Seed & Spark – Page 2

Seed & Spark: Finding Ourselves In Our Work

We are so quick to label adolescent girls as these terrible, unruly, hormone-driven monsters, but underneath the name-calling and back-stabbing, where do the behaviors originate? It’s easy to say that we, as women, should be holding one another up rather tearing each other down, so why do we lash out so quickly at one another?

the youtube diaries that became the installation, yr a slut (2010) — The *YouTube* diaries that became the installation, *yr a slut* (2010)

This is a guest post by Megyn Cawley.

Sluts, famewhores, gold-diggers – all terms I was encouraged and paid to use while working in the entertainment media industry in my early 20’s. After a long stretch of unemployment post-undergrad in the late ’00s (hello, recession), I gladly accepted a position as an editorial assistant with a somewhat infamous media company. Initially, I was so stoked to have landed the job, but the thrill of “working in Hollywood” quickly wore off. My workdays became a daily exercise in shaming women’s appearances and pitting them against one another. It was difficult for me to digest that my weekly paycheck depended on perpetuating these antiquated stereotypes and gender divisions. Who am I to publicly deface any woman as an “off-the-rails coke whore” or “lezbot”? How is a broke lil’ feminist with minimal job experience supposed to stay afloat in an inherently misogynistic industry without defaulting on her student loans? By turning to art.

Although leaving my job was not a realistic option at that moment in time, I realized if I could make films and videos aligning with my feminist point of view, they would somewhat diffuse the growing pit in my stomach screaming, “WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR MORALS, GF???” While attending the California Institute of Arts for my MFA in Film & Video, I started scavenging YouTube for video diaries of teenage girls for an installation. The first-person videos feature young girls publicly declaring their classmates and frenemies as “sluts” and “whores,” all while giggling, suggesting punishments for the girls who may or may not have wronged them. I felt like I was watching a real life version of the the snark I perpetuated at my job. When cut together in rapid succession, the nonstop string of of these girls publicly humiliating their peers from the safety of their bedrooms quickly turned barbaric. We are so quick to label adolescent girls as these terrible, unruly, hormone-driven monsters, but underneath the name-calling and back-stabbing, where do the behaviors originate? It’s easy to say that we, as women, should be holding one another up rather tearing each other down, so why do we lash out so quickly at one another?

still from girl (2012) — still from *girl* (2012)

I began exploring the psyche of the adolescent female for my graduate thesis film, GIRL. I interviewed women of all ages and backgrounds, asking them a series of the same questions – “How would you describe your teenage self?” “When did you become conscious of wanting to belong to a certain clique or social circle?” “Did you ever feel isolated or depressed?” and so on. Although the experiences varied from woman to woman, the psychology driving their behaviors was almost identical- the desire for validation of self. Surprise, surprise- teenage girls have an inherent desire to be accepted, to have their existence validated by someone outside of themselves. If I feel self-conscious about my appearance, you better be damn sure I’m going to make you feel self-conscious too. I soon realized, through making the film, that being open and candid about our personal experiences in adolescence, our empathy for one another as adults can grow tremendously.

My goal is to bring that understanding of commonality of self to my newest project, LIL’ MER (currently crowdfunding on Seed & Spark). The short film is an experimental retelling of the classic Hans Christen Andersen fairy tale, The Little Mermaid, using the framework of the story to explore gender identity and self-actualization. The story centers around Mirabella, a young woman struggling to express her inner self, and turns to a late night infomercial for the solution. The desire to shed our insecurities and feel free be our true selves is one of the hardest struggles we encounter, and by making this film, I think I may be one step closer in my own path to finding her.

Megyn Cawley is a multimedia artist and filmmaker based in Los Angeles. By channeling nostalgia and camp ethos through the juxtaposition of analog and digital media formats, her work explores the expression of ego, self and gender identity. Megyn holds an MFA in Film & Video from the California Institute of the Arts, and has exhibited her films and multi-channel installations across the western US. She is currently in pre-production and crowdfunding for her latest short film, LIL’ MER.

Seed & Spark: Vive La Revolution!

In my own life, I’m embracing the idea that films can make a difference, and that they do. It’s not just the content of the film, but how we make them, how we finance them, how we share them.

Scene from Test Shoot for Of Dust and Bones — Scene from Test Shoot for *Of Dust and Bones*

This is a guest post by Diane Bell.

Last year, like many people I know, I was overwhelmed by the terrible events unfolding across our world. From Ukraine to Gaza, from the streets of Ferguson, Missouri to the ongoing war in Syria, it seemed like the world was reaching breaking point. It felt like it was all falling apart.

At the same time, I was facing my own small battles, finishing my second film, Bleeding Heart, which just premiered at the Tribeca Film Fest. Bleeding Heart is a kind of feminist fantasy thriller starring Jessica Biel as an affluent yoga teacher and Zosia Mamet as her biological sister, a young sex worker trapped in an abusive relationship. It was born from my desire to see on screen a story I rarely see: a woman rescuing another, a celebration of strength in sisterhood and the sacrifices we can and should make for it.

In the depths of my struggle to finish it, I wrestled with the question of why I make films. The process can be so long and hard, financial rewards so meager; what is the point? Why do it? In the face of so much real suffering and true hardship in the world, is it just a vanity? Wouldn’t it be better to pack it all in and do something truly meaningful? Something that could help the world be a better place? Isn’t that why we’re all here?

[youtube_sc url=”https://youtu.be/IB08M3b0rYM”]

Concept trailer from test shoot for Of Dust and Bones

As I meditated on these questions, I kept coming back to this belief: films can change our world. The stories on our screens don’t just reflect our reality, they create it. And that is why it is essential that many different voices are empowered to make movies and why as audiences we must seek out the voices that inspire us and support them however we can. We can’t let the only movies out there be those that support the Big Lies (no matter how entertaining those movies can sometimes be). We need films that tell small, honest truths, that shed light onto our shared humanity, that enable us to explore the problems we face individually and collectively, and help us see a way towards positive change in our troubled world.

After coming to these conclusions, with my producing partner, Chris Byrne, I launched the Rebel Heart Film Workshop to teach two-day intensives on how to make a standout indie film. These workshops are not only for people who already consider themselves narrative film directors, but also for storytellers of all kinds: actors, writers, producers, poets, activists, documentarians, artists. Based on our own experiences making our first film, the Sundance award winning Obselidia, we break down the process of making a film to 16 simple steps and provide a clear blueprint for how to make a stand out indie. My hope is that through these workshops we will empower diverse voices to tell their stories in films – and to do it successfully.

To that end, we share the honest truth about making films. There’s no gloss, no lies. We share our budget, our schedule, the amounts of money we made from different sources. Crucially: we share our mistakes as well as the things we did right, something incredibly rare in our industry – and in doing so, we give other filmmakers a shot at making better choices with their films, creating a situation where they can make films over and over, regardless of whether their first or second (or third or fourth for that matter) is as outwardly successful as they hoped.

Still from Bleeding Heart — Still from *Bleeding Heart*

Through teaching these workshops, I realized that I had to walk the talk. What I was teaching about building community, about making creatively risky films that come from the heart: this is what I had to do again myself. And so I wrote a film called Of Dust and Bones.

This film is as far from mainstream as you could imagine. It was borne totally from my reflections on the global situation last year, particularly the ongoing devastation in Syria, as well as my horror at the beheadings of journalists James Foley and Steven Sotloff by ISIS. These are not sexy, easy to market, Hollywood subjects, but it’s where my heart was.

I started to dig into the idea of a film about the widow of a war journalist who–following his brutal murder–has retreated to a reclusive life in the desert. The only sane reaction to an insane world, she believes, is to have nothing to do with it (something I often feel myself). An uninvited guest arrives: her dead husband’s colleague, and he’s come with an agenda. He wants the rights to her husband’s last work for a film that he is making – rights that she doesn’t want to give him.

From Test Shoot for Of Dust and Bones — From Test Shoot for *Of Dust and Bones*

The film wrestles with the question: can a film change the world? Can a picture? What is worth sacrificing to get that picture or make that film?

