Guest Post: SFFILM Rainin Grantee Chris Cole on Rap, Reinvention, and the Process of (Re)Writing “Rolling Stone”

It’s March 2015. I’m sitting anxiously in the lobby of an Austin hotel waiting for Migos to show up for our interview. I’m a young journalist whose editor lobbed him this opportunity last second in between free shows and drinks at SXSW. Migos? You know them. But keep in mind that this is pre-Bad and Boujee Migos. Before Carpool Karaoke, Mountain Dew Commercials, and a marriage to Cardi B.

The trio showed up late and what followed was a rather dull, hazy, conversation — due in part to my freshman status as an interviewer. But when I began to transcribe the interview days later, it revealed itself to be fascinating for other reasons: Everyone in the interview was sticking to a script. They played their roles within the group that they still play to this day, and gave predictable answers to my admittedly predictable questions. I didn’t know it at the time, but this conversation with Migos provided the blueprint for my feature film script Rolling Stone.

Most rappers are CHARACTERS in the truest sense of the word. It’s why watching Pharrell bug out to Jay-Z over Allure in Fade to Black is so compelling. Or why watching Lil Wayne spill his drink while talking about bidding on one of Frank Sinatra’s cars is hilarious. If you told me Young Thug was going to star in an A24 movie based on his life I would pay top dollar for a front row seat on opening day.

What does the inner life of someone like Quavo or Future look like? On the surface, they’re dynamic, enigmatic, quick witted — and ripe for satire. In the same way that the not-talked-about enough CB4 satirized authenticity in 90s hip hop, I wanted to do that for this new crop of rappers that emerged in the past couple years. And that brought forth the character of Butcher.

Butcher’s doppelgänger in the film is Doug — a music journalist. Being a music journalist can give you a unique amount of access to an artist and their lifestyle. At the same time, you wield a certain amount of power over how the public views the artist. What would Almost Famous look like if it took place today and we took, “You CANNOT make friends with the rock stars’’ to its logical extreme?

In Rolling Stone, Doug has ambitions of being an influential writer despite his latest freelancer role at a clickbait heavy publication. Butcher is an egocentric rapper coasting on newfound fame. They look exactly alike. After Doug interviews Butcher, he haphazardly agrees to play his double in a music video. When one gig as Butcher turns into too many, Doug struggles to find his own voice while reckoning his relationship with the public, substances, and a budding romance with his new editor Ana.

I had completed a draft of this script that was an all-over-the-place broad comedy, but I knew that it was missing something. At the top of 2019, I participated in the Middlebury Script Lab, and shared the script with my mentor Sheril Antonio. Two things came out of that. One, I knew that I needed to center Doug’s character around a specific cause that he wanted to speak out against — this would help justify his reasoning for using Butcher’s platform. Two, I had to figure out what made Doug “angry.”

I decided to look inward for those answers. Summer 2016 was a pivotal moment in the formulation of my own black identity due in large part to the widely circulated videos of Alton Sterling and Philando Castillo’s deaths at the hands of police. While I was raised to understand the difference between myself and my white peers at an early age, those videos forced me to reckon with that on another level. How could I translate the palpable feelings of anger and despair that those videos made me feel? What exact place did that have in the story I’m telling? Who am I to say anything about this?

Armed with a whole new set of challenging questions to answer, I knew I needed to do a page one rewrite. I also knew that I needed to speak to the right people in order to tell this story in a way that was accountable and considered. Like clockwork, the application for the SFFILM Rainin Grant came my way through some research. The Rainin Grant supports, “films that address social justice issues-the distribution of wealth, opportunities, and privileges-in a positive and meaningful way through plot, character, theme or setting.” I applied on a whim — and I got it!

The SFFILM Rainin Grant allowed me the time and space to explore the questions around agency, tone, and character development that had put me in a state of writer’s block for about a year. It was fulfilling and encouraging to be a part of a cohort of filmmakers each at different points in their careers and respective projects. Naturally, we were in conversation with each other in a way that developed all of our projects towards their next stages. My cohort, along with the ultra-supportive staff at SFFILM, comprised a large fraction of the team I consulted in drafting my script.

