Our Story

Some stories find you quietly.

The Cote Photo entered our lives as a question. On a trip to Costa Rica, we encountered a single image — captured on September 4, 1971 during a government mapping mission. Official. Documented. Undeniably real in its origin. And yet unresolved.

It felt like something we couldn’t shake.

We kept asking ourselves: Would this make a compelling documentary?

Then, one by one, the pieces began to move.

Esteban was on board.
Sergio Loaiza was willing to talk.
Leslie, Michael, Kelli, and Emi opened their lives to us with a level of honesty and vulnerability that felt like a gift.

It didn’t feel forced. It didn’t feel manufactured. It felt like alignment.

Sometimes, when you’re paying attention, the story starts answering you back. The right people say yes. The doors open. The timing clicks into place. And you realize you’re not chasing something — you’re being invited into it.

We began talking about it — about why certain mysteries endure. And why some images refuse to fade. What began as curiosity slowly became something more personal. The photograph felt less like evidence and more like an invitation.

An invitation to look at how we hold the unknown.

As we moved deeper into this project, we realized the film was no longer just about a 1971 aerial anomaly. It became about the people who carry unanswered experiences. Investigators have spent decades examining the negative and encounters with UFO/UAP phenomena. The quiet tension between skepticism and wonder lives in all of us.

Making this film has required us to sit in uncertainty in a way that feels necessary. More than declaring what the object is, we are interested in the emotional space it creates — in the humility of saying, “We don’t know,” and allowing that to be enough. As a storyteller, we feel a responsibility to approach this subject without sensationalism. To create a container where curiosity is protected. Where people can wrestle with doubt and awe at the same time.

The Cote Photo has endured for more than fifty years. It exists whether we explain it or not. For us, the act of making this film is less about solving a mystery and more about honoring the courage it takes to face one.

This story is ultimately about intimacy — with the unknown, with each other, and with the parts of ourselves that are still searching.

And in that searching, we have found something unexpectedly grounding: the reminder that wonder is not weakness. It is a doorway.

This is the first feature film directed, written, and produced by Adam Pillon and Megan Woomer, a husband-and-wife filmmaking team based in Detroit. Against all odds, they remain happily married.

Before embarking on their next documentary together, they may consider a less perilous collaboration—like assembling a house full of IKEA furniture.