Filmed across Australia and The Netherlands over almost two years, the powerful new Australian documentary Invisible Injuries explores the unseen wounds carried by soldiers long after service.

Directed by Western Australian filmmaker Kelly Bergsma, Invisible Injuries follows Australian veteran Andy Fermo as he confronts the invisible wounds of military service.

Far from the battlefield, Andy’s journey explores how Post Traumatic Stress Disorder reshapes every aspect of life from identity, relationships, parenting and the struggle to reconnect with family, community and self.

Rather than focusing on combat, the documentary shines a light on what comes after service. Through deeply personal storytelling, alongside insights from clinical experts, fellow veterans and international military leaders, Invisible Injuries examines trauma, recovery and the urgent need for greater understanding and support for veterans and their families.

In this interview, Kelly shares her own deeply personal stories and how they helped shape the way Invisible Injuries was made, making sure everyone involved felt comfortable and supported during filming, and what she learnt about her own experiences with PSTD while making this film.

“It was always going to be human-centric and focused on life after service and how family plays a big role in that. PTSD doesn’t just affect the one person; it affects the entire family structure.”

Interview by Matthew Eeles

Your previous short films have focused heavily on broken men or people in high-stress situations, including Behind Closed Doors, which focuses on a detective with PTSD. Where does your interest in this particular subject come from?

I grew up on an army base and I’ve been surrounded by very strong men for most of my life, but I’ve also seen the other side of it. There were elements there that weren’t spoken about at all, really. Then, when I joined law enforcement, I myself was exposed to it, as were a lot of my colleagues. I saw that the treatment, or lack thereof, of PTSD was something where you just had to shoulder on and keep going. It’s always bothered me that men, in particular, have been told that you have to be strong, you have to keep going, and don’t you dare show anyone that there is some sort of weakness, for lack of a better word. So, when I was writing my short films, a lot of it came from my personal perspective, but there were definitely issues and topics there that I felt needed to be discussed on a more public platform.

What area of law enforcement did you work in specifically?

I was with the federal government as a federal officer with Australian Border Force for three years.

Through your work with the Australian Border Force, you’ve experienced your own battles with PTSD. Would you describe your film work as being more cathartic, or do you see it more as a way to bring awareness to the subject, or both?

I think it’s a lot more about awareness throughout my own healing journey. I’ve picked up a lot of methods and strategies that have helped me, and one of them is definitely writing. The film itself, for me, is a way to put what I think is important in front of people and raise awareness, especially. We see elements of PTSD in Behind Closed Doors that are so relevant, but would otherwise be labelled completely differently in a public forum. They’re all PTSD. I think for me, that’s been part of my healing journey, but it’s mostly to raise awareness and educate others.

How did Double Shot Creative Studios come about? I’m really interested to know more about it and the films you aim to produce going forward.

Double Shot Creative Studios came about because I had a production company originally called One Masterpiece Productions, but that was always as a sole trader. I wanted to level up, so I started Creative Slate Media as a company. Under that, there’s Double Shot Creative Studios, the production company, as well as Double Shot Creative Management, which is the talent agency side of things. That combination works really well for future plans. I wrote a narrative feature film in 2019, and we did the proof of concept in early 2020. Then, the common denominator for many of us, COVID hit. So that was put on hold, and that script is just sitting there. It’s been further developed, but once Invisible Injuries launches and finds a platform, that’s what we’ll be focused on next: a narrative feature film.

Considering your previous job, how did filmmaking come about for you?

I started editing when I was 13. My parents got me my first laptop and I was just editing family holiday videos. They got me one of those camcorders, and that’s how I self-taught editing and a bit of filmmaking. It was always a dream to make films and produce things, so that was from an early age. Then I worked in Canada on Arrow for a season. I moved to Canada, got a scholarship for the Vancouver Film School, and worked on Arrow for a season. I decided to come back to Australia, do my own thing and start my own production company, and take it from there.

How did that work come about on Arrow come about? That’s huge!

