She Taught the World the Song of All Caged Birds

            In the days after I was hurt in the field by school, my fear of the world around me became a quiet, but forceful rage. I was convinced that I might just explode from within, leaving my body split in half on the floor or sidewalk, depending upon where I happened to be when it occurred. I thought of this often, and how it would need to be cleaned up, and about who would be forced to do my final dirty work. It would be the human version of the snake sheddings I saw in the park across the street. This seemed all the more plausible because it had felt like I was split in two that day, and I was still bleeding “down there,” which might actually be the first sign of this whole body split in half snake shedding thing. I wasn’t sure.

One day after school, I could not focus to do the day’s homework. I had stuffed my face with three days’ worth of snacks, until I heaved over the toilet, puking out sweet release of everything except what refused to leave my body. I walked back to the living room and fell to the floor, crying and screaming. Finally. I somehow ended up on all fours, screaming into the floor, every cubic foot of air that resided in my 8-year-old little body. I screamed until my head hit the floor in exhaustion. And then I screamed some more. As I went to bring my head up, my nose scraped against the itchy carpeting. It hurt. And the hurt somehow also felt good, so I did it again. And then again and again. When this vomiting of rage was over, I laid their exhausted, nose already scabbing over from the rug burn that would remain. The first thing I saw when I finally pulled myself up, was the book my mother had told me I wasn’t old enough to read. I decided in that moment that I was now old enough. So I took the little forbidden paperback into my room. Since I’d vomited as proof, I was deemed sick enough for Grandma Betty days, and my book went with me. When Grandma saw the book I was reading, as she brought me my ginger ale and cinnamon toast, she looked a little surprised.

“Honey, where did you get that book?” she asked, trying to remain unfazed.

“From the bookshelf,” I answered, matter-of-factly.

“I’m not sure you are old enough to be reading that,” she said, still standing there.

“I am,” I answered, and looked up and smiled at her. “Thank you for my toast.”

“You are welcome, you cute little imp, you,” she said, as she walked back into the kitchen, laughing to herself.

Over those few days on her sofa, I read I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings from cover to cover. When I got to the chapter where Maya Angelou is raped, it felt like someone had lifted a load of bricks from my chest. My mind spun. That is what happened to me, I thought. I am not the only girl. It was such a small realization. I am not the only girl. I am not the only girl. I am not the only girl. Without realizing it, I had tears running down my face.

“What’s wrong?” Grandma asked, now standing right in front of me. “Is your tumtum bothering you?”

“God doesn’t hate me,” I said, before breaking down, letting the book fall to the floor.

“Of course not, Sweetie,” she said, as she sat down next to me and pulled me in to her pillowy chest. “God loves you. And so does your old grandma.”

I cried in her arms for a long time. And she sat and allowed me to do so for as long as I needed.

“Is everything ok?” she finally asked.

I nodded yes, because it was all I could muster.

I wasn’t sure who this Maya Angelou lady was. I wasn’t even sure I understood the grown up meaning of this title, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings. But I did know that she might have saved my life. Well, her and Grandma Betty. Cuz after that day, I didn’t feel as much like walking out in front of a car like I had planned to do when I went back to school, just to be taken away from the hurting. And I was thankful for that.

 

"Maya Angelou had a profound effect" on my life...here is a great collection of who she was.

© 2014 Charise M. Studesville

SUCKER PUNCHed!

I had every intention of writing a dissection of Sucker Punch after seeing it this weekend.  But when I read this one, I figured, "Why re-invent the wheel?"  Read on:

http://www.lunalindsey.com/2011/03/analysis-of-sucker-punch-feminist.html

Still Standing

So this has been a year of amazing lessons.  Since the wise person is supposed to learn from their lessons, I'll be taking a whack at delving into the in's and out's of the filmmaking process from the perspective of a newbie.  And I'll try to keep it interesting.

TTFN!
Lotusfilmgirl

Sundance 2010

Got in on Monday afternoon to Park City, where 5 feet of snow had fallen over the weekend. The energy and the buzz is always amazing. I love the mix of folks who are diehard film buffs, industry folks, young filmmakers, and those who never see a movie while they are here but do not miss a party.

Crazy altitude headache lasted an entire 24 hours, along with the huffing and puffing that goes with mountain air until your body adjusts. You instantly feel for your asthmatic grandmother.

