Salem Film Fest presents FOR AHKEEM

The Salem Film Fest selection committee is already hard at work programming for 2018. As usual, we are looking for films that tell compelling and thought-provoking stories--films that introduce fresh perspectives and ways of looking at and understanding the world. But March is pretty far off still. The good news is, we will be screening a film at the Cabot on November 26th to help satisfy your craving for quality documentary filmmaking. Many of you may remember the excellent film GOOD FORTUNE from SFF2010, directed by Landon Van Soest and produced by Beverly native, Jeremy Levine. This year we have the privilege of screening Levine’s new film, FOR AHKEEM, which he co-directed with Landon Van Soest.

The film tells the story of Daje Shelton, a Black St. Louis teen, as she enters an alternative school to avoid being expelled from public school. Truly an expertly crafted coming of age story, FOR AHKEEM humanizes the complicated intricacies of structural inequality and racism in public schools and in the justice system.

Levine and Van Soest sought to craft a narrative as dramatic and compelling as a fiction film, and rather than take a passive, fly-on-the-wall approach, the filmmakers collaborated extensively with Shelton in crafting the story. The result is an immersive journey into the life of one teenager, who like any teenager, struggles with algebra, hangs out with her friends, has a boyfriend, and occasionally argues with her mother. Beyond those typical teenage experiences is the spectre of death that looms as an ever-present reality. I had the opportunity to chat with Levine about his experience making FOR AHKEEM.

KCS: My biggest question for you is, having seen GOOD FORTUNE, and having watched FOR AKHEEM, your interest in social justice filmmaking is apparent. How did you develop an interest in filmmaking in general and how did your interest in tackling what are some really complicated social issues come to be married with that filmmaking interest?

JL: That’s a good question. I definitely knew at a pretty young age that I wanted to make films. When you’re a teenager and you see a film that kind of breaks out of the mold of what you expect, it ends up kind of being a life-changing event. I had many growing up and immediately felt “this is what I want to do.” I think around high school I also started paying attention to the world for whatever reason and realized how screwed up it was. It was a revelation. I’m not necessarily the hugest Michael Moore fan, but the first time I saw BOWLING FOR COLUMBINE, I thought, “Oh, you can actually do filmmaking and make it about something important.” Yeah, that was a big moment for me--that realization. By the time I was applying to colleges I was pretty committed to that approach to filmmaking. [In looking for subjects], we kind of always start with an issue that interests or infuriates us, or feel it needs more attention than its getting. But then really approach it as much as possible as a character story that plays out like a narrative film, and so we definitely are feeling with this piece we’ve taken that the furthest, and it’s the piece I’m most happy with.

KCS: I was really blown away by the film. You captured some really incredible moments. The one that really stuck out to me is when Daje learns Ahkeem is a boy, and at first she is very excited to be having a son, and you guys captured on film that moment of realization that she’s going to have a child who’s going to have a high risk of dying at a young age.

JL: It’s shocking as an outsider where they want a boy or a girl, and I’m talking mostly about white friends and family. You can be happy or you can be like, “I really wanted a boy,” or “I really wanted a girl,” but the stakes and the implications are just so much more extreme for Daje.

KCS: You mentioned in your director’s statement that there were some consultants that you brought in to help you kind of question assumptions that you had made. You were conscious of being two white male filmmakers making a documentary about a young Black woman. Were there any moments where you did have an assumption challenged and it became a transformative moment for you?

