Part Three: Dehanza Rogers’s Beautiful “Sweet, Sweet Country”

Last week, I posted Daye’s thoughts on the process of creating and the role of creator in sharing stories. If you haven’t already, you should definitely read parts one and two! Make sure to head over to the Kickstarter page to view the trailer to Sweet, Sweet Country as well.

Sweet, Sweet Country has a week left on their Kickstarter campaign and it’s not broken the halfway point, yet. So, please support the work of beautiful Brown people telling beautiful Brown stories in anyway you can. Share the link to the Kickstarter page, share the links to these posts, share this story!

And now, the final part of our conversation.

Sweet, Sweet Country Teaser #2 from dehanza rogers on Vimeo.

The entire cast came together to bring this story to life. One of the film’s stars is Gbenga Akinnagbe from The Wire. On how she got him to play the role of Ernesto, Daye said, “He read the script and he liked it. He thought it was a solid story and he wanted to be a part of that story and that, for me, is amazing. I’m happy that I found amazing actors that believed in the story and wanted to be a part of it.”

So where’s this film going?

“This film is a small film. When people saw Gbenga Akinnagbe was attached they were all, “Whoa? How did you get the guy from The Wire?” It’s a pride thing for me to say, “He liked the story.” The first step for me, personally, is to get people attached who believe in the story.”

For Daye, it’s not enough to tell stories, which is one reason I love her. She understands the importance of networks and relationships with other creators, one of the many, many things I’ve learned from watching her work over the past year and a half.

I’m not gonna make big Hollywood films, but I’m going to make good films. I know I don’t fit what they want. The best I can do is continue to make films and support people who are making them. I’ve created a network for myself from the people at UCLA so when it’s time for me to make another film I know I can trust these people will be involved and that money isn’t the biggest factor to them. Now if there’s money involved and I have money, I’m instantly giving my crew money. But part of my goal is to find people in Los Angeles who want to work on stories. People need to support themselves and if you they are an artist you can’t expect them to always work for free. Especially in the community of Black filmmakers, it’s important that we support each other even if there’s no money involved. I’ve crewed for people at outside UCLA without getting paid and I hope when I need help they will be willing to help.

And why film school?

My goal in going to film school is to learn how to make films so I can go and help others learn to tell their own stories. I’m the daughter of immigrants from a small southern town, so I’m close enough to the story that I feel I can give it justice, but there are women who are refugees that can tell the story better than me. I want to give them tools to tell that story. I want to get these skills and go back to the community where I came from or go to another community and say, “Hey, this is how you make a movie, let’s sit down and make something together.”

I hope you’re as excited to see this project as I am! I hope Daye has inspired you to go out and create! Tell your story! And then come back to Afrolicious to tell us all about the stories you’re telling :)


Part Two: Dehanza Rogers’s Beautiful “Sweet, Sweet Country”

I hope you enjoyed the first part of our dialogue with Daye. But wait! There’s more. I’ve had the privilege of watching Daye on set in full on director mode. I wanted her to speak more to the process of creating as a filmmaker. Below are her very deep responses. Sweet, Sweet Country’s fundraising on Kickstarter, so please support the work if you can.

Daye Rogers on the Process of Creating

On writing the script: “It’s sort of beginning to end. So the process for me is to put the images together that are running around in my head and try to figure out the story I’m trying to tell visually, then write that story as a silent film, basically. When I first wrote it was about 25-30 pages and it was just visuals: there was no dialogue. Because it’s a visual medium, right? So I was trying to do that as much as possible. And then I gave myself about two months to actually write it and then feel comfortable about putting it down and them coming back to it. There’s a process you go through when you create something you’re so close to. You don’t want to let anything go, so if something doesn’t work you’re still gonna hold on to it with your dear life because you think it’s your baby: you made it.

“I was supposed to shoot in March and the fact that my shoot got pushed to August really gave me a lot of time to literally live with the story. On one side of the bed, I’m sleeping, and on the other side is my computer. My script was in my bed with me every night for almost a year. I lived with it.”

Pre-production: “The week before we started scripting, I knew my script and made a couple of changes based on the location that we locked. Over that year, me and my DP had watched movies together so by the time I got on set my DP and I were on the same page. So I felt like my process started pre-filming. You put so much prep into it when so you get on set you’re not wasting time trying to explain yourself to the key people who need to do their job. There may have been one or two moments where I felt like I wanted this instead of that and we kinda debated it. As DPs we know how far we can go. It’s the director’s movies and you kinda give in sometimes, but he’s willing to fight me when he feels like there needs to be a fight about which way to go.

“This is the thing that you learn quick: if you’re a good filmmaker, no matter who says it, if it’s a good idea and if it’s a better idea than the one you have, you take it. It’s about serving the story, not serving your ego.