The shuttles are the smartest thing going. You can basically get anywhere you need to go. Overheard the other day, these women were doing a play-by-play of a film a lot of us were on our way to see. I wanted to choke them. Everyone around them was shooting daggers of hate. "Do not f*c# up my moviegoing with your loose lips," was the translation of the hatestares. There was also a first time filmmaker who was talking extra loud about needing to "GET TO MY SCREENING. OF MY FILM. THAT'S SCREENING HERE. MY FILM. AT A THEATER HERE. SCREENING. HERE. MY FILM." Yeah, we all got it.

Got a last-minute invite to Chefdance. Great food and people watching. It was set up in the basement of Harry O's niteclub/live music venue. Mya performed upstairs after dinner to a jam-packed house of people. Even the club here is getting in on the movie business. There was a roving pack of cameras mostly focused on whichever female patron was most likely to have a wardrobe malfunction while dancing. Naturi Naughton, of Notorious and Fame performed, as well. She is crazy talented, definitely one to watch. I talked to her later about possibly working together to shoot a classy and beautiful video to spotlight her talent and beauty. Went to another party or two. It's all blending together. Blame it on the al-al-al-al-al-al-titude.

Saw a graffiti art piece by British artist Banksy. There is a film here on his work:

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Banksy's 'Exit' to premiere at Sundance Film, narrated by Brit Rhys Ifans, is fest's Spotlight Surprise By Gregg Goldstein Jan 20, 2010, 09:41 PM ET The infamous (and anonymous) graffiti artist Banksy is pulling what may be his biggest prank ever at Sundance -- with the help of fellow Brit Rhys Ifans. The guerrilla pseudo-documentary "Exit Through the Gift Shop," billed as "A Banksy Film" and narrated by Ifans, will have its world premiere Sunday night at the Library Center Theater as the fest's Spotlight Surprise. Cinetic Media is repping sales for the stealth project. Hopes are that an adventurous distributor will pony up as many millions for the film as Banksy earns for the "street art" he secretly leaves in urban spaces. Several of his works have appeared on Park City walls this week. Insiders say "Exit" takes audiences on hairpin twists and turns as it chronicles renegade urban artists and pranksters from around the world. The film is billed as an exploration of street art. According to a description, "Los-Angeles based filmmaker Terry Guetta set out to record this secret world in all it's thrilling detail. For more than eight years, he traveled with the pack, roaming the streets of America and Europe, the stealthy witness to the world's most infamous vandals. But after meeting the British stencil artist known only as 'Banksy,' things took a bizarre turn." Jaimie D'Cruz of U.K.-based Keo Films produced the project. Holly Cushing and James Gay-Rees exec produced. But whether the artist known as Banksy helmed the film himself is still a mystery. "Sundance has shown films by unknown artists, but never an anonymous one," said fest director John Cooper. He described the film as "part personal journey and part expose on the art world, with its mind-altering mix of hot air and hype." Adding to questions surrounding the film, U.K. crop circle hoaxter John Lundberg was said to be enlisted by Banksy for stealth promotion. However, a spokesperson for the film said Lundberg had no involvement with it. "Exit" is a separate project from "docuBANKSY," an in-the-works documentary about the artist discovered last year on the Internet. Much like Banksy's work, more about the film can be easily found now in Park City, hidden in plain sight.

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Director Interview at Arpa International Film Festival, Los Angeles

http://arpafilmfestival.wordpress.com/2009/10/23/16-meet-charise-studesville/

#16: Meet CHARISE STUDESVILLE

23102009

CHARISE STUDESVILLE, writer/director/producer

Film: THE HANDS

Screens: Saturday Oct. 24, 4:45 pm – Emerging Stars: Filmmakers on the Edge program

The Hands is a story of the love between a father and daughter that can’t last in its original pure state. As the grown-up daughter now sits at her father’s bedside in his final hours, she becomes fixated upon his hands and how they have come to represent all of who he was, as a man and as a father.

1. Tell us a little about yourself and where you have lived, highlighting any major cultural identities that define, influence or challenge you in your life.

I have spent most of my life in the midwest, growing up for much of my childhood in Madison, WI, and returning there to attend the University of Wisconsin. Since graduating from college, I have lived in Chicago. For the past two years, I have split my time between Los Angeles and Chicago.