These aren’t easy questions and I don’t think the film will give easy answers. In my own life, I’m embracing the idea that films can make a difference, and that they do. It’s not just the content of the film, but how we make them, how we finance them, how we share them. To that end, I’m trying to make this film in a far more community based way than my previous works. I’ve been blogging about it on my website and we launched a crowdfunding campaign, not just to raise crucial finance, but also to involve a village of people in the making of it.

The world still often seems like an incredibly dark, chaotic, violent place, but I honestly believe the only hope we have is to come together, support each other, and create strong community networks that are founded upon shared dreams and stories.

We can’t do it alone – any of us. But together we have a real chance to create the world we want to live in. Let’s do it.

Diane Bell is a writer and director. Her second film, Bleeding heart, a thriller starring Jessica Biel and Zosia Mamet, premiered Tribeca 2015. Her first feature, Obselidia, premiered in Dramatic Competition at Sundance 2010, winning two awards and was nominated for two Independent Spirit Awards. She recently launched the Rebel Heart Film Workshop, teaching how to make a stand out indie film, and is currently raising funds for her next feature, Of Dust and Bones.

Seed & Spark: Being Bossy, Unbreakable, and Daring Greatly

But as Sheryl Sandberg’s Ban Bossy campaign states, “When a little boy asserts himself, he’s called a ‘leader.’ Yet when a little girl does the same, she risks being branded ‘bossy.’” As a 28-year-old, I can vouch that it’s not just little girls that are affected by “bossy.” I’m trying to Ban Bossy in my own brain (or accept that I am a boss and it’s OK if I’m “bossy”) and it got me thinking about our society’s gender expectations and how they can hold all of us back.

This is a guest post by L Jean Schwartz.

Occasionally recently I’ve wondered, “Am I being bossy?” I’m a writer/director/producer, currently crowdfunding for my first feature film The Average Girl’s Guide to Suicide, and the sole manager of the LLC for our film. So, I am a boss. (Not like this, but a bit like a #bosswitch). But as Sheryl Sandberg’s Ban Bossy campaign states, “When a little boy asserts himself, he’s called a ‘leader.’ Yet when a little girl does the same, she risks being branded ‘bossy.’” As a 28-year-old, I can vouch that it’s not just little girls that are affected by “bossy.” I’m trying to Ban Bossy in my own brain (or accept that I am a boss and it’s OK if I’m “bossy”) and it got me thinking about our society’s gender expectations and how they can hold all of us back.

In Brené Brown’s book Daring Greatly, she writes that according to society’s rules women have to “be willing to stay as small, sweet, and quiet as possible, and use our time and talent to look pretty.” This made me laugh out loud, because A) I have often felt pressure to be as small, sweet, and quiet as possible, and use my time and talents to look pretty, and B) as a director you generally should not try to be as small, sweet, and quiet as possible or use your time or talents to look pretty. It’s not bad to be small/sweet/quiet/pretty if that’s your nature, but forcing yourself to be as small or quiet as possible is rarely conducive to getting a movie made. Personally I’m not small, not often quiet, I try to be kind (but not saccharin sweet), and I’m no beauty queen. As we’ve been expanding our team, talking to more people about the film, and crowdfunding, I’m constantly running into the societal expectations embedded in my brain. Self-promotion is not small, sweet, or quiet. Making a dark comedy about suicide is not small, sweet, or quiet. Asking people for money is not small, sweet or quiet.

Behind the scenes of making the teaser video for The Average Girl’s Guide to Suicide. — Behind the scenes of making the teaser video for *The Average Girl’s Guide to Suicide*.

Luckily I’m not alone in this struggle. Brené Brown writes: “…every successful woman whom I’ve interviewed has talked to be about the sometimes daily struggle to push past ‘the rules’ so she can assert herself, advocate for her ideas, and feel comfortable with her power and gifts.” If you’re reading this, it’s likely that you can relate also. Think about how incongruous it is for female CEOs, doctors, or fighter pilots to be concerned with being small/sweet/quiet/pretty. I hope you just laughed. Perhaps the next time you feel pressure in your own life to be small/sweet/quiet/pretty, remind yourself of that laugh you just had.

Women aren’t the only ones who are hampered by society’s expectations; “the rules” for men can be just as suffocating as “the rules” for women. According to Brown these expectations for men can be summed up as: don’t be wrong, don’t be weak, and don’t show fear. If men step outside those lines, they are often shamed. The more I’ve leaned into leadership roles, the more I’ve felt these expectations too and they aren’t fun. Recently I felt so scared about whether we would hit our crowdfunding campaign goal, and felt like I needed to keep a brave face for everyone else and not show my fear. Then I realized the trap I was falling into. I’m lucky to have friends and family who are there for me, and even several friends who have told me that the middle of a crowdfunding is a terrifying desert. Getting support from friends and family and remembering that I’m not alone help me get out of shame spirals.

There have been several articles recently critiquing the concept of “Strong Female Characters.” The problem isn’t with realistic female characters who show resilience, but instead to women who are…basically dudes. From one such article: “A female character simply having typically masculine traits doesn’t necessarily strengthen her; it only promotes the view that men are the strong ones in the world, and that to be strong means to emulate them.” I would also argue that in real life, to be strong women we don’t need to try to be strong men. I’ve been that girl: trying to be stronger, tougher, and more foul-mouthed than the guys, and it’s exhausting. Because though I can be strong, tough, and sometimes rather foul-mouthed, I am also very empathetic, caring and sensitive. Trying to be as strong and tough as possible doesn’t leave room for empathetic and sensitive, and I believe it’s better to embrace your true nature rather than fake another. A friend has a poster that to me has good examples of how letting go of gender norms can ease the burden on both genders. I look forward to a world where we can accept and celebrate men and women equally for their sensitivity as well as their strength.

Recently there’s a new strong feminine heroine: the Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. She encourages others to pursue their dreams, and determinedly pursues her own. She likes helping people, she’s good at it, and she also takes care of herself. She’s strong because when she gets knocked down, she gets back up. Kimmy Schmidt shows that being kind, optimistic, and supportive can be part of being strong.

A little rain won’t stop The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt! — A little rain won’t stop the Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt!

As a woman and a writer, it’s encouraging to see strong and empathetic characters. My film is about a young woman’s journey to accept herself and create a life she wants to live, and it took several years of working on the script (and “doing the work” in my life) to really understand what self-acceptance feels like. It’s easier to write about a character accepting herself than to accept myself, and it’s still something I work on every day. I love how fictional characters can help teach us in our real lives, and my characters continue to teach me. They push me and challenge me to be as brave as they are, and I hope they can inspire you too.

L Jean Schwartz makes comedies about things you’re not supposed to laugh about, such as LOVELY STALKING YOU, IN SEARCH OF MY FIRST EX-HUSBAND, and THE AVERAGE GIRL’S GUIDE TO SUICIDE. Hailing from San Clemente, California, she fell in love with filmmaking when she made a behind-the-scenes documentary about the film BRICK at age 17. She’s a graduate of USC’s School of Cinematic Arts, and is currently crowdfunding for her first feature film.

Seed & Spark: The Feminist Act of Telling a Man’s Story

‘The wHOLE’ explores humanity, exposes the prison industrial complex which controls and subverts the humanity of all those it houses, and in the course of the series it invites viewers to grow in empathy for a person, who, for some, would be otherwise unlikely to evoke it.

This is a guest post by Jennifer Fischer.

As a female filmmaker, I’ve asked myself many times why my latest dramatic project, The wHOLE, focuses on a man in an almost exclusively male milieu. In the pilot episode, no women appear on screen until the very end of the episode, and then only for a few minutes.

Given the show’s subjects–torture, racism, mass incarceration–to begin the series with a woman in solitary confinement would have been equally powerful, and equally realistic.

A part of me longed to begin the series there. Perhaps a woman was sent to an isolation unit because reported she had been raped by a correctional officer (as is quite common), or perhaps a transgender woman was sent to isolation “for her own protection,” only to find that isolation offers no protection, but only psychological, emotional, mental, even physical trauma.

