Stalker,” and “I’ll Show You Mine.” She’d hole up in her basement, bring cuts out, and collaborate with Eliza and the producers to get feedback. We did lots of test screenings. I really believe in that. Celia’s like the best audience member—even after seeing a scene a hundred times, she’s still fully engaged and working to make it better.
What do you hope audiences take away from the film?
MG: Every project I take on is about contributing to a larger conversation. In this case, it’s about sexual politics and power dynamics—issues that are extremely relevant. I like telling stories where you understand everyone’s motivations, even if you don’t agree with them. That helps build empathy. Especially now, it feels like the right time for that kind of story.
EF: I think Megan did a great job with that. This wasn’t an experiment—it was intentional from the start. We wanted to communicate dissatisfaction with current dynamics and show how different people contribute to the problem. The story balances that well. And Megan’s direction kept it focused. It could’ve gone in so many directions, but she kept it measured and clear.