I was born a multi-cultural baby before it was chic. Coming from different worlds on either side of my family, I learned very early on to look beyond the surface to view who people really are, at their core.

While there were definitely times when my being culturally different from the blond-haired, blue-eyed standard of beauty that defined the population where I grew up, I have to say that I always felt my mixed-race status was a bonus. From the very beginning, I loved and was loved by very different people from very different worlds. It’s funny, but no matter where I go in the world, people assume I am one of them, a member of their cultural tribe. I really think this has informed my filmmaking. I have always been able to hone in on the humanist element in people, and in the characters I create in my writing and filmmaking. You can’t learn that in school. You either have the sensibilities, or not. I am thankful for all of the nations that live within my heart, and I think the world is finally catching up with my view.

2. How did you come to be a filmmaker, and where/how did you learn the “craft” of filmmaking?

I was trained as a journalist at the University of Wisconsin School of journalism. I went on to use my writing skills within politics, the law, non-profits, etc., but always circled back to fiction writing.

A few years ago, I began studying screenwriting and filmmaking, first during my graduate studies at DePaul University, and then at the Iowa Writers Workshop. I subsequently wrote several screenplays that won awards in various writing contests. After learning the production side of the business during an internship at Martin Chase Productions (Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, Cheetah Girls, The Princess Diaries), I knew that the one piece left to learn was directing. I was accepted into the USC/Warner Brothers Directing & Producing Program, where it all sort of came together for me. I was able to come out of the program and head directly into production of my directorial debut, along with executive producing another film.

My instructor at USC really helped me in placing a template of organization over the already-honed film aesthetics that came from studying the craft for so many years.

With all of that said, I still feel that my most useful training came from the year I spent as a young girl in a body cast, literally forced to watch the world go by. My imagination served as my friend all of those months, and now it serves as the basis for my career.

3. What prompted the idea for your film and how did it evolve?

One of the screenplays that I wrote is a modern version of The Big Chill, but populated by a multi-culti cast of women friends. Each woman has a complicated and sometimes haunting background story as they come into the present.

The Hands is one such back story. It is based upon the real-life experience of many women I have met, myself included, who idolized their fathers as little girls, but who as adults had to come to grips with the reality that Daddy was just a man, a flawed human being. It is a pivitol moment for both daughters and fathers, and I wanted to look at it up close. I also wanted to explore the ideas of memory, loss, and forgiveness within the confines of the father/daughter relationship. This story seemed the perfect way to do just that.

4. What is your single favorite line from your film?

It’s the last spoken words of the film: Joy and sadness are not exclusive of one another. One can be happy to be free of the imprisonment, but still long for the familiarity of the captor.

It applies to a lot of different kinds of relationships.

5. What movies would you say have transformed or changed the way you see the world?

Room With A View was the first film I remember seeing and thinking that I would love to create something that could transport the viewer so completely to another place and time, and relay the longings and experiences of the characters to the viewer, both visually and emotionally.

Daughters of The Dust and Eve’s Bayou left a longing in my heart for the experience of actually becoming a filmmaker. Both of these films drove me to begin the dig, to figure out how story and picture become one.

---

CHICAGO BLACK HARVEST FILM FESTIVAL

The Hands had the honor of being given a slot on the 2009 Opening Night roster of films a few weeks ago.  That, in itself, was an honor.  Then the countdown whirlwind began with everyone within a hundred mile radius trying to get their hands on a ticket for this event that was basically soldout before the programs were even back from the printer.  After sending out more "sorry" emails than I ever wanted, the reality hit that I was really bringing my project back to my home crowd.  Butterflies in my stomach doesn't begin to describe the nerves I was feeling.  After I figured out what to wear (I am a girlie-girl to my core), I was on my way with my dates--she who gave birth to me, and she to whom I gave birth.  

