Programmer’s Corner
For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to do one thing and one thing only: make movies. Most people spend their whole lives in search of what they want to, but I have been blessed from a very early age to know exactly what my career ambitions were. Cinema is the one constant in my life and it has given me a sense of joy and purpose. Instead of excavating my passions, I’ve spent the early part of my life harnessing them, exploring them, and letting it them take me to new and exciting places.
Growing up, you’d seldom find me playing outside, playing sports, or getting my hands dirty. Despite my parents’ best efforts to encourage me to do more physically demanding activities, I spent my free time frequenting my local Blockbuster Video. I made friends with the cashiers, turned my rentals in on time (most of the time), and traded them in for more hidden gems. For Christmas my parents always received a long list of my desired film titles. The only thing that changed over the years were my choice in titles. Like the wisdom we obtain as we grow older, so too did my cinema palette. To this day, one of the greatest pleasures in my life is exposing my friends and family to obscure, strange, artistic, and thought-provoking films and awaiting their bewildered responses. More often than not, they would come away with new perspectives and appreciation for cultures outside of their own.
I’ve often been asked what film or what director served as the definitive catalyst for my love of cinema. While I certainly had favorite films (American Beauty, Monster) and directors (Paul Thomas Anderson, Stanley Kubrick), the impetus for my adoration of cinema did not derive from a film or a director at all. It came from a little-known film critic named Roger Ebert. Ebert didn’t just write film reviews, he gave poignant, soul-bearing life lessons. Even when I vehemently disagreed with him, he made me view film in a thoughtful, measured manner and supplied me with the language and knowledge I needed to examine all creative works.
I watched his televised Siskel and Ebert show like it was live theatre. It fascinated me to see two brilliant, articulate minds defending the merit of something most just viewed as “entertainment” like they were standing up for their own integrity. You would have thought they were political opponents in a consequential presidential election, but they were simply debating the value (or lack thereof) of Speed 2. They cared about the medium deeply and I found through their guidance that I did too. I credit Mr. Ebert as the biggest inspiration for my love of film, but also my writing in general.
When the time came to choose a major for college, I vividly remember my mother declaring: “If you don’t pursue a life in the film industry, you will have wasted your entire childhood.” She was right. I was a student of film before I even became fluent with the language. I caught on quickly, though. I crammed in every bit of film theory, film history, and genre-focused elective courses I could squeeze out of a four-year Bachelor of Arts Degree. Then came the crushing, sobering reality of a post-college film graduate: I had become a struggling artist.
I had a degree I worked hard for and a wealth of high-brow knowledge that in no way assured me that I’d ever make a living off of. It was a humbling experience that lit a fire under my derriere. I refused to believe I’d wasted four years of my life just to say I was pretentious film enthusiast. Unlike receiving a Bachelor of Science in Engineering degree or becoming a Doctor of Medicine, there was no definitive blueprint for how to become a successful filmmaker. So much of the film industry is reliant on who you know, a propensity for failure, and a drive to persevere under the harshest of conditions. In short, it is anything but glamorous. It is grueling, challenging, and all-consuming. However, it is also rewarding, joyous, and life-affirming.
I secured my first job on a major film set in 2012 with the film adaptation of August: Osage County (starring Julia Roberts, Meryl Streep, among many others). I remember getting the acceptance call. I had one of those giddy, out-of-body movie experiences where you are grinning ear-to-ear while dancing around your bedroom and trying not to tip off your excitement to the employer on the other end of the line. Working on that set was an intense culture shock. The 12+ hour work days, the tightly wound tension between department heads, and the constant threat of being on the receiving end of a verbal lashing for the tiniest of infractions.
This is the part of filmmaking they don’t teach you in class. In many ways, film sets are run like boot camps. Not just in regards to their specific time codes, but also the intensive nature of the environment you inhabit. I always assumed making movies would be reminiscent of the “blooper reel” at the end my favorite comedy. It is the intersection of many different creative trades working together to make a unified piece of work.