In the new iteration of the script, there’s this comically absurd event that happens involving a police shooting. It’s not at the forefront of the story, but it’s this offscreen event that catalyzes Doug as a character. The story is not about the trauma of that moment, but rather how everyone in this world responds to that moment.

In the wake of these traumatic events, black people still have to get up and perform in our own ways. We have to go to work the next day and pretend to be fine, or not. Beyond that, everyone feels the need to say something — whether it’s right or wrong. And everyone is expected to say something. Even Bratz dolls released a statement on George Floyd’s death last summer. It’s like that Dave Chappelle bit — where is Ja?

A guiding question for me in figuring out these characters is, “What are Doug and Butcher performing in their day-to-day, and what are they performing in response to this event?”

At the moment, I may have more questions than answers. But by the conclusion of my time as an SFFILM Rainin Grantee, I did have some key takeaways. One: Writing a script is a messy, iterative process, and that should be embraced. Two: While filmmaking is an immensely collaborative process, this also extends to my personal writing process. This story is borne out of so many conversations I’ve had with friends, colleagues, and family — directly or indirectly. The people I surround myself with are who inform my work the most.

As a 2021 SFFILM FilmHouse Resident, I’m excited to push the script past the finish line — and hopefully sit across from Migos one day again, this time penning their biopic.

About Chris Cole

As a child, Chris learned to make films by bossing around his siblings to act in parody rap videos in his Rancho Cucamonga, California home. He recently completed his M.A. in Arts Politics at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts, and has collaborated with MTV and BET. His work has been supported by the Will & Jada Smith Family Foundation, and appeared on Issa Rae Presents, The Fader, and Pigeons & Planes. He is currently an SFFILM FilmHouse Resident in development on his first feature film Rolling Stone, which was selected for the SFFILM Rainin Grant in Spring 2020. Chris lives in Oakland, CA with his twin brother Noah and a black cat that occasionally lives in the backyard. His work can be viewed at YungChris.com

Dispatch from SFFILM Education: Partnering with Pixar to Assist Pandemic Parenting

The SFFILM Education team has wrapped a strange-but-still-quite-busy spring and summer of programming for Bay Area students and families, and we asked them to give us a quick recap of what’s been on their minds. They took the opportunity to share some appreciation for one of our most valued local collaborators in developing world-class educational content for kids. Learn more about what SFFILM Education is up to at sffilm.org/education.

Well, we are fully into the fall semester and Bay Area schools remain mostly shuttered. Somehow, through it all, superhero teachers continue to push ahead with remote learning to provide their students great educational opportunities. Families have also experienced a whole new set of challenges in their households, with parents suddenly entering a new level of involvement in assisting with their children’s schoolwork. Being trapped inside has also tested the patience of both parents and children alike. Families long for the days of going out and doing fun and enriching activities together.

SFFILM Education would normally be engaging with teachers, students, and families directly in classrooms and theaters around the Bay Area. Since March, we’ve pivoted to the world of virtual programming with SFFILM at Home. While we would definitely prefer to see everyone in person, we’re pleased to be able to continue programming interactive film experiences that allow our youth audiences to engage with talented storytellers, filmmakers, and industry professionals from around the world. Thus, we are able to continue providing valuable resources to help develop media literacy and critical thinking skills, illuminate diverse world cultures, and inspire a lifelong appreciation of cinema in our kids.

We’re also fortunate to have deep working relationships with some of the most renowned film studios and artists in the world who gladly give their time to assist us in our work. Recently we had two fantastic programs with our neighbors right across the Bay, Pixar Animation Studios. In September we spoke with Pixar’s Chief Creative Officer Pete Docter and Senior VP of Production (and SFFILM Board member) Jonas Rivera. The creative partnership of this award-winning team has produced the beloved films Up and Inside Out. Our discussion focused on the Pixar storytelling process and how personal aspects of the filmmaking team’s lives are often examined and utilized to discover the emotional core of their films. We also hoped the program would help kids process the complex feelings that they’ve been experiencing during the pandemic, and inspire them to think about creative outlets they can explore to express themselves.