JL: There were so many. We had different editing consultants come in and explode the structure in a way that seemed totally insane to me but ultimately made so much sense, having to remove yourself from exactly what you shot--like, how do we best tell this story? In the director’s statement we wrote about how our producer Iyabo [Boyd]actually set up some incredibly targeted screenings. We had a group of Black activists in St. Louis, some academics in St. Louis. We had one screening that was only Black women, or almost exclusively Black women watch a cut. I think a lot came out there. The fact that Ferguson happened was a really confounding thing in production. Because it felt like something monumental was happening. It clearly was hitting on a lot of these themes that we had set out to explore from the beginning, like criminalizing black youth, the assumptions that are made about people, all of that with these awful, lethal consequences. So we shot a lot of it because we didn’t want to miss it. Hopefully in the end film it’s maybe not so apparent, but it took us some time to really figure out, how does this fit into Daje’s story. I think earlier on we had so much more of it [Ferguson footage] but it was happening separately from Daje, and it just felt like we had this crazy footage of police doing these awful things, people standing up and putting their foot down. But Daje wasn’t out on the front lines. She was pregnant. She was really terrified of going out there. Definitely that screening helped bring forth that we just needed to go back to what we set out to do, which was just to tell Daje’s story and what these huge national issues mean to her on a personal level. Obviously being pregnant with a black boy who she’s going to bring into St. Louis and the world, that really became the heart of how we approached it.

We haven’t talked about this publicly, but I think it’s interesting. We debated a lot about how much we need to own up to our position as outsiders, as white filmmakers. I think in that cut we actually had kept in a very brief scene in the moment when Daje is in front of that Obama poster that’s kind of become the poster image of the film. And a few moments after we cut out in the final film, she says, “I don’t want to do this anymore,” and takes off her microphone. I think it’s my hand, my white hand reaches in and grabs the microphone from her. It’s a really small moment to acknowledge ourselves and position ourselves. In the screening, I think it was pretty unanimous, this was the screening of exclusively black women, they were like “What are you doing? This was such a poignant moment and you’re now making it about yourselves.” It was actually great to hear that because for us it’s not a film about ourselves either. We didn’t want to do that either, so it felt like reinforcement to kind of follow our vision and really just let this play out as Daje’s story.

I did talk some more with Levine about how Daje is doing these days. He was at the airport about to board a plane to St. Louis to see her in person when we spoke. I don’t want to reveal too much before the screening, but he says they still talk a lot and that, “she has a lot going that’s really exciting, but she also has incredible challenges every day.” Fortunately, Levine will be here for the screening to give more details in person.

FOR AHKEEM screens at The Cabot on November 26th at 4:30, followed by and Q&A with Jeremy Levine. Tickets are available online or at The Cabot box office.

Filmmaker Spotlight: Daniel Cross, director of I AM THE BLUES

Daniel Cross is a Canadian documentary filmmaker, producer, and social justice activist. He is the co-founder of the Montreal-based cinema production company EyeSteelFilm and is also the founder of Homeless Nation, a non-profit online-based organization that aims to build and strengthen homeless communities across Canada by spreading awareness on homelessness and helping homeless populations transition off the street. Cross has directed many award winning films, such as The Street: A Film with the Homeless and S.P.I.T: Squeegee Punks in Traffic.

Salem Film Fest's Olga Nazarenko caught up with Daniel Cross to talk about his experience filming I Am The Blues.

ON: What sparked your interest in creating I Am The Blues?

DC: I have always been a blues lover. Barbara Lynn and Lil Buck Senegal came to Montreal with the Ponderosa Stomp and I was blown away by their charisma and performance quality. I approached Dr Ike from the Stomp and he agreed to introduce me to these beautiful, elderly blues musicians living across Louisiana and Mississippi.  My only request was to work with musicians without managers so we could get close and go deep without interruption.

ON: Can you describe the biggest challenge you faced in the filmmaking process during the time you spent on the film?

DC: Getting the musicians to behave! They are real characters. Carol Fran was eyeballing the camera operator and asked him if he knew what a Cougar was…. But, seriously, this film was fun to make. It is full of life - vim and vigor.

There were also challenges from a demographic perspective. The musicians are Black - I am White. They live in the deep South - I live in the dark North. They are in their 80’s and actively still performing - I am in my 50’s and still a working stiff. They were raised on plantations and experienced extreme racism and yet still have a twinkle in their eyes - I deeply respect them and learned so much about my world view from hanging out with them.