On set: “There were a couple moments where things that I wrote made sense on the page, but when we got on set or during pre-production at the location, it wasn’t necessarily the best way. And we sat down and debated it for about 25 minutes. If you’re the filmmaker, you will put your hands up and say you know what, you’re right. When you’re on set, though, it’s an organic process. You have a shot list, but you get on set and realize, “Oh snap! This shot is so much better than the one we’d planned! Or we don’t need this shot, but we need that shot!” And you let things happen organically.”

There were moments when I was behind the monitor and I was like, “What… just…happened?” It was way more beautiful than what I had in mind. And the actors brought so much more to the story than just reading the script. They felt it and they understood the story. I’m so proud about everyone who was involved because everyone was in their perfect role. And for me that means we made a film that all of us are very proud of.”

Looking back: “While I’m watching the takes, I take notes on my phone and at the end of each day, I write a couple of notes to myself. One of the notes I kept re-writing was, “Know what you want and be able to articulate.” What’s in abundance and always free? Communication. I was able to communicate my needs and wants with my characters and actors. When it came to my crew, there was a shorthand I assumed would work for all us, but didn’t work with everyone on the crew. It’s hard because you’re the director: you have at least ten people asking you questions, sometimes at the exact same time.

“As soon as the take is over, the first thing you’re supposed to do is beeline it to your actors and give them notes and let them know how they did. But if you have four actors in a room, it’s like who do you go to first? There’s this parental game you have to play, whether you’re mad at one of them because they’re not giving you what you want. You completely ignore that child and go to the child you want to coddle and say “You’re so good! You’re so great!” And the other one’s “Well I’m good, too, dammit!” You have to really understand the people you’re working with. By the time we got to the end of the shoot, the communication between everyone in the shoot was spot on. It takes about three days to get into a rhythm.”

“Another note I would write a lot is, “Don’t compromise.” I remember when I first started directing, I would just not want to deal with the hassle of struggling through a beat. And then I realized that it was my job to make sure the beat happens, that everyone is giving me what I need, including my DP, the sound guy: everyone. So the “don’t compromise” for me is do not compromise getting what you need for your story. If you’re not serving your story, then you’re not doing what you’re supposed to do as a filmmaker. My DP would make decisions based on my story and not based off his reel. That’s a good DP. There may be an opportunity where it may be a beautiful shot, but it’s not serving my story, he’s not gonna take the beautiful shot, he’s gonna take the shot that serves my story. You serve the story before you serve your self.

As a filmmaker and as a creator, how do you get to the place where you know what you want?

“It’s a process. I used to be so enamored with creators and their work. And then when I started creating as opposed to talking about creating, it became a lot of work to get to that level. I’m kind of fixated on that moment you have were all this work is culminating to this one moment and it all make sense. It really is about doing lots of little things to get to that place. If I’m not shooting stuff in between [ my school assignments ] how am I a filmmaker? How am I ever gonna get better if I’m not shooting a whole bunch of little stuff and making those mistakes in order to make way for the million of mistakes I’m gonna make a year from now. All that is a process that makes me feel I can take an idea and turn it into a film I’m proud of. And it’s the same with painting, and sculpture and writing and everything. There’s a moment you realize you talk about creating more than you actually do and that’s when you gotta stop talking and start listening and start making stuff.

Sweet, Sweet Country’s fundraising on Kickstarter. Support the work our Brown creators are making in any way you can :)


Dehanza Rogers’s Beautiful “Sweet, Sweet Country”

Last year, Dehanza Rogers hit me up to work on a short film for her program at the UCLA Film school. This summer, she’s just finished shooting another short called Sweet, Sweet Country: A Refugee’s Tale. The film is a refugee story that follows a slice of 20 year-old Ndizeye’s life as she navigates the space in between America and home.

Dehanza (I call her Daye) has 11 days left on her Kickstarter campaign for Sweet, Sweet Country. To support this film, we’re running a series on the story based on an interview I had with Daye last week. I hope you all support the work of Brown filmmakers telling stories at the margins and for the margins.

Interview Part One: Dehanza Rogers on Filming the Movie

I asked Daye about being in Georgia and receiving the stories of the people that informed parts of the movies. She replied:

You walk into someone’s home – they let you into their home. That’s a huge thing for someone to say, “Yes come into my home and let me tell you my story”. It’s a humbling thing and you instantly feel like they’re trusting you with something that’s personal to them and lets you know who they are.

I met refugees from Somalia, Congo, Tanzania, South Africa by way of Zimbabwe, Iraq and a list of people. At one point I’d already written the script and I was happy with it, but I’d ask, “Am I doing this justice right now? Am I really giving the people the justice they deserve with this particular story?” It’s a short film, and you have to take a slice of life because you can’t tell the entire story in a short film. I went back to rewrite and I was panicking a little bit and I was calling my professor and my family and people I trust with these kinds of stories. And, as a filmmaker, you can’t take everyone’s note and try to apply them. But I came to the realization that the film is a slice of life. It’s for a moment.