Then on October 4, we gave families the opportunity to get out of the house and experience something only the parents might have done before during their own childhoods. While we didn’t make it back into the theater, we did the next best thing by screening Inside Out during our SFFILM at the Drive-In series at Fort Mason Flix. It was a particularly fitting film with its San Francisco setting, and it gave our team much joy to see families cozied up in blankets in the backs of their cars, munching on popcorn and delighting in the emotional storytelling displayed on the big screen.

We are truly lucky to have such a strong ongoing partnership with Pixar — for over ten years they have worked closely with us to provide our audiences once-in-a-lifetime educational events. We’ve been able to hold sneak-peek screenings of their newest feature film releases, sometimes even within the walls of the studio. Talented directors, writers, and animators have been brought directly into classrooms to discuss their creative process, giving students guidance and inspiration they need to help them on their way toward fulfilling their dreams of growing up to be artists. Teachers have been provided with valuable STEAM learning tools which have allowed them to think outside the box and engage their kids in new ways around math and science. We’ve also held hands-on workshops where kids have learned how to tell stories using visual imagery, sculpted original characters out of clay, made stop-motion animation with everyday objects, and drawn beloved Pixar characters.

We can’t think of a better partner in our mission to educate and entertain Bay Area teachers, students, and families. We look forward to at least ten more years of partnership — indeed, to infinity and beyond!

Learn more about SFFILM Education at sffilm.org/education.

Guest Post: SFFILM Rainin Grantee D’Arcy Drollinger on Camp, Exploitation, Shit, Champagne, and Vaudeville 2.0

When the 2020 SFFILM Festival was canceled in March, D’Arcy Drollinger was denied the Castro Theatre world premiere experience for Shit & Champagne, D’Arcy’s epic debut film adaptation of the popular stage show. Luckily for us all, Frameline44 has saved the day with the presentation of the film’s premiere in the best possible circumstances afforded us in this year outside of cinemas: at the drive-in! You can still get tickets to the world premiere event, Thursday, September 17, 7:30 pm at the West Wind Solano Drive-In, at Frameline.org.
 
Shit & Champagne is a project that is close to the hearts of the SFFILM Makers team, having received SFFILM Rainin Grants for both screenwriting and post-production. We hope you’ll be there at Frameline’s event to cheer along with us for D’Arcy and the entire Shit & Champagne crew! On this exciting occasion, we asked D’Arcy to share some thoughts on the evolution of the film.

Stage to Screen, Shit to Champagne
by D’Arcy Drollinger

Shit & Champagne is my first feature film. Honestly, it is my first film, period. Everyone told me I was crazy to jump right into a feature film without making a few short films first. Everyone told me I was crazy to produce, direct, and star in my first feature film. Everyone told me that adaptations from stage never work as films. So, going into this project I already knew I was working against the odds. Truth be told, if I had known what I “didn’t know” then, I might not have jumped in guns blazing in the same way. In this instance, maybe ignorance was power.

I have made a career out of what I call “Vaudeville 2.0.” Bawdy, loud, lewd, over the top stage productions that combine drag, high camp, slapstick, and commedia dell’arte. All of these things are seen often as “not serious” or fluff, but to be done right they take exacting precision, dedication and craft. I’ve also had a lot of success adapting parody version of film and TV scripts for stage. With this combination, I knew it was inevitable for me to transition into film. The time was right. And while I didn’t understand the mechanics of making a film, I understood what made a film work and how to make people laugh.

The challenges of camp in cinema seemed less daunting until I actually tried to do it. There are already huge hurdles to adapt a stage production for film, but throw in drag and a vaudevillian troupe of actors and the puzzle becomes extraordinarily more difficult.

I knew that films like Shit & Champagne had worked before — I had proof from my heroes like Mel Brooks and the Zucker Brothers, Charles Busch and John Waters — but the medium of film always felt like a mystery. I could produce and direct a stage production with my eyes closed, but the creation of film felt elusive.

Shit & Champagne uses comedy and gender-bending performances in hopes to open audiences to new gender possibilities. This film enlisted a cross-section of actors, performers, and drag kings and queens of the LGBT arts community in San Francisco. And running alongside the ridiculous comedy narrative of Shit & Champagne is also a story where outcasts find each other, where heart does emerge and where friendship is sacred.