We could have started the series in these places and more, but we didn’t. We started with Marcus, an African-American male.

We start the show with an individual unlikely to receive sympathy from most viewers: we offer no immediate explanation for why he has been sent to solitary confinement, nor do we hint at why he is imprisoned in the first place.

This individual is defiant, he has rage. This is an individual that many might think deserves his punishment.

Though the story centers on a man, telling his story becomes a feminist act. A friend recently shared her definition of feminism with me: “The crux of feminism is about equality. Feminism cannot ever be separated from the multiple layers of our identity—race, class, culture, etc. Feminism is about exploring our underlying humanity and the forces which try to control or subvert us.” Drawing on this understanding she went on to say, after watching our pilot episode, “Your story is a feminist story.”

Yes, I realize, it is. The wHOLE explores humanity, exposes the prison industrial complex which controls and subverts the humanity of all those it houses, and in the course of the series it invites viewers to grow in empathy for a person, who, for some, would be otherwise unlikely to evoke it.

As I developed this project, I did a lot of research—speaking, meeting, and working alongside individuals who have themselves lived the experiences we’re highlighting. Cast and crew on the project have spent a combined seven years in solitary confinement.

And lately, I’ve been reading and listening to Angela Davis, a feminist and prison abolitionist icon, who spoke the now familiar phrase, “The personal is political.” She references Beth Richie, who discusses the ways that current incarceration practices reinforce “the intimate violence of the family, of the relationship… [t]he individual violence of battery and sexual assault.” The current system fails to offer restorative justice or solutions that benefit our society. It offers no solutions worthy of a feminist paradigm.

Solitary confinement is perhaps the most violent, most dehumanizing aspect of the prison industrial complex. When a person is placed in a small box for 23 hours a day with no human contact, it strips identity from them. It calls their existence into question. It is domination and subjugation at the most intense level. It is everything that feminists struggle against.

Bringing this hidden reality (facing approximately 80,000 men, women, and children in the U.S.) to light in a very authentic and real way is an act of feminism, an act of defiance, and an act of hope. Feminism is uplifting not only to women. Insisting on the humanity of all is a feminist act.

Angela Davis says, “Prisons are constituted as Normal. It takes a lot of work to persuade people to think beyond the bars, and to be able to imagine a world without prisons and to struggle for the abolition of imprisonment as the dominant mode of punishment.”

She’s right. We’ve come to see prisons as a way of life. Some viewers of the series may think the system is working because they are not affected by the problem. And if it doesn’t affect them, they need not act. But the truth is this series is about the whole of our society—our acceptance of a violent, oppressive system that only echoes the worst of our history (colonialism, slavery, patriarchy).

Davis does insist that a feminist approach to understanding prisons must focus on imprisoned women as well, not exclusively on men. As it traces its narrative arc, The wHOLE will do that as well—it’s one of the main reasons The wHOLE is a series, rather than a film. We will tell many more stories from behind bars as the series unfolds and through transmedia storytelling during the initial season.

We’ll tell stories of women who are imprisoned, of children who are imprisoned, of exonerees, of the families left behind, of the correctional officers, nurses, psychologists, and others asked to enforce this isolation. And each of these stories will be told through a feminist lens because ultimately, The wHOLE, is about the humanity of us all. Its insistence on humanity, on equality, and on the dignity of all lives is what makes it a feminist story.

This is why I am proud to be a woman telling a man’s story. And it seems only fair, given how often men have taken it upon themselves to tell women’s stories. I’m proud, too, to be collaborating with men who share my vision, who understand this project as an act of resistance and defiance. I’m proud of our feminist lens.

Become a part of The wHOLE by either watching the pilot and/or supporting the series, and by inviting others to become a part of The wHOLE as well.

Producer Jennifer Fischer co-founded Think Ten Media Group with Ramon Hamilton. Prior to producing The wHOLE, Jennifer produced the company’s multi-award winning feature film, SMUGGLED, and served as the Producer of Marketing and Distribution for the film, successfully self-distributing the film, which screened at universities, colleges, and community organizations throughout the United States and abroad. She holds a BA from Sarah Lawrence College and an MA in Middle Eastern Studies from Harvard University, where she fell in love with filmmaking and directed and produced her first short film, “Songs of Palestine.” She followed that with a narrative award-winning short film, “Rachel’s Fortune,” which she wrote, edited, scored. She served as a technical consultant on “In Conflict With Kismet,” a short film from Writer/Director Dani Dixon, which debuted on BET and was featured at the Reel Women International Film Festival.

Jennifer can be found on Twitter @IndieJenFischer, and she curates a Film Articles and Resources Pinboard that Indiewire selected as one of the Top 10 Pinboards for Independent Filmmakers to Follow. She also recently started a Women In Film Pinboard as well. Tweet your best Women In Film stuff at her so that she can pin it!

Seed & Spark: Damn the Consequences. Take the Plunge.

How you define risk – be that financial, ethical, physical or moral – is vital. It shapes who we are and, even more so, what we see in the media and onscreen. We all know that male studio heads define “risk” as films helmed by women (despite the overwhelming stats that women-led films do better financially). It is clear to me that now, more than ever, we need risk-takers in charge. We need risk-takers to make women better represented in film, on both sides of the camera.

This is a guest post by Stacey Davis.

I am a risk taker.

When I say risk, I’m talking about the impulsive, why-the-hell-not, damn-the-consequences kind.

Case in point, several years ago I convinced my husband that we should open an ice cream shop in our neighborhood. Why did I think this was a good idea for two full-time working adults with a toddler at home? Well, I couldn’t get the image out of my head of kids on bikes coming in with piggy bank change clinched in their palms, falling over themselves to buy penny candy.

“It’ll be great” was my best argument for why we should jump off this cliff. And it was great. We had a stream of neighborhood kids pour in with eager faces and wander out with sticky ones. But, despite our enthusiasm, it failed.

After 11 months, we closed the doors. But I’d do it again. I’ve never looked upon that experience as a mistake. Instead, I think, “Damn, if I knew then what I know now, I could have killed it.”

So, my question is this: How can we all learn to take more risks?

How can we encourage each other to take them? For starters, we must never let past failures influence future success. A few years after the ice cream shop shuttered, I decided it was time for me to move on from the law firm where I had practiced for the last 12 years. My passion was entertainment law and the only way to pursue that path in Birmingham, Ala. was to set up my own shop.

I never once second-guessed the idea of starting another small business. Consequences be damned, remember? So two months later, I opened my own entertainment law practice, the Law Firm of Stacey A. Davis. It hasn’t been easy, but a year later the doors are still open.

I didn’t let one failure chain me down or stop me from taking another risk. I couldn’t. The fear of sitting behind a desk working another 10 years at a job that was just a job and not a passion was far more insidious than the fear of failure.

As Drew Barrymore said, “If you don’t take risks, you’ll have a wasted soul.” And my soul craved the risk.

Still, I can hear the chorus shout: “It’s easy for you. You’ve got a safety net” or “Your family is so supportive.” Whether or not that’s the case, I encourage everyone to take the plunge themselves. Regardless of your circumstance, it does not feel safe.

During my legal career, I’ve represented a lot of first-time filmmakers who failed to achieve the level of success they wanted with their first film. Hell, some of them didn’t even finish their films. They took a risk and it didn’t pay off. But being afraid of failure only makes future success impossible. It is those filmmakers who shouted the mantra of consequences be damned and jumped off the cliff again (and again) that have etched out a career in this business.

One of my writing instructors once told me every no gets you closer to a yes. I’ve heard a lot of nos. And I looked at each one of them as a way to get one step closer to a yes (granted, that perspective is not always immediate and usually involves a margarita or two).

Call it eternal optimism. Call it the growth mindset. (If you haven’t read Carol Dweck’s Mindset, read it now.) But I believe that the risk mindset is the No. 1 quality a woman filmmaker needs in order to succeed in this industry. You’ve got to fight for it. You’ve got to take it.