The Gene Siskel Film Center in Chicago was buzzing with energy and excitement.  It was the 15th Anniversary of the Black Harvest Festival, and there was a reverence in the air for what had been accomplished during that time.  Awards were bestowed.  One went to actor Hill Harper, who joined the festivities via a humorous and heartfelt recording, as he was stuck in NYC taping his hit show "CSI:  NY."  The other went to maverick local journalist Hermene Hartman.  The latter was given out by Chaz Ebert, noted Chicago attorney, and wife of Roger Ebert.  As I sat there in the room, witnessing these powerhouse women with whom I was sharing stage space, I was completely humbled.  As Chaz noted, this was an especially special night.  The festival has become known for launching and fostering wonderful new talent.  We were sitting in the house that Siskel and Ebert built watching films that were born of fresh, new voices...and then my film cued up to play.  When I was called up to the podium to speak about my project, I left my body and began to watch from  above.  The words I spoke were coming from the mouth of a new director who had somehow found her way to living and making good upon a dream that once had seemed only remotely possible.  The faces in the audience were engaged.  The energy still palpable.  I still don't recall what I said as coming from my own mouth.  I remember it as being from that woman up on the stage.

A few minutes later, The Hands was on the screen, in living color.  Thanks to the unbelievable technical powerhouse that is the projection and sound of the Siskel Center, I saw my film as it has never been seen before.  Crowd smiled when they were supposed to smile, winced when they were supposed to wince, and cried when they were supposed to cry.  Doesn't get much better than that.

Followed up the screening with a too-much-fun radio interview later in the week with the ever wise and ever funny Brian Babylon, http://vocalo.org/explore/content/46214.  We had so much fun, in fact, that he has invited me back to do some adlib media-talk.  Brought back the good 'ol days in the basement of the University of Wisconsin School of Journalism where my friends and I spent a summer running a daily radio news show.  Fun then.  Fun now.

Finished up the week with a little birthday celebration.  Thirty-three is a good place to be.  I think I'll stay.

LA SHORTS FEST--THE NAKED TRUTH

The L.A. Shorts Fest was a great festival.  The Hands screened on the opening Friday night, in the block after Demi Moore's directorial debut.  It was partnered with some really great films, which is high compliments for our work.  Very cool.  Got great feedback, and a few requests for screeners (screening copies) by a couple of studio people.  Always good.

Here's the part I wasn't expecting.  I received a little email with a pictorial gift that I could have done without...someone who felt the need to make his privates, well, public.  I have a friend who is an anchor at CNN who has been dealing with a few oddballs (no pun intended) of her own, and it all just leaves me perplexed.  I just don't get it.  Is this supposed to make someone more appealing to the recipient?  WTF?!  I have found new ways of screening my mail that will hopefully keep that from happening again.  One friend joked that receiving the x-rated fan mail means you have hit a new high in popularity.  I'd rather have a golden statue.

A Meeting In the Ladies Room

A few months ago, I was invited to join a women’s networking group.  There are periodic gatherings in person, but, for the most part, our contact with one another is via emails and “the boards,” a virtual bulletin board where we can access any and all info one could think of having to do with the entertainment industry.  I wasn’t expecting much.  I have, however, become completely enamored with this wellspring of intelligence, insight, and can-do-ism.  Members will often post a note that they are looking for a contact for a specific company or person, but it goes deeper than that. 

 

In these most difficult of economic times, there are many women in the industry who are having a really tough time keeping a roof over their heads.  One of our members, new to Los Angeles, was days away from being put out of her apartment, with no where to turn.  She posted that she was looking for a service-for-trade situation.  She is now, thanks to leads from our membership, living with an elderly lady with a home with room to spare, for whom she cooks dinner and does errands, in exchange for her room and board.  This has allowed her to keep her industry job in the early mornings.  All thanks to a continuum of women.

 

I responded to a call for members who might be interested in a “brainstorming group,” even though I wasn’t sure what that would mean.  Much to my surprise, and pleasure, I met with three other women the first night at a health-food restaurant in Hollywood.  We were, respectively:  a stand-up comedy sketch artist/graphics designer; a marketing person for an online greeting card company; a television/music producer; a writer/director/filmmaker.  The ground rules were that we would each bring a project or idea that we were working on, at any stage of development, to share with the group and receive feedback regarding how to expand and further it.  In the span of two hours, we traded stories, each allotted five minutes to introduce our project, five minutes to receive feedback, and five minutes to then discuss.  At the end of each our time allotments, we each came up with what we would pledge to accomplish by the following meeting.  We each also told the others exactly what we needed from the others in terms of encouragement and support.  One woman was so clear on what would feel best for her, she gave us a kind of script:  “When I post on our page that I have done X, it would really feel good for you guys to say Z.”  We laughed about the fact that all of our relationships in our lives could be served by such frankness and clarity.  Even though I walked in with the start of a nasty migraine, I left feeling buoyant.  The genuine care that we all showed for one another’s passions and journey was so refreshing.  As women, we are often pitted against each other, or choose to see ourselves as such.  In this town, and in this time, where so many view their little corner of the universe as a zero sum game, here I was in a place that was only to support and nurture me.  And that’s the way it was…