For every trying day on set, I was reminded that I got to eat lunch with Meryl Streep, which made the sleep deprivation and sustained anxiety fade away. Even more rewarding than that, though, was the realization that people who were experts in their respective fields came together to create something tangible that would live on beyond them. In a small, but not insignificant way, I had done the same. My experience on the set of August: Osage County opened the door for many more exciting projects over the years including more films, television, commercials, and everything in between.
After 6 years of working in various capacities on film sets, I decided it was time to apply my experience to one of my own projects. I knew firsthand how challenging independent filmmaking was, but I also reminded myself that I did not go to film school just to work on “other” people’s movies. I got to work on what would become my directorial feature film debut, You People. A semi-autobiographical comedy exploring issues of identity and racial politics. Both of which were issues I dealt with personally growing up as a double minority in conservative Oklahoma.
It was not enough to have good story. It would take a village to pull off this ambitious first project. It occurred to me that in my six years of working on local sets, I had acquired friends and colleagues from every major film department (sound, hair and makeup, camera, etc.). It simply took a series of calls to assemble an entire film crew all eager to support me on this crazy endeavor.
In 2017, after a few years of development, I remember standing on set, looking around at an excited, hardworking, and talented cast and crew looking to me for “direction.” I had to sit with that moment for a while. I had busied myself with getting all the pieces together, I forgot to savor the pride and feeling of accomplishment I felt having brought a life-long dream of mine to fruition. Every day on set brought me an immeasurable amount of joy. The film went on to make its world premiere at the DeadCenter Film Festival where it took home the “Best Oklahoma Film” Award. Seeing the film during two sold out screenings amongst friends, family, and curious strangers was one of the most heartening and emotional experiences of my life. After 2 years on the festival circuit, the film secured distribution and is currently available on streaming.
The success of You People put a small spotlight on me in the state of Oklahoma. One that brought me to new and exciting creative pursuits including being a tenured film programmer for the DeadCenter Film Festival (5 years), a co-host on the film podcast The Cinematropolis (6 years), and the author of a soon-to-be-released memoir (Unconditional). I never dreamed I’d do any of these things, but my fervent pursuit to continue telling stories, building creative relationships, and expressing myself in authentic ways has opened up so many doors and possibilities for my burgeoning film career. All these experiences have made me a better artist, a better storyteller, a better communicator, and, frankly, a better, more empathetic human.
That said, I always tell people “I’m just getting started.” It has been seven years since You People, which is seven years too long for my liking. I’ve had the creative urge get back in the director’s seat and I’ve finally found a project worthy of the cause. My sophomore feature film will be a psychological thriller titled To Make The World Quiet. The film tells the story of a black youth who wakes up in the dead of night, trapped in a deserted apartment complex. Now he must search for clues to his endless night and how echoes of his traumatic past might help him escape. This a story that was birthed out of a need to pay tribute to the many victims lost to police brutality and institutionalized racism while simultaneously channeling my own traumas.
Like all the stories I tell, it is deeply personal. It is also the most ambitious project I’ve ever set out to tackle, both visually and narratively. Drawing inspiration from filmmakers like Jordan Peele (Get Out), Ryan Coogler (Fruitvale Station), and Barry Jenkins (Moonlight), To Make The World Quiet is a genre film that blends elements of horror, mystery, sci-fi, and drama in equal measure. It is my objective to continue to grow and elevate with each project. In many ways, this project feels like the culmination of my life experiences and all the varied creative roles I’ve been fortunate to be a part of. I can’t help but wonder: “I just hope I’ve conducted my film career in a manner that would be the late Roger Ebert proud.”
To celebrate this new chapter in my life, I will be hosting “Film Launch Party” on Sunday, Sept. 14 at Rodeo Cinema Stockyards. Open to the Public. Doors open at 5:30PM; Showtime at 6PM. Join us for an exclusive trailer premiere, a conversation with the director, and exciting raffles and giveaways.