So now I’ve moved on to my next adventure. Making my first film, The Sibling Code. I’ve been writing for many years and knew I needed to take the next step. It’s a big risk. Maybe my Seed & Spark crowdfunding campaign will fail. Maybe the film will be a flop. Maybe in a year I’ll say, “Damn, if I knew then what I know now, I could have killed it.” But I don’t live for maybes. I don’t get out of bed for maybes. My name is Stacey Davis and I take risks. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Stacey Davis is an entertainment attorney and the writer/producer of The Sibling Code, a comedic short about the love-hate relationship of siblings. Stacey lives in Birmingham with her husband, Nick, and 8- year-old-son, Charlie. Stacey can be reached at sdavis@staceydavislaw.com, www.staceydavislaw.com or @staceydavislaw.

For more information on The Sibling Code:

Twitter: @siblingcode

Facebook: /thesiblingcode

Website: www.thesiblingcode.com

Support: http://www.seedandspark.com/studio/sibling-code

Seed & Spark: Oh … You’re Not Making a Rom-Com?

Considering more than one in five women are raped in their lifetime in the USA, I feel it is a hard-hitting reality and it is about time this film is made. I should also point out, that the script focuses on the recovery of a rape survivor and is much less of a tragic tale, than a realistic and a hopeful one.

Filmmaker, Jessica M. Thompson, at the premiere of her short film, Across the Pond, at Tropfest NY 2013 — Filmmaker, Jessica M. Thompson, at the premiere of her short film, *Across the Pond*, at Tropfest NY 2013

This is a guest post by Jessica M. Thompson.

When I started writing my latest feature film, The Light of The Moon, I had a few comments from friends lamenting that I was not writing a Romantic-Comedy. Now, I should point out, I have not written or directed many Rom-Coms in my life – I am definitely more driven by the genres of Drama, Thriller, and even Sci-Fi – so these friends were not making a statement about my previous Rom-Coms being an utter hit and that I should not digress from my proven track record. These friends were making assumptions about the types of films that women write and direct, and also suggesting that these are the types of films that resonate with female audiences. Because, you know, Rom-Coms are the only types of films that women want to see, right?

Carlo Velayo and Jessica M. Thompson from Stedfast Productions at Tropfest NY 2013

Now I am very picky about my friendships: I only mingle with highly intelligent, interesting, creative and progressive women and men of the world, so I was pretty shocked to hear some of them make such blatantly pigeonholed comments. I had the overwhelming sense that the overarching stereotypes that Hollywood projects on to female writers, directors, actors, characters, and audiences were even starting to encroach on the Brooklynites of New York.

Director, Catherine Hardwicke, on the set of Red Riding Hood, 2011. (Photo courtesy of IMDB) — Director Catherine Hardwicke on the set of *Red Riding Hood*, 2011. (Photo courtesy of IMDb)

There has been a long pervading idea in Hollywood that it is only men, between the ages of 18-35, who go to the movies. This has been disproved time-and-time again, with one article in Variety pointing out that women made up 51 percentof all film audiences in 2011. Yet, only 30 percentof speaking roles in movies in 2014 were female characters (and this includes animated films that suggested we should just “let it go!”). And to make the situation direr, those speaking roles were largely supporting characters who were passive in nature and contributed very little to the overall plot within the film.

Director, Catherine Hardwicke, at the premiere of Red Riding Hood, 2011. (Photo courtesy of IMDB) — Director Catherine Hardwicke at the premiere of *Red Riding Hood*, 2011. (Photo courtesy of IMDb)

Writer/director Catherine Hardwicke struggled to secure funding for her indie hit Thirteen in 2003. “Of course there are double standards. No one can say it’s a level playing field,” she said. Stories with strong female leads are often disregarded for funding by the largely male-dominated production and distribution companies of Hollywood. Although Thirteen went on to win the Sundance Award for Best Director, be nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actress in a Supporting Role and earn over $4.5 million at the box office, Hardwicke still found it hard to get her future films, with ladies in the leading roles, off the ground.

Actor/Writer/Producer, Brit Marling, in I Origins, 2014. (Photo courtesy of IMDB) — Actor/writer/producer Brit Marling in *I Origins*, 2014. (Photo courtesy of IMDb)

Interesting to note, Hardwicke did go on to direct the first Twilight movie in 2008, which grossed over $392 million worldwide, only to have male directors take over her role for the last four films in the series. As Hardwicke points out: “Despite achievement at the highest levels, women still find themselves pounding on doors that are slow to open.”

Actor/Writer/Producer, Brit Marling, in The East, 2013. (Photo courtesy of IMDB) — Actor/writer/producer Brit Marling, in *The East,* 2013. (Photo courtesy of IMDBb)

The film I am making this year, The Light of The Moon, is about the first six weeks after a sexual assault and the impacts on the main character, Bonnie, and her relationships. When I have spoken to some savvy film festival audiences about the story, I’ve heard comments, like: “Wow, sounds like a real picker-upper” or “isn’t that a bit too depressing to watch?” Considering more than one in five women are raped in their lifetime in the USA, I feel it is a hard-hitting reality and it is about time this film is made. I should also point out, that the script focuses on the recovery of a rape survivor and is much less of a tragic tale, than a realistic and a hopeful one.

Jessica M. Thompson co-founded Stedfast Productions in 2010. This year, Stedfast will be making their first feature film, The Light of The Moon, which is now crowd funding through Seed&Spark. — Jessica M. Thompson co-founded Stedfast Productions in 2010. This year, Stedfast will be making their first feature film, *The Light of The Moon*, which is now crowd funding through Seed&Spark.

But these comments did make me start to wonder if male directors, like Derek Cianfrance, encountered the same problems when pitching an utterly sad, romantic-tragedy, like Blue Valentine? Or if our darlings, Matt & Ben, got some slack for making a film about a genius who was violently abused as a child and now has emotional problems in Good Will Hunting? Or any of Lars Von Trier’s movies for that matter!

The Light of The Moon will be Jessica M. Thompson's feature directorial debut. It is now crowd funding through Seed&Spark. — *The Light of The Moon* will be Jessica M. Thompson’s feature directorial debut. It is now crowd funding through Seed&Spark.

Do we have a problem with women who are not just passive side-characters? Do we have an issue with women making films where the female characters do not only act as sexy half-time entertainment or as the love interest of the male protagonist? Do we have a problem with seeing complex female characters, who make mistakes, who hurt, and change, and grow, and fight, and struggle to achieve what they want?

Check out Stedfast Productions and their Seed&Spark crowd funding campaign for The Light of The Moon — Check out Stedfast Productions and their Seed&Spark crowd funding campaign for *The Light of The Moon*

No. Actually, I don’t think we do. Because the movies that have been made in the past with dynamic female leads, like Thirteen, Boys Don’t Cry, Hunger Games, Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, Kill Bill, Amélie, Juno, Erin Brokovich, (etc., etc.), have all proven otherwise. They have all performed ridiculously well, both in the critics’ circles and at the box office. But I do think, despite all of these success stories showing that film audiences want to see more interesting female characters on screen, it is the male-dominated Hollywood executives who still have a problem with funding movies about women and by women.

Stedfast Productions is a NYC based collective of visual storytellers - www.stedfastproductions.com — Stedfast Productions is a NYC-based collective of visual storytellers – www.stedfastproductions.com

Fortunately, there is hope. As Brit Marling said at this year’s Sundance Film Festival: “I think it is something like less than 10 percent of directors and screenwriters are women? So, of course then, cinema and TV is usually from the male perspective…so I think the more women that go into writing and directing – I think that will be the beginning of the shift…women taking the reigns and saying: ‘I’m not finding the characters that I need, I’m just going to sit down and write them.’”

With females now making up the majority of the human population and theatregoers alike, surely, it is about time we give the masses what they want. It is about time that art reflects life in this matter. So ladies, pick up your pens and your cameras and keep on fighting the good fight!

Jessica M. Thompson is an Australian filmmaker who moved to Brooklyn, New York over four years ago and founded Stedfast Productions – a collective of visual storytellers. Jess has directed several short films, music video clips and commercials and recently edited Cheryl Furjanic’s award-winning documentary, Back on Board: Greg Louganis.

