The film world in North Vancouver, British Columbia is in mourning after news broke that Holly Atchison, a respected script supervisor and long‑time figure in the Vancouver production scene, has passed away. Friends, directors, and crew members are sharing heartfelt tributes for a woman who brought steadiness, creativity, and kindness to every set she walked onto.
Holly’s work in film and television wasn’t just a job — it was a craft she honed over decades. As a script supervisor, she played a vital role in productions, making sure every shot matched the story’s continuity, timing, and logic. Her deep understanding of the filmmaking process and her calm confidence made her someone directors and crews relied on day after day.
Those who worked with Holly speak warmly of her professional excellence and personal warmth. Filmmaker Ron Oliver often said Holly was more than a colleague — she was part of his creative family. He remembered her not just for her sharp eye and intuitive storytelling sense, but for the laughter and light she brought to long, challenging days on set. Their shared rituals — talking about dogs or swapping stories over a martini — hinted at the easy way Holly made real connections with the people around her.
Director David Winning echoed these sentiments, describing Holly as his rock through a creative partnership that lasted across 12 movies and two series. From remote mountain shoots to holiday films and sci‑fi projects, she was a constant presence, grounding the work with precision and heart. To him, and many others, losing Holly feels like losing a piece of what made their “A‑team” feel like family.
On set, Holly was known as someone who could calm chaos with a thoughtful word or a knowing smile. Junior crew members remember her patience and mentorship. More seasoned professionals speak of her unfailing attention to detail paired with a gentle sense of humor that made the toughest moments seem lighter.
Off camera, Holly’s life was marked by simplicity and warmth. She cherished time with loved ones, embraced small joys, and welcomed everyone into her orbit with generosity and sincerity. Whether sharing a coffee between takes or offering quiet support to friends, she made people feel seen and valued.
Her absence leaves a noticeable space in the Vancouver film community — not just in the credits of the many projects she shaped but in the memories of the people she inspired. As colleagues and friends reflect on her impact, her legacy lives on in the art she helped bring to life and the kindness she showed so freely.