As she continued, Daye conencted the story of refugees in diaspora to what it means to be an American or in America today. She said:

I felt like this story deals with how we’re not post-racial America but everybody wants to throw that kinda shit out. But we definitely have issues with the other, still. We expect people to come to this country and leave behind who they are, their food, their culture, the way they talk, their language: everything about them is supposed to just fall to the wayside because now this is what is to be American. Everyone thinks that once immigrants get to this country their life is so much better than it was, but no. Not necessarily! Because some people were teachers and doctors and nurses and now they’re shadows of themselves. Yes they’re safer and they’re no longer in a refugee camp in a war-torn nation but that’s a fraction of what the rest of their lives is supposed to be about. So I felt like this is a story that touches on what it means to be American in this new paradox. What it means to be a refugee in a little, small Southern town that has no economics, different from any other place.

Tomorrow, I’ll post the rest of the interview, including the part where Daye takes me straight to church when she says, “There’s a moment you realize you talk about creating more than you actually do and that’s when you gotta stop talking and start listening and start making stuff.”

What? You know she’s talking to me with that right there.

Please support the work of Brown filmmakers telling stories of the margins, with the margins, at the margins and for the margins by donating to Daye’s Kickstarter campaign.


Zoe Saldana as Nina Simone is a Reminder to Keep Telling Your Story

After days of rumors, it’s been confirmed: Zoe Saldana has been cast to play Nina Simone in an upcoming film based on her autobiography. I’ve largely ducked the conversation, briefly offering my own two cents as to who I felt should play the part (Viola Davis, or another black actress who’s dream is to play Nina Simone). But now?  Now I’m feeling a bit human.

As a black girl in college, I would spend my days and nights coping to the 5-year culture shock by listening to Nina Simone, De La Soul, The Roots, Miles Davis, Lamb and many others. There were nights where I cried over code that wouldn’t compile and all I had was a Nina Simone mix to get me through it. Nina Simone’s lyrics especially spoke to where I was at the time trying to navigate an institution I couldn’t understand.  It wouldn’t be until I left that I’d grasp what it meant to be in that space.

So when I signed on to twitter this morning and read the linked article to the confirmation, I cried. Not just because of my personal experience and not because I am worried that Zoe S. might do a terrible job.

Zoe S might actually have an amazing performance as Nina Simone. I hope she blows us all away. She has consistently identified as a Black woman and no one has the right to strip her of that identity. Reaction to her part was based on skin color, but this isn’t about who is Black enough to play Nina Simone.

No, this is about who is telling Nina Simone’s story. Did you catch that? Before a cast was created, a screenplay was written by Cynthia Mort who wrote for shows like Roseanne and Will & Grace.

Dark skinned girls don’t stand a chance when someone who cannot identify with what it means to be Black, woman and from the South (all at the same time) is writing the story.

That’s mostly why I cried. Because again someone is going to tell this story to an international audience but it’s not someone with that experience. Someone else is representing Black girls and we’re forced to trust she does it well.

I could be more upset; I could be properly enraged, but for the fact that I know there are people working to tell their own stories and to empower others to tell their own stories.

Spectra, for example, is now in southern Africa teaching social media and storytelling to women and LGBTQI groups. Kindred Magazine is launching this fall. Sweet, Sweet Country just finished an amazing week of filming and is running a Kickstarter campaign to complete the project.

Another reason I cried is because in that moment I realized we have so much work to do to get our stories spread. We need to build a media infrastructure as formidable as Hollywood’s that can distribute these stories and support those at the margins who are telling and creating them.  We need to create platforms that we own, community-owned media centers that are not at the mercy of funding cycles or internet service providers.

But most of all we need to keep telling our stories. That’s why Afrolicious started in the first place and that’s why we keep going. “Until the lion learns to speak, the tales of hunting will be weak,” goes the old proverb. But we’ve been speaking. Maybe we should trying roaring?

Always be creating, y’all.
-a!


THIRDSPACE: A Beautiful Space To Exist

Sometimes you need another place to exist outside of the hustle of work, family, friends and even your religious meetings. Sometimes you need to see people who’ve never met each other find common ground in creating. Sometimes you need to lean back and close your eyes and let melody find you. Sometimes you need to feel love from complete strangers. Sometimes you need to breathe.

For all those sometimes and more, G.R.E.E.D.Y. City Los Angeles created THIRDSPACE: another space to exist. This Saturday, August 11 from 8pm, we will be featuring the amazing William Hawkins as he plays songs from his album Desperate. You are all welcome!