Jess looks forward to making her feature directorial debut with The Light of the Moon, which is currently crowd funding through Seed&Spark.

Seed & Spark: On Fear and On Not Giving a Fuck About It

As I write this, I’m approaching the mid-point of a crowdfunding campaign for my second film. It’s going slower than the first, and I’ve got the stomach pain and canker sores to prove it (thanks for talking about yours, Tina Fey. It makes me feel slightly less gross about mine). And I’m fearful. I have also had, at one time or another, the following thoughts on the making of this film:

You’re being selfish. Self indulgent. No one will like it. There’s a REASON you’re still scratching to get by. You’re just not good enough. Or pretty enough. Or talented enough. Did we mention that thing about your thighs being too fat? No one will back this project. And you’ll look like an idiot. With fat thighs. And you’ll never work again.

This is a guest post by Kimberly Dilts.

Elizabeth Gilbert doesn't give a fuck about your fear. — Elizabeth Gilbert doesn’t give a fuck about your fear.

Ok, enough, you get the idea. It sucks. Our fear fucking SUCKS. It masks itself as something helpful—something that will keep us safe and warm and wound-free. It wants us to not rock the boat. To be comfortable. To stay where we are. But not for a SECOND are we actually safe, comfortable or wound-free when we listen to our fear. And you know what? As Elizabeth Gilbert said in her extraordinary essay, our fear is boring.

So you know what? I don’t give a FUCK. I’m running toward my fear.

What brought me to this radical place?

You know who else doesn't give a fuck about your fear? Tina Fey, Jill Soloway and Ava DuVernay. — You know who else doesn’t give a fuck about your fear? Tina Fey, Jill Soloway, and Ava DuVernay.

1) Exhaustion. Because Hollywood Lady Statistics. Because I just can’t even.

2) Understanding that I’m not alone. There are women in every corner of this industry running toward their fear every day, and I found some of them. And like the badass tribe that they are, they showed me my own ferocity.

3) Knowing in my bones that I want to be part of the changing of the guard in Hollywood. Straight white men have written and directed many—most—of my favorite films. That’s the history of who has gotten to speak, and I’d like to be part of the writing of the future where we ALL get to.

4) Understanding that I DESERVE a place at the table, but that I have to fight for it. No one is going to hand it to me, as much as this straight-A student wants that validation so very badly.

And most importantly,

5) The concept of “Why not?” as my husband said, when I asked him for the hundredth time if he really really thought we should dive in to making another film. I came to realize that fear was quite literally the ONLY thing holding me back. And I am not a chickenshit. I am happy to be looked upon as crazy, foolish, and ridiculous, but not as fertilizer.

For better or worse, I’ve done most of my learning as a human being in uncomfortable circumstances—and I’d venture a guess that you have too. So, if we want change, both within ourselves and within our industry, we have to be willing to get uncomfortable—to expand so much that the fear can just float right through us, like those blonde dreadlocked twins in the second Matrix movie (sorry, that’s the image that came to mind–feel free to substitute… Judi Dench in the Pitch Black sequel? The ghost train through Winston in GB2? Beans through your intestinal tract? …I may not be helping).

The film that I’m funding is about artists, and I’m finding that it is NOT going to be for everyone. It pushes some buttons, both for artists themselves and, I suspect, for the cultural critics who look at young artists with both the disdain and envy (judgment?) of age. It’s a comedy, which is certainly a matter of taste, and it touches on, among other things, women who choose to remain childless, global warming, eating disorders, and the collapse of the creative class. My husband had someone tell him to his face that he won’t see it because he’s “living it, why would I want to see it?” Didn’t matter when he explained it was a comedy. Dude wasn’t into it.

This border collie will eat your fear for BREAKFAST.

But you know what? Fuck it. Uncomfortable circumstances: I’m running at you, too.

Last week, the Executive Producer of one of our projects had me and my husband over for lunch. A recent cancer survivor, this woman had just left behind an impressive career as a fashion executive to pursue a passion project (a film we’re working on together), and to take on an entirely new career. She told us she’d never really thought about her retirement portfolio because it was scary—money brought up fear for her. And when cancer and a stroke temporarily slowed her down, she took stock of her situation and realized she was no longer passionate about her work, and that her retirement fund could have done so much better if she had just learned a little bit about how it all works when she was younger… So now she’s training, in her 60s, for a new career advising young women on how to invest wisely. She’s not running toward what she fears, she is sprinting at it, grinning like a puppy, ready to pounce on it and chew-love it to PIECES. It’s an incredible sight to behold.

So right now, when I’m scared, I think of her. I think of my mother who raised three children while working two jobs. I think of all the other women fighting the good fight in this industry—and of the women around the world living in desperate situations, denied the most basic of human rights. I think of my marvelously supportive husband, and of the million good things that are easy and good and delicious in this life, and I just have no more room for–not a single f#ck to give about–my fear.

Kimberly Dilts is a Los Angeles-based writer/producer/performer currently crowdfunding her second feature film, Auld Lang Syne, on Seed&Spark. The film is being written, directed, shot, and produced by women. She has worked off-broadway, at a hedge fund, in Haiti, and in TV and film, sometimes at the same time. Special skills include dreaming, playing the fool, and passing the Bechdel Test.

Seed & Spark: Why Men Need More Female Storytellers

As I move closer to publicly putting three generations of our multicultural family’s racial situations into a film, I think back to the valuable lessons I’ve also gleaned from five female storytellers that have made me a better male and male storyteller.

This is a guest post by Jason Cuthbert.

I am a man who has zero problems admitting that we have been wrongfully taught to believe that males should do all the thinking and women can only do all the feeling. But we all do all the thinking; it’s just us guys that unfortunately ignore those tingly emotions. But if boys and men don’t have real life feminine angels to bless their development like I did, they will need to turn to female storytellers to unlearn the wrong ways to treat women in life and in fiction: those people that so graciously carried every single human being in their bodies for 3/4ths of a year.

I am taking great pride in directing a true story featuring the first two leading ladies of my life: my mother and sister in Colouring Book: The Mixed Race Documentary. As I move closer to publicly putting three generations of our multicultural family’s racial situations into a film, I think back to the valuable lessons I’ve also gleaned from five female storytellers that have made me a better male and male storyteller.

Ava DuVernay

Way before it was ever announced that Ava DuVernay would become my choice for Best Director when she rose her head high above the hills of Mount Hollywood with her Martin Luther King drama Selma – we followed each other on Twitter. I completely appreciate this digital window into her very personal filmmaking process. By adding Ava’s prolific 140 character-or-less points of view to my Twitter timeline, I shared her victory as the first African-American to win Best Director at the Sundance Film Festival for Middle of Nowhere. I watched as she erected her African American Film Releasing Movement (AFFRM) to assist storytellers from a similar experience, building audiences for Big Words and Vanishing Pearls before my very eyes.

There were also those deep DuVernay tweets of solidarity during the Trayvon Martin horror show and the #Ferguson demand for justice. Then my inspiration reached above the clouds when Ava DuVernay began sharing her research trips, production updates and promotional runs as the director and co-writer of Selma. Whether it is a love story in her hometown of Compton, or passionately portraying the biggest figure of the Civil Rights movement, DuVernay has taught me the importance of making cinema personal. If a piece of me isn’t in the work…it aint working.

Diablo Cody

I admittedly was more than fashionably late to the Diablo Cody party that started off with stripper tales told in her popular blog. But once I happily suffered from unapologetic laughing fits in front of complete strangers while watching Cody’s story Juno, I was instantly in awe of this Academy Award winner’s whimsical way with words. I loved how the bold “Diablo Dialect” vomited out of her character’s mouths with zero fear of being considered pretentious. This inventive keyboard killer wielded words that were born to be reincarnated as bumper stickers and t-shirts.

Juno defied stereotypes: she was not brainless, half naked or waiting to be rescued. She was a young mother-to-be that was actually striving to be responsible and take ownership of her actions. These coming-of-age elements normally get traded out for fart jokes and keg parties. But Cody with the devilish first name taught me the importance of coloring outside of the lines and to not be afraid of writing a script that feels like I had way too much fun concocting it.