That’s funny, actually. I went to TAFE here and did film and TV and thought, There has to be more to it that I can learn in practice. I looked at Canada at the time. To be honest, that was the most affordable working holiday visa in the world. So I thought, Why not? I’d never been to Canada, so I did extensive research, looked at the Vancouver Film School, and they told me there’s one scholarship that they hand out each year. I thought, You know what? You’ve got to be in it to win it. So I applied, went through the whole process and moved to Vancouver before I had an answer. When I was in Vancouver, they said, “Yeah, you’re successful. The scholarship is yours. This is the deal, but we need you to change your visa from a working holiday visa to a student visa, and you can only work 20 hours a week.” At the time, their minimum wage was $11 an hour, and I didn’t know how to sustain myself doing that for a full 18 months. They said, “Ask your parents. That’s what all the other students do.” I told then that’s just not how I was raised. It’s not the background I have. So I sincerely apologised, and I couldn’t accept the scholarship. They had never had anyone say no. So I also had to quickly pivot and tell my parents I got the scholarship, but I said no. I had to find a job really quickly to make all of this worthwhile. I went to many of the networking events and basically said, “Look, where can I start? Can I at least have a go somewhere?” I came from Perth, so in my head, everything that I would take would be unpaid. [Laughs]. And they said, “You know what? Yeah. Are you available for these three days?” I just said yes, thinking it was unpaid, but it was three days, so let’s go. I arrived on set and looked around and thought, Oh God, this is the real deal. This is Hollywood. They handed me the onboarding pack and said, “You have three days to convince us to hire you for the season? Fill this out.” I said, “Oh, payment details?” And they said, “Yeah, it’s paid.” So I worked my arse off for three days and landed the role for the season. That’s just kind of how it all happened.

What was the role exactly?

I started as a production assistant and then quickly became part of the locations department. The way it worked on set was you’re either prep and wrap, or you’re shooting crew. I started on prep and wrap, which means you didn’t really see much action. You’re just prepping the film set for the shooting crew to bump into, and then you wrap that location afterwards. After about two months, they put me on the shooting crew. So then I got to be with the locations department on the shooting crew.

Wow, how exciting! Was it a good experience for you?

It was, but again, you’re coming from Australia where the rules are so different. For Canada and the union contracts that they had, your standard workday was 15 hours. Only after 15 hours would you get paid overtime. I found my payslips the other day and thought, Wow, that was a different world. [Laughs]. So it was a really good experience. You learn to work hard and do a lot. But yeah, it’s definitely a big test on the mental capacity.

Were there many other Australians on that show at the time? I do know some Aussies who were working on it at the time, but were they there while you were there?

Yeah, there were. Even in the cast, Jessica De Gouw was on Arrow at the time, but there were a lot of Perth people, actually. We all kind of ended up there.

How did you come to know Andy Fermo?

I represent his wife, Claire, through the talent agency. I was doing a shoot with Claire and she told me her and her husband Andy were doing an even for the charity which helped veterans. It was only a year or two after I had wrapped up my own mental health charity. Claire told me that they became homeless during COVID. They had a caravan, toured around Australia in the caravan, slowly making their way back to Perth, where they’re from. We got talking and I asked her about Andy’s story. She told me it would be better for me to hear it from Andy himself. So I met up with Andy and heard his story and said, “Are you open to meeting again and talking some more?” Obviously, with my childhood being on an army base, I was quite interested to learn more. We met up again, had another coffee and probably chatted for two hours. I said, “Look, if you’re interested, I’d love to make a documentary about this so that together we can help other veterans and people with PTSD start their healing journey, or at least feel seen, but also educate the general public on veteran mental health and mental health in general.” Straight away he told me her was in. This was always a dream for me: to make a film that could educate and help others, even if it was just one person.

Andy shares some extremely detailed stories of his own traumatic experiences. How was the film explained to Andy at the beginning, and what kind of conversations were had leading into filming regarding how much you expected Andy to reveal about himself?