ON: How did you choose Bobby Rush as the central character of the film? 

DC: Bobby Rush is kind and he is generous. He caught on quickly to what I was trying to do - filming the last of these old blues devils before they pass. The next generation will perhaps play the blues, but they will not have the base experiences where the roots of the blues derive from. This had to happen now. It was a last opportunity, just a matter of time. Bobby helped me connect with the other musicians. They all knew Bobby Rush and were interested, even excited, when he came around, which was a great motivator for dynamic and engaged scenes. Bobby Rush won the Grammy last month. He is a champ. I love him.

ON: Due to time constraints, did you need to cut out any characters or a particularly interesting story? 

DC: I recorded 100’s of hours and scores of musicians not in the final cut. More was cut out than is in the movie. Please visit www.iamthebluesmovie.com where you will find many video clips not in the film. You can also take a 360-degree virtual tour of the Blue Front Juke Joint and see performances, listen to the Juke Joint, and hang out listening to stories at the bar.

ON: The film captures the passion that these musicians had for blues music. When did you first become interested in the blues?

DC: When I was a teenager in the late 70’s, the world’s Largest Winnebago was bringing a caravan of blues devils to perform at the Vancouver Folk Festival. I headed to Jericho Beach hours before the opening act and spotted blues harmonica legend Frank Frost dressed up in polyester showman black. He was one of the blues devils I dreamed of meeting. I nervously said “hi” ... he said, “Where’s the Liquor Store”? Off we went to the Kitsilano branch where he handed me an empty liquor box and proceeded to fill it up with 40’s of Vodka.  After safely delivering the case of booze, I was christened an honorary roadie and spent the week inside that Winnebago listening to the most incredible blues music and stories. At the time, I wasn’t a filmmaker, but this experience motivated me to become a documentary filmmaker and taught me the beauty of first person lived experiences, a story telling approach that my films are renowned for. So, today I am making this film about the last remaining blues devils and documenting their historic stories, filming the last originals before time runs out.

ON:  Was creating the film all work, or did you have a chance to enjoy the music, moonshine, and crawdads? 

DC: I had more fun making this film than any other, a true guilty pleasure. Believe me, there is certainly work involved and discipline required to get things right. But honestly, documentary is about sharing life with people, gaining trust, becoming friends, and getting to know each other on a profound level. Life long friendships with music, moonshine, crawdads and humor shared along the way! 

I AM THE BLUES is the closing night film of Salem Film Fest 2017, screening on Thursday, March 9 at 7pm at CinemaSalem.

I AM THE BLUES: A Look into the Lives of the Last Blues Legends

By Olga Nazarenko

The pungent odor of boiling crawdads mixes in the air with the aroma of cigarette smoke. The hazy, blistering sun encourages drops of sweat to trickle down the back. Cold Bud Light soothes the aching thirst that accompanies an afternoon of raspy singing. The distant sound of croaking bullfrogs and crickets in the bayou are drowned out by the sultry twang of a 12-bar blues scale on an old Epiphone guitar played by an old blues legend.

From the swamps of the Louisiana bayou to the dive bars of the Mississippi delta, Montreal-based director Daniel Cross takes viewers into the intimate lives of a few of the last remaining blues legends still touring the Chitlin’ Circuit in his Canadian documentary film, I Am The Blues. The soul-shaking guitar licks and heart-melting lyrics belong to musicians Bobby Rush, Barbara Lynn, Henry Gray, Carol Fran, Lazy Lester, Bilbo Walker, RL Boyce, Jimmy ’Duck’ Holmes, Lil Buck Sinegal, LC Ulmer and their friends in the North Mississippi Hill Country.