Sarah Polley

While developing the structure for my first full-length film: Colouring Book: The Mixed Race Documentary, I rewatched Sarah Polley’s super brilliant documentary-within-a–documentary-with-a-taste-of-lime: Stories We Tell. It carries a similar approach to Colouring Book in that I will also be the Sarah Polley narrator in my doc, probably making my family just as uncomfortable with my personal questions like she did.

I love how Sarah Polley uses humor when things get serious while getting us misty-eyed moments later. Polley taught me that documentaries don’t have to stay reluctantly chained to the wall as dusty talking head book reports. You are allowed to incorporate hybrid meta-dramatic approaches and peek-a-boo “its just a movie” moments while you arrive at the truth.

Kathryn Bigelow

As the director of explosive hard-hitting thrillers like Point Break, The Hurt Locker, and Zero Dark Thirty, Kathryn Bigelow refuses to drop to her knees before the feet of gender stereotypes. I dare you to find a single romantic comedy on her report card as of today’s date. Kathryn Bigelow has educated me on the idea that if a protagonist is going to be really violent then there has to be more than just courage and a brain inside that soldier of misfortunate – there needs to be a beating heart.

Bigelow’s opinion on being a female director, or more accurately, a director who just happens to be a female can be summed up in one of Kathryn Bigelow’s many fine quotes: “If there’s specific resistance to women making movies, I just choose to ignore that as an obstacle for two reasons: I can’t change my gender, and I refuse to stop making movies.”

Francesca D’Amico

The female storyteller I have actually learned the most from is Francesca D’ Amico – the producer of Colouring Book: The Mixed Race Documentary. When I brainstorm out loud or quietly deliver thoughts in cell phone texts, she isn’t brutally honest–she is soothingly honest. She puts my imagination at ease with her clearly drawn reasons to bring a concept to life, or drop a bad idea off the face of the Earth–fast!

Francesca cares about everyone’s feelings and it is her self-less compassion for everyone who will ever exist that has helped to organically attract people to our documentary. I’ve learned from Francesca D’Amico that those silent emotional connections between human beings are little timeless stories of eternal universal truth. If the audience can’t relate to the characters on a primal level, no amount of glamour will remove how useless the story will be.

Jason Cuthbert is a screenwriter, writer and the biracial (African Trinidadian and Caucasian American) creator, director and co-producer of Colouring Book: The Mixed Race Documentary, a full-length film comparison of multiculturalism in the United States to Canada, paralleled by the exploration of Jason Cuthbert’s own mixed race experience.

For more information on Colouring Book: The Mixed Race Documentary:

Jason’s Twitter: @A2Jason

Francesca’s Twitter: @HipHopScholar82

Colouring Book’s Twitter: @ColouringBk

Website: ColouringBook.info

Support: http://www.seedandspark.com/studio/colouring-book-productions

Seed & Spark: #EarlyCinemaSoBlack

But they did not do it for fame or hardware, they saw a new industry that they could use to instill pride and confidence in their community and propel the race forward. So for this Black History Month, we can proudly say #EarlyCinemaSoBlack.

This is a guest post by Deborah Riley Draper.

Fortunately I have the honor and privilege of preserving and elevating the historical contributions of people of color everyday. But, since it is Black History Month, I would be remised if I didn’t take this opportunity to highlight some of the original baddass chicks of cinema. Contrary to the misconceptions and blatant neglect of historical fact, Black women have enjoyed success and failure in the movie-making business since the industry began practically. And not too unlike today, these trailblazers of the Silent Movie Era operated fully and completely outside of the Hollywood or the burgeoning Hollywood system.

Of course, most people are familiar with Zora Neale Hurston and her books because Halle Berry starred in the 2005 TV movie adaptation of Their Eyes Were Watching God produced by Oprah Winfrey. The Harlem Renaissance bad girl was not only a celebrated novelist and playwright but a noted anthropologist as well. She produced ethnographic films in 1928 capturing the lives, customs, and beliefs of Southern people. If you are ever in the Library of Congress, be sure to check Hurston’s filmography.

Seven years before Hurston’s films and exactly 100 years before #OscarsSoWhite was trending, the legendary Black newspaper The Chicago Defender mentioned the “three-reel drama” Shadowed by the Devil, penned and produced by Mrs. Miles Webb, in their section “Among the Movies.” Around the same time, photographer Jane Louise VanDerZee Toussaint Welcome, personal photographer of Booker T. Washington and sister of famed Harlem photographer James VanDerZee, and her husband Ernest Toussaint Welcome opened The Toussaint Motion Picture Exchange. Jennie directed Doing their Bit, a short detailing the efforts of Blacks in the military during WWI. Another film pioneer, Maria P. Williams, produced, distributed, and acted in her own film, The Flames of Wrath (1923) and the Norfolk Journal and Guide printed, “Kansas City is claiming the honor of having the first colored woman film producer in the United States.” And Williams’ best friend, Tressie Souders was lauded by the Black press as the first African American woman director for her film, A Woman’s Error (1922), which was distributed by the Afro-American Film Exhibitors’ Company based in Kansas City, Mo. These woman ignored stereotypes, Jim Crow laws, and the lack of women’s rights to get behind camera to capture and document important stories. They used a pen and a camera to create important pathways and springboards to fuel the march to equality.

It is important to mention, since we are talking about woman who used film to impact the social consciousness of a very racially oppressive society, the writer Drusilla Dunjee Houston. She wrote the screenplay, “Spirit of the South: The Maddened Mob,” one of earliest African-American responses to Thomas Dixon and D. W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation (1915). She was unable to get it financed and produced.

Black women have been involved in every aspect of film from the beginning. While Oscar Micheaux is regarded as the father of Black independent cinema, we must also applaud the women who stepped out prior to men and women of all races to create jobs, opportunities and provide authentic depictions of them on the screen. These woman found their own spark and seed money to create a lane, a voice and compelling narratives that would accurately depict African American life and inspire the next generation. They pioneered cinematic techniques and introduced ways to flourish outside of Hollywood. They were entrepreneurs with start-up film companies. Maybe one day, they will trend on twitter or receive posthumous recognition for their contributions. But they did not do it for fame or hardware, they saw a new industry that they could use to instill pride and confidence in their community and propel the race forward. So for this Black History Month, we can proudly say #EarlyCinemaSoBlack.

Though not cinematic pioneers, two historically significant women will be featured in the upcoming documentary Olympic Pride, American Prejudice. The film captures the heroic turn of 18 African American athletes who defied racism on both sides of the Atlantic to complete in the 1936 Olympics. And, Louise Stokes and Tydie Pickett, the first Black women ever selected to an American Olympic team, bravely and proudly stepped onto the U.S.S. Manhattan to represent the U.S. almost 30 years prior to the Civil Rights Bill. This film is currently funding on Seed&Spark. Please support the telling of this significant chapter in American history and a precursor in the modern Civil Rights movement. Click here to contribute or log on to www.1936olympicsmovie.com to learn more.

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Filmmaker Deborah Riley Draper has a proven track record for creating compelling brand stories as an advertising agency executive. Draperʼs first documentary, Versailles ʼ73: American Runway Revolution, brought to life the legendary 1973 fashion battle between five French and five American designers. Versailles ʼ73 has screened all over the world and received acclaim from critics and fans alike, including the New York Times, LA Times and Harperʼs Bazaar. The film was selected to the St. Louis International Film Festival, NY Winter Film Awards, John Hopkins Film Festival, Marthaʼs Vineyards African American Film Festival, Denver Film Society Winter DocNights, and Gateway Documentary Festival as well as selected to screen at fashion and design festivals in Canada, Saudi Arabia, Croatia, Estonia and Australia. Versailles ʼ73 is distributed through Cinetic/Filmbuff on VOD in North America, Europe and Australia. The documentary has also been optioned for development into a feature film.