We left that with Andy from pretty early on. We basically said, “Look, we know the story you tell publicly and we’re happy to keep it as such, but what do you think will be helpful to share? And how much is there to share that, without putting anyone at risk, would help someone else?” He knew it would get quite emotional and intense, but we essentially we told him to let us know if there were any no-go areas. There were a few, which was fair because, with special forces, there’s so much confidential information and things you just can never talk about from a training perspective. So we left that with him and then built a story around it. It was always going to be human-centric and focused on life after service and how family plays a big role in that. PTSD doesn’t just affect the one person; it affects the entire family structure. So we made sure an element of the story was definitely his traumas and his PTSD and how it came about. But the majority of it is: how do you find purpose again when things within you have permanently changed?

What was his family’s reaction when asked to be a part of this documentary?

The kids really wanted to be in it and we said no. They were 10 and 14 at the time. That just wasn’t a good idea.

Why?

For us, they’re learning more and more about his story and about PTSD, but at the age of 10 and 14, you have a whole life ahead of you. We wanted to make sure that, as much as they were excited to be in a film that would play on the cinema screen, we were very protective over their identities because you just never know. With the current landscape as well, it was something that we wanted to protect their mental health. For us, the number one way to do that was to just not put them on camera and not have them tell part of their story, which they might regret later.

Sorry, I did interrupt there regarding the rest of his family. Please continue…

Claire was relatively willing to help tell the story. She made it very clear that she is an actress, so she didn’t want people to think that she was acting on camera, which I think shows how genuine she is on camera. There’s no aspect of acting to it at all.

You did touch on this a little, but some of the stories shared throughout the documentary are quite revealing. In general, how does the army fraternity view its colleagues who reveal so much about their experiences of war? Is it encouraged, or is there more of a “put up and shut up” attitude?

It depends on the person, I would say. I think there are levels and layers to this, and there are people who are obviously actively serving who might have a very different point of view. But in an overall sense, I think there’s a lot of respect within the armed forces and within the community as well that this is someone’s personal story. This isn’t a reflection of anyone else. This is Andy’s story, and that’s how we open the film. In no way, shape or form are we telling a story that is identical to the next person in line.

Could there potentially be any backlash? Is that a concern for you?

I think with any film that you make, that is a concern, especially when it comes to a topic that is mental-health related. There’s always an element where you risk backlash, whether that is within the armed forces, first responders, or even if you look at places like mining and the construction industry, where there is still, to a degree, a stigma around mental health. I think in the community in general, there’s more conversation about it now, but that doesn’t mean that you’re not at risk of backlash.

There’s a warning at the beginning of the film which welcomes audiences to remove themselves from the cinema if they feel the need to. It made me think about this from a filming point of view. As the director, how did you personally handle pauses and breaks during filming when it became a little too much for Andy or other people featured in the documentary?

That’s a great question, and I’m glad you brought that up. We ended up scheduling his interviews in three different sessions. The first session went for about four hours and, roughly every 45 to 50 minutes, we took a 10-minute break. We debriefed and did a mental, emotional and physical check-in to make sure everyone was okay, the crew included, because you’re obviously listening to a lot of material that can stay with you. Luckily for us, we had a clinical psychologist available as well to debrief with, because if you’re not in that field, it could be something that stays on your mind for a little too long. So we made sure that both Andy and the crew had enough breaks. We did all the debriefs and check-ins, and that first interview really set the tone. When we scheduled the next one, there was a good month break in between. Between the second and third, there was about six to eight weeks as well. We made sure that none of that followed back-to-back. Even some of the other elements of filming, we made sure there was a good two weeks to just decompress.

Now I’m curious to know about your own education into handling these kinds of situations.