"The blues made me. So now I'm making the blues,” explains one Chitlin' Circuit old-timer in the film. The blues devils of the deep American South, many now in their 80's, still continue to sit on their porches and the dilapidated benches of "jukes", music joints, to play jam sessions and share memories from the good ol' days. I Am The Blues commences with a scene of one of the last jukes left on the Mississippi Blues Trail, the Blue Front Café, owned and still operated by Jimmy "Duck" Holmes. The Blue Front Café, run by the Holmes family since 1948, first served as a second home to those tilling the cotton fields during the segregation era. The Blue Front Café and the other jukes on the southern side of the "Dixie" line in the backwaters of Mississippi and Louisiana were the only places that African-American blues musicians felt "free".

Cross's central subject in I Am The Blues is Bobby Rush, a blues musician born in 1933. With intricate guitar licks and sequined suits, Rush still dazzles the present-day crowds that linger in the worn-down jukes along the Chitlin' Circuit. Rush chronicles his history playing blues music along the Mississippi delta, recalling playing for hamburgers and at the most, a couple of dollars at the end of the night. In the era of the Jim Crow laws, the connected string of music venues, diners, juke joints, and theaters throughout the eastern, southern, and upper midwestern areas of the United States, known as the Chitlin' Circuit, provided a place for African-American musicians to find employment long before the Civil Rights movement.

"When I get lonesome, I stay in and sing the blues. And have me a drink," states Bud Spires, before busting out a melancholy tune on his harmonica in I Am The Blues. Blues music provided emotional release and a creative outlet for African-American classic roots players, who constantly faced tension from racial discrimination. According to Rush, in the time of segregation white audiences would want to listen to the music of African-American blues players, but requested for the stage curtain to be drawn shut to refrain from seeing the faces of the musicians. Not only did blues music provide African-American musicians with an outlet for expression, it cultivated a sense of community among the bayous and Baptist churches of the Deep South. In I Am The Blues, Daniel Cross films a crawdad BBQ party attended by many of the musicians in the film. Blues music brought these performers together and love kept them together as friends and family. When discussing blues music with one musician in the film, Cross asks whether love is involved when creating the intricate tunes. The musician replies, "Yeah, yeah, you gotta feel it in the heart."

I Am The Blues captures the hope and sense of freedom that a generation of African-Americans experienced while plucking the old, worn strings of a guitar and singing stanzas about the devil. The documentary film depicts an oral history of the powerful, yet nearly extinct genre of blues music founded in the deep American South. Although contemporary audiences respect blues music as the origin of genres like rock 'n' roll, r&b, hip-hop, and reggae, will blues survive into the next generation? Or will blues as a music genre and art form disappear with the fade of the blues devils in the Chitlin' Circuit?

I AM THE BLUES is the closing night film of Salem Film Fest 2017, screening on Thursday, March 9 at 7pm at CinemaSalem.

Filmmaker Spotlight: Catching up with SFF Alum Jay Cheel

Jay Cheels' film BEAUTY DAY was shown at SFF 2013 and this year he returns to Salem Film Fest with HOW TO BUILD A TIME MACHINE.  SFF program director Jeff Schmidt caught up with the Canadian based filmmaker to talk about his work as a documentary filmmaker.

JS: How did you first get into filmmaking?

JC: I was a big movie watcher as a kid, so I was drawn to filmmaking at an early age. That led to making short films throughout high school and eventually film school. After a brief stint at a video game company -- where I filmed behind the scenes documentaries -- I decided to make my first film, BEAUTY DAY. I was offered support from Primitive Entertainment, and I've been working professionally in film and television since.

JS: We were first introduced to you when we screened BEAUTY DAY at SFF 2012.  Can you talk about filming that documentary and update us on what Ralph is up to these days?

JC: Filming BEAUTY DAY was one of the best times of my life. It was a summer of hanging out with Ralph and filming him coming up with crazy stunts. It was great having the opportunity to experience that first hand. Since then, Ralph's continued to grow his bike business and I keep in touch with him and see him as much as I can.