Five Dollar Footlong + Entourage=FUN

Was under the weather on Friday, so I missed the opening night at the International Black Women’s Film Festival.  After having to cancel all of my travel reservations, I re-booked, switched hotels, and was back on my way Saturday evening.  It’s a short plane trip from L.A. to San Francisco.  Just as we entered the Bay Area, I was treated to the most incredible sunset I have ever witnessed.  An orangey blaze across an aubergine sky.  Felt otherworldly.  Checked into the Clift Hotel…just in time for the party, apparently.  It made me wish I could travel with an entourage.  I so get why folks who find success in the entertainment business often bring with them their closest friends.  For one thing, it gets lonely.  And, then there is also the fact that inside jokes without an accomplice are a little pathetic, as they are only inside your head.  Plus, if you are only in a place for a night or two, the kind of connections that are there for the making are not normally of the kind that a happily married woman wants.  I have never had a problem taking myself to a movie or dinner.  I learned at the age of sixteen that solo movies can be quite a treat.  But, there are times when you just want another human who knows you to bear witness to what you are exploring and experiencing.  My oldest daughter was with me for a festival in Lake Arrowhead, CA a few months back.  The sheer white-knuckled terror we experienced heading up the mountainside to 6000 feet above the rocky valley below is now fodder for us to laugh about until we are doubled over.  We must have looked like a really bad Thelma and Louise meets Twin Peaks smash-up…and speaking of Twin Peaks (and that is where it was filmed), we were convinced that the woods held the most treacherous of mass murderers, just waiting to make furniture and clothing from our body parts.  (We are avowed city people.  It’s official.)  And who else would have had a mutual attack of the juvenile sleep-deprived giggles over the suddenly funny “$5 footlong” Subway song.  Point is, you had to be there…with someone. 

Next...

I have now been on the festival merry-go-round for three months.  The line that keeps coming to mind is, "Be careful what you wish for."  And, I don't mean for this to sound as though I am ungrateful.  I am anything but that.  I am simply experiencing what a lot of newbies discover.  You make this film that you are passionate about.  You hone the best writing you can muster.  You choose the most talented people to work with to make it shine.  You get on set, and the ups and downs are incredible. Passions flare, urging one another to do work that is better for it. When post-production time arrives, the excitement of dissecting and melding the initial vision with the reality of what was captured is at hand.  Editors call this part "polishing the turd."  Not very eloquent, but it must be what it feels like to be given hundreds, sometimes thousands, of tiny pieces to make one coherent whole.  It is said that a movie is written three times:  the screenplay by the writer, the shooting by the director (and cinematographer), and the final meld by the editor.  I always understood this.  The part I didn't really consider, albeit naive of me, is the running around the world to talk about it phase.  But it has to be done, especially in this age of YouTube.  Everybody and their brother, twice removed, feels that they are a filmmaker.  I have talked to folks who claim that they have done 8, 12, 20 movies.  Then I find out that they turned the digital cam upon themselves going to the loo, and called that "film." But, legit movies with rich stories and characters are still competing for the same viewers' attention.  And to do that, you have to run around the world talking about the film you put your heart and soul into.  All of the people who gave time and effort to the film deserve for me to give it that effort.  And, I owe that to myself so that I can continue to tell stories that otherwise wouldn't get told...kind of the mantra of Lotus Girl Films.

So, my days have shaken out like this:

•Joining a women's brainstorming group, as an offshoot to a networking group of women in the industry.  (More about this in the next post.)

•Research at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences on my next project, a political thriller

•Watching old suspense/thriller/political films as inspiration and research (maybe the best perk of the job)

•Supporting other women directors...go see "The Hurt Locker" directed by Kathryn Bigelow!