Draper is currently completing production on Olympic Pride, American Prejudice, the story of the 18 African American athletes of the 1936 Summer Olympic Games. She is also completing two feature film scripts. Draper recently contributed to several museum projects, including The Groninger Museum in The Netherlands exhibition on Marga Weiman, Museum of the City of New Yorkʼs Stephen Burrows: When Fashion Danced and the Andre Leon Tallyʼs An American Master of Inventive Design at SCAD. Draper will be a contributing writer to the Fall 2015 NKA: Journal of Contemporary African Art Fashion Edition.

Draper has been making long format content and commercials for more than 15 years for clients such as Coca-Cola Classic, Sprite, The Georgia Lottery Corporation, Blue Cross-Blue Shield, ExxonMobil, Fedex, Bayer CropScience and HP. She is currently the Client Service Director at Iris Worldwide. Prior to iris, Draper spent eight years at BBDO and three years at the Publicis network agency Burrell Communications Group. Her advertising work has won two Regional Emmy Awards, Gold Effie, and numerous Addys.

The avid Florida State University Seminole is frequent lecturer for the AAAA Advertising Institute and a 2014 Distinquished Visiting Professor at Johnson & Wales University, Florida Campus.

Seed & Spark: The Bravery of Being a “Slut” on Camera

So when I started production on ‘Slut: A Documentary Film,’ I knew the intensity of what I was asking of the women I interviewed. Not only were they sharing their personal experiences with sexual shaming, they were doing it on camera. They were using their full, legal names. They were putting their faces and their voices out there into the world, with the hope that what they had to say would change someone’s life.

Seed and Spark Screen Shot — Contribute to the *Slut: A Documentary Film* crowd-funding campaign to help The UnSlut Project complete post-production.

This is a guest post by Emily Lindin.

When I first started The UnSlut Project, I imagined it would function like the It Gets Better Project – but rather than focusing on LGBT youth, it would be geared toward girls who were being “slut”-shamed. The parallel was obvious: like people who are bullied for being LGBT, girls who are sexually bullied are often convinced that it’s not something about them that is “wrong”; rather, it is their very being, who they are, that is “dirty” and “bad.” This can make them feel worthless as a person and, in the most tragic cases, can lead to self-harm and even suicide.

In case you’re not familiar with the It Gets Better Project, the premise is that when LGBT youth don’t have supportive adults in their lives (which is, unfortunately, often the case), they can find comfort in videos made by adults who have survived similar bullying. These videos provide solidarity, hope, and the message that it will get better.

Slut: A Documentary Film is currently crowd-funding for post-production. — *Slut: A Documentary Film* is currently crowd-funding for post-production.

My idea was that this kind of project would make sense for young girls who were being sexually bullied, since they, too, often lack support from the adults in their lives. Many parents’ first instinct is to blame their daughter for being labeled a “slut” by her classmates, rather than to help her overcome that reputation in a kind, open-minded way. I had supportive parents growing up, but when I was bullied as the school “slut” back in the late 1990s, I would have greatly benefited from the reassuring messages of women who had survived something similar.

N'jaila action — N’Jaila Rhee shares her experience being shunned by her parents and church community after being sexually assaulted, as part of *Slut: A Documentary Film.*

So women started submitting their stories. But here’s the thing: they wrote to me instead of recording video messages, and in most cases they asked me to keep their submissions anonymous. Some of these women were in their 40s or 50s; decades before, someone had decided they were a “slut.” But there was still so much shame surrounding that time in their life that they could not risk being identified. They wanted to reach girls who were going through sexual bullying, they wanted to speak out about their stories, but the stigma surrounding the “slut” label was still so strong that they could only do so anonymously.

Allyson Pereira shares her experience being sexually bullied after sending a photo of her breasts to her high school ex-boyfriend, as part of "Slut: A Documentary Film." — Allyson Pereira shares her experience being sexually bullied after sending a photo of her breasts to her high school ex-boyfriend, as part of *Slut: A Documentary Film*.

I can’t blame these women for wanting to protect their identities. The stigma they fear is not imagined; in many cases, they could be putting their jobs or personal relationships at risk. In fact, when I first launched The UnSlut Project by blogging my own diary entries from when I was labeled a “slut” in middle school, I changed the names of everyone involved. To this day, I use a pen name to protect the people who bullied me over 15 years ago.

So when I started production on Slut: A Documentary Film, I knew the intensity of what I was asking of the women I interviewed. Not only were they sharing their personal experiences with sexual shaming, they were doing it on camera. They were using their full, legal names. They were putting their faces and their voices out there into the world, with the hope that what they had to say would change someone’s life.

They were doing something braver than I have ever done. And they were trusting me to represent their stories clearly and honestly, to make a film that will not only reach adults who need to know just how pervasive and widespread the issue of “slut”-shaming is, but whose message will find girls who need to know that “it gets better.”

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Emily Lindin is the founder of The UnSlut Project and the creator of Slut: A Documentary Film. She was labled a “slut” at age 11. Now a Harvard graduate pursuing her PhD in California, Emily started The UnSlut Project by blogging her middle school diaries. The project has grown into an online community where people who have experienced sexual shaming can share their stories, and where girls who are currently suffering can find support.

Seed & Spark: ‘The Song the Zombie Sang’

This was perplexing to me. Were people actually more interested in the story of a dead man over a live woman?

This is a guest post by Andrew Sayre.

The Song the Zombie Sang is going to be my second feature length film. It is also my second feature length film with a female lead character, which honestly is not something I’ve done intentionally. When I started writing my my first film, Whatever Makes You Happy, the idea was to make something that was more balanced, equal between two main characters, a man and a woman as they embarked on a tragic affair. But slowly, starting from the first time I scribbled notes on a piece of paper, through filming, and then editing it, the film started to lean far more toward her point of view than his. Watching it now, it is set up to be equal between the two of them, but it is still clearly more her story. I couldn’t even tell you when I noticed that I was doing it, or why, with any certainty. But there it is, and it felt right to me, so I didn’t think much of it.

Now, with The Song the Zombie Sang, I knew from the very start it was going to be a story centered around a female lead named Rhoda, a gifted musical prodigy. That was always the intent. The original story, as written by Harlan Ellison and Robert Silverberg, was more an equal perspective between her and the zombie of the story, Nils Bekh, an iconic dead musician who is reanimated nightly to perform. But what I always found most interesting about this story and wanted to expand on was Rhoda and what her life and her struggles were. That’s the aspect that I wanted to look into. Bekh is still prominent, still the person the ideas of the story are very deeply embedded in, but there isn’t much growth you can expect a character to have who is, well, dead. So he is more of an enigma, still a well-rounded character (I hope), but more of a thematic device than normal.

Anyone who has eyes, ears, and is able to notice even the most basic patterns in the world can tell you that films with a female lead are not common–not unheard of; they are out there and some of them rank among my favorites films ever. But it certainly isn’t what you could call standard. You can cut those numbers down even more if you negate the lame romantic comedies or other movies where it’s all about “finding your man” instead of some non-love centric goal, as I feel mine is. You can cut those down even further when you look at sci-fi stories with female leads.

Still, even knowing all that, I didn’t particularly worry about that with The Song the Zombie Sang or think it was any kind of hurdle I would have to get over. For me, good writing and good stories are what matters, and the gender of your lead shouldn’t be a factor. I’ve never cared when I watch something whether it’s a man’s voice or a woman’s voice, as long as it was a good voice. And on top of that, this indie film: it really shouldn’t be an issue here.

After I finished the script, I did as I always do, and started showing it around to people to get their take on what I had done. Standard operating procedure. A lot of people never got back to me, as usual, others did, and there were some good points and bad ones. One of the things I was noticing with a few people was that a lot of them were not connecting with Rhoda well, and thought her struggle was not interesting to them. Okay, that can happen, in of itself it doesn’t mean much. Sometimes when you create a somewhat abrasive lead character like Rhoda is, some people will balk and not empathize with them and gender isn’t much of a factor in that.

But instead of suggesting ways to work on her character to make her more likeable or what have you, people wanted to know more about Bekh, the dead guy. They wanted to learn more about his story, what made him tick, what his motivations were. That was who they thought the story should have been about. One person actually thought the better story would be all about him deciding to become the zombie in flashbacks, with no story about Rhoda at all apart from when she interacts with him in the present day.