JS: This year, we'll be showing your most recent film, HOW TO BUILD A TIME MACHINE.  Can you talk about how this film came to be and how you met the two men that are at the center of the documentary?

JC: HOW TO BUILD A TIME MACHINE started as a short film which I made in film school. That film was called OBSESSED AND SCIENTIFIC, and feature Rob Niosi in the early days of building his time machine replica prop (at that point he was three years in).  I stayed in touch with Rob, and years later felt it was worth revisiting the subject matter on a bigger scale. The film started as one thing, and eventually morphed into what it is now. I think the film ended up being a little more sincere, sentimental, and emotional than I'd originally expected. I'm glad to see it's really resonating with people.

JS: If you could go back in time to talk to yourself when you were beginning as a filmmaker what would you tell yourself?  Or would that disrupt the time-space continuum too much that you might just pass yourself an anonymous note?  Ok, this is just sounding strange... help!

JC: I think I would simply encourage myself to be more aggressive in my pursuits and get moving sooner, because time flies!

JS: Do you believe traveling back in time will ever be possible?

JC: I think Ron Mallett (featured in HOW TO BUILD A TIME MACHINE) makes a convincing argument that suggests it might be possible. I'll go with his answer.

JS: As a documentary filmmaker, what motivates and inspires you?

JC: I just like the idea of telling great stories which feature interesting and unique people. I've been lucky enough to form long lasting relationships with the people in my films, so that's been the best part of the process.

JS: As we celebrate 10 years of Salem Film Fest, what do you think is the importance of documentary film in our daily lives and society?

JC: There are many different types of documentaries with varying goals. For me, I'm drawn to films that entertain, enlighten, and push the boundaries of cinematic documentary storytelling.

HOW TO BUILD A TIME MACHINE screened on Tuesday, March 7 at 8pm at CinemaSalem

Filmmaker Spotlight: Estephan Wagner LES SAUTEURS (THOSE WHO JUMP)

In LES SAUTEURS (THOSE WHO JUMP), over one thousand African migrants live in a makeshift camp in the forest overlooking Melilla, from where they repeatedly try to jump the high-security border fences that separate Africa from Europe. When filmmakers hand a camera over to Malian emigrant, Abou Bakar Sidibé, and step away, the result is a uniquely authentic inside look at a parallel world.

Salem Film Fest program director Jeff Schmidt caught up with Estephan Wagner, one of the co-directors of the film and the editor.

JS: LES SAUTEURS (THOSE WHO JUMP) is rather timely and quite unique in its vantage point regarding the difficulties faced by refugees, how did the film come about?

EW: In 2014, Moritz and I read a lot about the situation in Melilla, where THOSE WHO JUMP takes place.  We were really emotionally touched.  On the the one hand shocked by the border itself, the institutionalized violence that lies in this border that we actually all pay for with our taxes in Europe.  On the other hand we were really impressed by the strength and the resilience of these young men on the other side of the border, that even when people die or get badly injured - it looks like they just clench their teeth and keep on trying again and again and again.  That for us really deserved some sort of recognition and we felt the urge to make a film about them.

We very quickly realized that there are many films out there about refugees and also at this very place there have been films before, so we were wondering what we could add to the theme, to the place and even more so to filmmaking by doing this film.  We discussed that the discourse about refugees always seemed to be the same, which was out of a position of power - we were talking about them.  In the best of the cases, we were talking with them.  But very rarely, if ever, were they talking to us.  So we decided to give away power, to engage in, let's say, a game of empowerment and democratization.  We gave away the camera, decided not to shoot a single frame, to allow them - later on it became Abu -  to shoot what they felt was important.  And to shoot it in the way he wanted to shoot it, and to make aesthetic choices.