•Polishing a script for a table reading next week with actors

•Trying to make the moments that I spend with my kids happy and connected ones

•Trying not to rely too heavily on caffeine, even the green tea kind

•Trying not to freakout when my four-year-old lands us in the ER with a "broken chin" on the 4th of July  (four stitches and a few days out of the pool, and he's fine; mommy is still re-living watching the numbing of the wound--oy!)

•Talking to other writers and story people about new projects

•Talking to folks about money for the next projects

•Getting ready for two festivals coming up in the next 10 days

All in all, it has been a good couple of weeks.  A good night's sleep, or two, and I should be ready to talk it up some more.  At the end of the day, the whole scene is just a heap of "high level problems."  Like I said, be careful what you wish for.  You will probably get it.  And then some. 

Hollywood Black Film Festival

Yesterday, sat in on sessions with "The Guilds"--SAG, WGA, DGA.  Tons of info, especially helpful for indie filmmakers who may utilize the low-budget agreements.   Also loved the panel with Antwone Fisher (Training Day 2),  Preston Whitmore (This Christmas), Rockmond Dunbar (Pastor Brown), Brett Dismuke (VP-Acquisitions, One Village Entertainment).  Lots of talk about the changing face of distribution due to the folding of major video sale outlets such as Coconuts and Blockbuster, and the move to digitization of film download as the consumer-driven way to view film at home and on the go.  There was also a very important lesson for filmmakers, as shared by a screenwriter who, early on in his career, chose to negotiate his own distribution deal...only to lose out on all of the international revenue for his film, which was also the only real revenue that his movie had.  I doubt anyone in the room will be repeating that one, thanks to his willingness to share his bumps along the way.

I stopped today to tell Tanya Kersey, the Director of the festival, what an incredible job she and her staff have done in organizing the festival.  Everyone is so happy to be here, and thoroughly enjoying the panels, the films, and meeting other filmmakers.  She responded that the filmmakers are the stars of the HBFF.  It's a treat for folks like me who love what they do, and appreciate the appreciation.  I am getting really excited and nervous, anticipating Saturday's screening.  I hope people show up!

Almost forgot!  I will be taking The Hands to San Francisco July 17-19 for the International Black Women's Film Festival.  Sooooo honored to be one of only four shorts chosen for this wonderful, necessary film festival.  Stay tuned...

Cannes Recap

Now that I have had a minute or two to sleep off Cannes, the jet lag, and the French wine that is required in order to be considered polite, I am considering what the take-aways were for this festival.  I have come up with the following, as a start:

1.  Creativity in funding and distribution are the new games across the land.  The old studio method of thinking and doing are really becoming archaic.  Thinking outside of the box is now a survival requirement.

2.  Violence, and more specifically, violence towards women, just never seems to go out of fashion.  The coveted premieres were blood, guts, and torture.  I suppose that fact that we are a world constantly at war, somewhere, will always make this so.  I am not against all violence in film.  I love a good cutting off of the ear when needed.  If the story warrants it, full-speed ahead.  But lengthy scenes of genital mutilation as torture?  Seems like lazy storytelling and filmmaking to me.

3.  The Asian market is about to take over the industry.  The infusion of huge capital alone will make this so.  Should be interesting to see the effect on "Western" product.

4.  American filmmakers need to organize themselves as a group, in order to take advantage of the European short film market.  In a big way.

5.  Hilary Swank knows how to work a red carpet.

Cannes De-Virginization Complete

Last night in Cannes, we were hanging out in the American Pavilion, and I run into a guy hawking his own short film.  Unbeknownst to me, he is a USC grad, knows my entire crew, and even worked on the film I Executive Produced, Kwame.  Sometimes you have to fly half way around the world to meet folks from your own backyard.

Later that night, we made our final pilgrimage to cáfe-land on La Croisette, where I had the distinct pleasure, not, of walking into a basement to use the toilette...only to find a Frenchman in the dark, with only his cigarette lighting the way.  Yeah, didn't stay for that show.

Last day of hustling the Short Film Corner.  We screened The Hands in a private screening room.  Not a big audience, because we were relegated to an early morning slot, but still respectable.  Note to self:  By the time folks are into the Cannes groove, fewer and fewer bodies are there in the morning hours.  It was still amazing to be there, though.  Not one person who had a part in making this film was left out of my brain in those moments. Everybody remembers their first time...