While this is a period piece, the everything-but-the-kitchen-sink sensibility allows for a broader canvas to tell the story, and thus we are referring to it as a “soft period” piece. Shot with a heightened aesthetic and saturated colors, we’re aiming for a look that is both authentic and modern.
 
I was inspired by 70’s exploitation films like Coffy and Foxy Brown starring Pam Grier, and Savage Streets with Linda Blair. But I am also a big fan of 70’s TV heroines — Charlie’s Angels, Wonder Woman, the Bionic Woman, Police Woman — Champagne too is a whole lot of woman! I wanted something that felt like John Waters and Russ Meyer collaborated with Mel Brooks and Quentin Tarantino.

In many of the classic exploitation films, an “everyday” person is thrust into the middle of a crime ring. When their family members and loved ones are killed and the police do nothing, they are forced to take the law into their own hands — thus creating our unsuspecting hero. In many of these films, the “bad guys” run a drug racket (usually heroin), which leads to enlisting the drug addicts into a prostitution ring. I was searching for a drug more comedic than heroin, when I stumbled upon Michael Musto’s column in the Village Voice, which was about the sewage problem in many of the NYC nightclubs due to the new trend of “booty bumps.” I ran with that idea, and suddenly I had a very funny and slightly gross plot on my hands.

We first produced Shit & Champagne as a stage play in New York, where it ran for nine months. It was remounted in San Francisco twice — in 2014 where it was extended three times, and then brought back by popular demand to be the inaugural production for the grand opening of my nightclub, Oasis, in 2015. The San Francisco productions attracted a serious cult following — the self-proclaimed “Shit Heads” who would attend the live performances, dozens of times, leading the audiences in chanting lines and repeating callbacks to the actors in a Rocky Horror fashion. I hope that the film audiences will feel the same.

D’Arcy Drollinger has written, directed, and starred in the original feature film Shit & Champagne as well as the multimedia stage productions of Bitch Slap, Disastrous, The Temple of Poon, Mr. Irresistible, Project: Lohan, Scalpel!, The Possession of Mrs. Jones, Pink Elephants, Above and Beyond the Valley of the Ultra Showgirls, Suburbia 3000, and The Cereal Killers. Other credits include The Producers (first Broadway production) and Hairspray the Musical (first Broadway production). D’Arcy is the owner of Oasis, the premier drag club in the US, voted San Francisco’s best nightclub / cabaret.

D’Arcy continues to produce, adapt, and direct the live drag parodies Sex and the City Live, The Golden Girls: The Christmas Episodes, Star Trek Live, Buffy the Vampire Slayer Live, and Three’s Company Live. D’Arcy is the creator of Sexitude, the body-positive, age-positive, sex-positive dance experience based in San Francisco.

Find out more about SFFILM’s filmmaking grant opportunities at sffilm.org/makers.

SFFILM’s Young Filmmakers Camp 2020: Students and Instructors Reflect on Remote Learning and the Importance of Film Education

Reflections on Teaching the Art & Craft of Film During a Pandemic
by Maddy Leonard with support from Davia Schendel, Rachel Gamson, and Jeanette Paak

When I found out that SFFILM was not going to have Young Filmmakers Camp in person in July of 2020, I knew I still wanted to find a way to serve the young artists in our community in a fun and innovative way. Since teens were going to be forced to spend their summer in isolation, I proposed that we redesign camp to build an online resource and community support system for young filmmakers to gather, learn, grow, and develop stories they care about.

These are the goals I had going into camp:

• Create meaningful relationships that students can draw from in the future — account for one-on-one time with teachers, so that students feel supported and have the opportunity to build a mentor/mentee relationship with their teachers.
• Develop students’ independent filmmaking skills, so that they can emerge from camp as more self-sufficient filmmakers.
• Train skills for online media creation that will help students be creative and innovative filmmakers and use the resources they have at their disposal to create art and film.
• Finish camp having created several small but polished projects that students can add to their portfolios.
• Provide the opportunity for students to learn from a diverse group of filmmakers.
• Create safe spaces where students can ask questions and discover what working in the film industry feels like.
• Introduce students to online and free resources that can be used to experiment with film outside of camp.