Later on we realized, actually by doing this, he was more than a character and the cinematographer, he was making aesthetic choices, he was making narration choices and that in our eyes made him really into a co-director.  In the course of the editing, we decided to credit him just as us, and so we have three co-directors now.  And that also has practical repercussions, we for example share all of the income, we share all of the prizes and any prize money, and we are very happy that we made that choice.

JS: As a filmmaker, the experimental, almost found footage-like nature of the film must have been both a challenge and quite a rewarding experience as an editor, once you were able to figure out how to tell the story. 

EW: Yes!!  I'm one of the three directors but I am the film's sole editor. It was a challenge, obviously it was - the footage was fragmented, there were great things about the footage about the intuitiveness of the footage and the intimacy - but there were big challenges.  It was very fragmented, very often scenes would not have a beginning or not have an end or the camera would pan away as something important was happening.  There was very little coverage of scenes as you might expect, so there was a lot of work to be done there.  At the same time, I reminded myself that the very strength of the footage was in this amateur like, found footage like quality and I always wanted to find the balance between how you shape scenes in a way that they work, but also how do you keep this strength and authenticity that they have so that it gets transmitted to the audience.  I think we achieved that very well.

JS: What was your workflow process with Abou Bakar Sidibé, who not only serves as our guide, but also the film's cinematographer?  I'm guessing you might have been holding your breath awaiting the first batch of footage to see if the collaboration was going to work?

EW: Actually, funnily enough no.  At the beginning we were really testing, we didn't know that he was going to be our man.  At the beginning we gave out three cameras, but quite early on we realized that Abu was going to be the main character.  And that was partly because we got along really well with him, which was very crucial, there was an element of mutual trust, but also in his footage there was something special, there was some sort of sensitivity that transcended his lack of experience.  Obviously he had no training whatsoever as a cinematographer or filmmaker, so the images he shot at the beginning were vertical, like shooting with your mobile phone.  So we had to start from scratch really.  But on the other hand he had something authentic he brought to it and he had a joy in filming, which developed really into a love for filming, which is part of the film now, this process of falling in love with it.  But as the project evolved we didn't really hold our breath each time, we knew we were either going there to pick up images or someone from Malia, a fixer, was going to send us images.  Those were really enormously tense and beautiful moments, as we were sitting in our nice cozy editing room and these folders would be slowly ticking in through the internet.  It felt like being a small child on Christmas eve and you had to wait for the moment where you could unwrap presents.  We were not present during the shooting, that was one of our rules, as we didn't want to interfere.  Very often we didn't know what to expect and we wouldn't understand the images that were coming in,  we would need to watch 10,15-20 clips until we finally realized, "oh wait a second, they are hiding, right" or that the police were raiding the camp, so they were really strong scenes that unfolded in this very bizarre way in front of our eyes.

JS: As a documentary filmmaker, what motivates and inspires you?

EW: Humanity, in all of its ups and downs, and pros and cons, humanity/real life is what motivates me.  I've never been interested in making fiction films, though I like fiction films, I watch them, but I think my time is much too precious to invent stories when life is so full of incredibly, strong, beautiful and important stories. Humanity inspires me.

JS: As we celebrate 10 years of Salem Film Fest, what do you think is the importance of documentary film in our daily lives and society?

EW: It's about inspiring people and diversifying our social conversation.  We seem to get more and more trapped in these small facebook-like groups, where everybody is thinking the same way as we do and then there are those out there that think differently and that are almost our enemies.  For them, it's obviously the same way.  Documentary films I think can go beyond those closed circles and open up our minds and bring nuances into this very complex world.  As filmmakers, I really think we have a responsibility there, to go beyond the easy elements of entertainment - not that entertainment is bad, it's something good to have in your films as it can help audiences engage, but it can't be the goal, it has  to be a means to get your goal out there.  I hope that documentary films can impregnate our society and help us to live a tiny bit more aware.

LES SAUTEURS (THOSE WHO JUMP) screened on Monday, March 6 at 6pm at CinemaSalem