From a filmmaker point of view, there’s two elements to it. You’re working as a filmmaker, but you’re also human. Having your own mental health at risk just as much, I had to make a safety plan for myself because if I’m not functioning, nobody is. So I had to put strategies in place with my clinical psychologist to stay healthy throughout that process. Then, throughout the preparation and pre-production of the film, we engaged with a risk manager, a clinical psychologist and a GP, as well as obviously Andy, his family and his support network, to really map out what we could do within those safety briefs and parameters to keep this production essentially on track without jeopardising anyone’s mental health. We made safety plans. We had an entire risk matrix for emotional, mental and physical wellbeing for the people, as well as for the project, because you do have to wear both hats. Once you start filming, the project has to be completed, but not at any cost. Our risk management plan was probably developed well and truly before the camera started rolling. Then we had probably a one to two-hour meeting with everyone to outline, “This is what you can expect. However, obviously, it’s a real story, so we can’t fully script an element here to prevent things, but be ready. Are you okay with that? These are some of the topics and materials that you might hear about or see. Is that okay? What do you need?” Our safety management plan on set stated that if anyone needed to take a break they could. We actually crewed double for some moments if anyone needed to step out for an hour. That was totally fine.

Was there any aspect of trust-building between yourself, your crew and the subjects of this documentary before filming?

I think we were very fortunate. The two generals that are featured from the Royal Dutch Army, I actually grew up with them. Especially one of them, Mart. I was born in Germany on an army base, and he was my dad’s colleague at the time. So I’ve known him since I was very little. So that trust was established, and the same with the other general, Peter. The other that we interviewed, especially Andy’s colleagues, I think the trust was almost built in because Andy trusted us. That camaraderie that they have when he goes, “Hey, they won’t hurt you. They won’t film anything that is detrimental to you, your life or your family. You can trust them,” was a huge thing. And we did that in, I would say, a slow-burn way. We asked them months in advance. We shared some questions, we shared the idea, so it was a bit of a slow burn. But then we filmed it in a very remote location.

It’s all very casual, especially around the campfire.

The campfire played a big part for us. The guys were just having a yarn and we were just rolling the cameras, but we weren’t going to ask the guys any questions. The guys were fully in control of those conversations.

As I said at the beginning, you have your own experiences with PTSD. Did you learn anything about yourself while listening to other people’s stories throughout the making of this film that has assisted you in your own struggles?

I think with mental health, and especially with PTSD, you never know everything. You know a lot about your own PTSD and managing certain situations and triggers in your life, but you’re never fully educated. So listening to the veterans tell their side of the story and how they manage and deal with things, as well as the clinical psychologist and everyone else on camera, you’re always going to learn something new that you can try. It might not work for you, but at the same time, it could be an angle that you’ve never actually implemented for yourself and your own wellbeing. So I’d say I’ve learned a few things from everyone and from the story itself. It’s so important to hear other people on camera talk about this openly because even if you don’t have PTSD, someone in your network, circle or family might have it. It just brings that additional perspective to it where you think, Oh, when this happens to this person, it might not be what I think it is. It might actually be something that they’re struggling with internally. It’s not necessarily a reflection of the family, the friend group or the situation at hand. It might just be that they’re actively struggling and going through something.

Your next project, The Lesbian Club, is such a giant step in the opposite direction to this documentary in terms of genre and themes. What can you tell us about that?

[Laughs]. It really is. So that is in pre-production. I wrote that as my therapeutic tool while making this film. I needed something to offset my headspace, essentially, whilst editing this feature-heavy edit. So I started writing a comedy web series called The Lesbian Club. It’s a six or seven-part web series about a dodgeball team, almost like the misfits of sport.

Is there a shoot date locked in?

Absolutely. We were going to film at the start of this year, and all the talent is from Double Shot Creative Management. As you’d know, when you start planning to film something, calendars are the enemy of any production. Several of the talent got booked on month-long gigs. [Laughs]. All of a sudden, we had to organise eight calendars of adult people with big lives. It’s like this curse. [Laughs].  Every single time I’m like, “Okay, I think we’ve got it now. We’re going to film this,” someone gets booked on something. But the goal is that this is filmed before the end of the year.

Invisible Injuries will celebrate its world premiere at CinefestOZ on Saturday, 5 September. Details here.

You can also see it on the following dates and times:

Luna Leederville Sunday 6 September 2026
Dendy Cinemas Canberra 10 September 2026
Dendy Cinemas Canberra 12 September 2026
Dendy Newtown Sydney 13 September 2026
Dendy Newtown Sydney 14 September 2026

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