Casey House's Latest HIV Appeal Drops F-Bombs to Blast Through Barriers

Inside the hospital's latest powerhouse campaign

There’s a widely held belief that HIV is “solved.” Medically speaking, there’s extraordinary progress. Treatment has transformed what was once a fatal diagnosis into the possibility that one pill a day can allow anyone to live a beautiful, long and healthy life.

But so much has to fall into place for that to be possible. Yes, in a perfect world, HIV wouldn’t be such a big f*cking deal anymore, but we all know the world isn’t perfect.

A perfect world assumes a life with stable housing. Safe access to healthcare. Supported mental health. And freedom from the stigma that can influence both treatment and disclosure.

In speaking with people living with HIV, we heard a very different reality. The issue isn’t whether treatment exists, it’s whether treatment is sustainable. And sustainability depends on far more than medication.

That became the strategic core of “Big F*cking Deal,” the latest installment of our long-running “Smash Stigma” platform for Casey House.

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Rather than create another awareness piece about HIV treatment, we asked a different question: What happens when HIV intersects with housing insecurity, substance use, trauma or mental illness? What happens when those pressures compound?

We tend to silo problems. HIV here. Housing there. Mental health somewhere else. But nothing in real life operates in a silo. Health outcomes are shaped by systems and humanity, and neither is perfect.

So instead of telling a medical story, we chose to tell a human story. I want to stress, this is just one story, but over the years, we have heard countless stories with pieces of what’s in the film. And this shaped every aspect of how the film was made and the experiences of our main character, Jordan.

We worked closely with Academy Award–nominated filmmaker Hubert Davis to ensure the tone resisted sensationalism. This wasn’t about shock. It wasn’t about dramatic decline. It was about accumulation—how small pressures build quietly over time. If this were real life, the events that Jordan experiences would have taken place over a two or three-year time span.

Many of the film’s most intimate moments came directly from conversations with people living with HIV. A mother saying, “Don’t tell grandma.” Medication hidden in a bathroom cabinet before guests arrive. The subtle hesitation before disclosure. These are not headline-grabbing events.

They are ordinary moments. But moments that are universal, and not just for those living with HIV.

Almost everyone understands the vulnerability of someone opening a medicine cabinet and discovering something personal. That universality allowed us to talk about HIV stigma in a way that felt broadly relatable.

On set, we talked a lot about restraint. How long do you hold on to a look? How much do you show versus imply? We also wanted to avoid making the story completely linear. Life is much more complex than that. It zigs and zags. Rejection can exist alongside love. Instability can sit next to moments of connection. If the film feels uncomfortable at times, it’s because the truth is uncomfortable—especially when it reveals how quickly stability can unravel.

A recent study commissioned by Casey House found that only 44 percent of Canadians are confident people living with HIV receive stigma-free healthcare when they need it. That statistic is sobering. But numbers alone rarely shift perception. Stories can.

Ultimately, this campaign wasn’t about re-explaining HIV. It was about reframing it.

Treatment works. The science is there. But science doesn’t operate in a vacuum. Lives are shaped by housing, by mental health, by stigma and by systems that don’t always align.

If there’s one craft lesson learned in this project, it was to reject simplicity. It’s just too easy to tie it all up in a nice bow. Complexity is often where the truth lives.