This was perplexing to me. Were people actually more interested in the story of a dead man over a live woman?

I don’t want to make too much of this, for a few reasons. One, while yes, these kinds of comments were coming only from some of the men I had given the script to read, I know these guys, they’re not misogynistic jackasses. They’re good people. Just as thoughtful and intelligent as a person could be. If there was any kind of prejudice towards male orientated stories on their part, it certainly wasn’t something I think they were doing intentionally.

Secondly, and this probably a bigger reason I didn’t make a stink about it or call out any one of them, it could just very well be my script sucks. Maybe none of the characters are particularly well crafted, I missed my themes completely, the structure is totally unsound, and that the only thing I did well in the whole ninety pages of it was I used proper format and type font. I mean, I don’t think any of that is true, but of course I wouldn’t. The script could just be a total misfire, and they were just trying to latch on to ways they could think of to salvage it.

But why did their attempts to give me ideas on how to fix it all center around diminishing my female lead in favor of a dead man? Why is it that this was the way some people saw to fix what they saw was broken, instead of working on the female lead to make her more relatable, or likeable, etc? That is what I couldn’t understand. I’ve gotten countless critiques of things I’ve written, some crazier than these, but at least I could always see why a person was saying what they said, could see their point of view. This time around it has me a little stumped. I don’t want to say its a bias towards stories with a male perspective, but I’m not sure what else I can point to.

In the end, obviously, I’m not doing any of that to my script. It just wouldn’t be right, and it wouldn’t be a story I want to tell. Even if it could hamper my chances of getting this made, I’d rather fail at what I want to make than succeed with something I don’t.

This whole thing has opened my eyes a bit more towards the problem of the lack of stories with women as the lead character. And also made me wonder if its not just a problem with the filmmakers, but with the audience as well. Most of the people I get feedback from are film folks, true, but they are way down at the bottom of totem pole in this business just like I am, and are still more audience than creator. So perhaps the problem isn’t so much the makers of content being backwards as much as they are reflecting a still sadly true fact about the people they are trying to cater to.

Andrew Sayre is a filmmaker from New Hampshire, currently living in Brooklyn. He graduated from Keene State College in Keene, New Hampshire with a degree in Film Production and a minor in Philosophy. He wrote and directed his first feature length film, Whatever Makes You Happy, in 2010, and is currently working on his second feature, The Song the Zombie Sang, based on the short story by Harlan Ellison and Robert Silverberg.

Seed & Spark: Taking the Lead

Why, then, are most mainstream movies and TV shows out there representing a world that does not seem to match the real world in which we live? And most importantly, why do we accept that as normal? Why do we buy it? Specially knowing that what we see in movies and on TV, whether we want it or not, shapes our minds and the way we behave and perceive reality. It shapes society as a whole.

This comedy-drama gives us an insight into the life of a father who reveals himself as trans later in life

This is a guest post by Rosa Rodriguez.

I am sure you have heard the terms “lead” and “character” actor/actress. The lead actor/actress is the one who plays the role of the protagonist of a film or show. The character actor/actress plays the sidekick, the friend, the co-worker, the villain, and the minor roles.

Lead actors are usually “attractive” by general, narrow standards: thin, slim, muscular; clear skin and flawless hair and makeup; generally tall and able bodied. They are normally white or, if they have “the right look,” sometimes of other ethnicities. They are young, or youthful. They are normally cisgender and straight. They are the big names that most of us remember.

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A funny parody to Lorde’s “Royals” that definitely strikes a chord.

The character actors are more “unconventional-looking”: short, very tall, bald or balding, stocky, heavy set. They have the crooked noses or teeth, the big ears. They are the people of ethnicities other than white and oftentimes perform with an accent or a speech impediment. They are the middle aged and older guys and gals. They are the gay, transgender, gender fluid, etc. They are usually better known as “Whatshername” or “That guy from that thing” (check out a post on this blog called “Whatshername as a Great Actress: A Celebration of Character Actresses” for a beautiful explanation of what a character actress is and some interesting comparisons to the male counterpart).

These standards are widely spread on mainstream TV and movies, and generally accepted both by audiences and by actors and actresses, who want to be able to work and make a living. We are used to seeing the “attractive” people as the center of the stories. The belief is that the lead actors/actresses have the physical beauty and magnetism “needed” to play love interests and heroes, with whom the general population is meant to identify. The character actors fill the world around these main characters. Some of these supporting roles are quite strong and interesting, but they exist in relation to the leads. They are secondary characters.

The mini series Olive Kitteridge is a beautiful example of a production where we get to follow the story of an older woman who is generally unlikeable, but who wins our heart anyway — The miniseries *Olive Kitteridge* is a beautiful example of a production where we get to follow the story of an older woman who is generally unlikeable, but who wins our heart anyway

A lot of character actors and actresses have managed to have long, successful careers playing supporting roles, and sometimes an offbeat lead here and there. It can be quite fulfilling to play a character with real, human flaws (other than the muted ones usually allowed to the leads, such as clumsiness, shyness, or naïveté). Even when said characters are underwritten, or do not appear in the film or show long enough, it can be very satisfying for the performer and the audience when these brief appearances show interesting, real human beings.

The problem I see with the accepted standards is that in real life every single person is the lead character of his or her particular story. We all have lives, passions, dreams, pursue careers and occupations, fall in love, have our hearts broken. All of us, the thin, the medium sized, the large, the blond, the brunette, the red-head, the bald, the balding, the young, the old, the loud, the quiet, the Hispanic, the Asian, the Middle Eastern, and so on, have goals and aspirations, battles, successes, loses. We all teach and learn lessons in life.

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A message to Hollywood from a few well-known character actors. Funny and true.

I find myself wanting more than what I am seeing. I want to see more movies and TV shows display a society where people of all looks, sounds, backgrounds, get to lead their own stories. I want to see a story about a Latina with an accent who is a college professor or a scientist. I want to see a story about a short guy with a receding hairline finding the love of his life. I want to see a love story between two senior citizens that is not meant to be a joke. I want to see main characters with some acne, or an apple shaped body, or frizzy hair. I want the full-fledged characters who look like everyday people to be the leads of stories, just like they are in real life. I believe if the audiences demanded more of that, it would be made.

Six Feet Under was so ahead of its time in many ways, including having one of its main characters, David Fisher, be a complex, realistic gay man with a compelling storyline — *Six Feet Under* was so ahead of its time in many ways, including having one of its main characters, David Fisher, be a complex, realistic gay man with a compelling storyline

I am a founding member of a production company called Room 1209 Productions, together with Ravin Patterson, John Wiggins, and Patrick Avella. We define as our mission to generate opportunity for ourselves and our fellow actors, writers, directors, and other artists, through the creation of challenging, imaginative, quality content that represents the diversity found in real life.

Our first project is called Space Available, a character-driven web-series about a film student shooting a documentary in his seedy stepfather’s rehearsal studio, in an effort to expose the underground world he suspects exists behind the artistic façade. This is a project about people, about duality and gray areas.

So far we have been able to finish and release a prologue and two episodes, and are in the midst of a crowdfunding campaign, through Seed & Spark, to fund four more episodes that will complete season one. We have a myriad of characters of all colors, sizes, shapes, and backgrounds in the works, and are proudly committed to creating a space for character actors to take the lead in interesting stories. Should we have the opportunity to finish the first season of this project and move on to others, there will be a rich and diverse lineup of writers, directors, and other artists, that will get to work and tell their stories (to learn more about Space Available, and to view the prologue and first two episodes, visit our website at www.SpaceAvailableSeries.com, and our Seed & Spark campaign page at: http://www.seedandspark.com/studio/space-available-web-series)

Rosa Rodriguez is an actress, singer, writer and producer living in LIC, New York. She was born and raised in the Dominican Republic and is proud of her roots and her accent. She has numerous stage performances, short films, commercials, and industrials to her credit. She also holds a degree in Civil Engineering, and earned her Master’s in Construction Management from NYU. For more about Rosa visit her website: RosaRodriguezNYC.com.

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