With these goals in mind, I began outlining a two-and-a-half-week-long schedule for campers that consisted of Zoom lectures, pre-recorded lessons, Zoom “check-ins, workshops, film screenings, guest presentations, and student activities. I understood that students had been forced to have classes on Zoom since the beginning of the pandemic, and they were probably suffering from Zoom fatigue, so my co-teacher Davia Schendel and I designed a daily curriculum that was diverse in terms of platform. Campers would spend a few hours a day doing solo work, and a few hours a day on Zoom in either large or small groups.

Campers were divided into two groups: beginner and advanced campers. The beginner campers started a few days earlier than the advanced ones, so that they could get oriented in the world of filmmaking by learning some basic terminology and film history. Once the advanced campers started their session, the students spent most of their time collaborating as one large group. Campers were engaged daily in Zoom lectures and supplementary activities on topics around film production, theory, and history, media literacy, and the social and cultural impacts of film. Outside of that work students were doing with their instructors, they also had the opportunity to speak with some pretty incredible guest speakers.

We had the pleasure of having Jonas Rivera, a producer from Pixar who produced Up, Inside Out, and Toy Story 4, as our first guest lecturer. Jonas shared his journey working for Pixar and the behind the scenes making of these beloved films. Jonas’s extensive art knowledge proved to be valuable during the story development process at Pixar, and campers learned much from him about how different aspect of the creative process intersect. He reassured the campers that they could always be part of the filmmaking creative process no matter the level of their technical skills by advising that “understanding art is equal to being an artist.”

Daniel Freeman was our second guest lecturer at camp. Daniel is a SFFILM FilmHouse resident who is currently working on a feature-length narrative film called Teddy Out of Tune. The campers loved chatting with Daniel about his process. He stressed how important it is for filmmaking to be accessible to everyone, and gave the campers excellent advice about how to get started on films with a minimal budget.

We were extremely lucky to have another FilmHouse resident come speak at camp. Reaa Puri, a cinematographer, director, editor, and founder of Breaktide Productions, brought her two other co-founders to camp to speak about their filmmaking careers. Breaktide is a production company that is owned and operated by women of color, and they work to democratize filmmaking while elevating underrepresented voices behind the scenes and in front of the camera. Gabby, an advanced camper, told me her favorite activity at camp was the guest speakers, because “they really offered insight into what it’s like to make films as a career.” She added, “my favorite lecture was from Breaktide Productions, because as a girl it was so inspiring to hear from an all-female team. I learned that film is a process, and about all the steps that are generally taken before and during the movie-making process.”

Anaiis Cisco, a filmmaker from Brooklyn and an Assistant Professor of Moving Image Production at Smith College, spoke with the campers about halfway through camp. At the beginning of her scheduled hour, she took the time to learn every student’s name and hear about their filmmaking interests. This activity not only helped Anaiis get to know the campers, but it also helped the campers get to know each other a little better outside of the normal camp day proceedings. Many of them described how they developed new interests during camp and were excited to dive deeper into these aspects of filmmaking.

The day after Anaiis’s lecture, Andy Jimenez of Pixar Animation Studios spoke with the campers about his collaborations on several films, such as One Man Band and The Incredibles. Incorporating his pre-production documents and animatics for both live action and animation, Andy shared an incredible wealth of materials that the campers were truly fascinated by. Sharing with campers that the road of an creative artist can be winding, Andy reassured them that everything one does in life will become part of their art practice in surprising and very useful ways.

Alice Wu, director of Netflix’s The Half of It, joined us for a very special guest lecture towards the end of camp. She shared some background information about how The Half of It came to be, but focused a lot of her time connecting on a personal level with the campers. She was very honest and vulnerable about the lessons she’s learned throughout her career. She reflected on her experience with us by saying “I really loved getting a chance to chat with the young filmmakers at SFFILM. The way they think about storytelling, about their lives, is so fresh and sophisticated — so much more sophisticated than I was at their age — and I say with pleasure that these kids are almost certainly coming for our jobs! And it’ll be a good thing.”

The last filmmakers to join us as guest lecturers were Anne Flatté and Marlon Johnson. This director/producer duo spoke to the campers about their newest film River City Drumbeat, a documentary about music, love, and legacies set in the American South. They also facilitated a lengthy discussion with campers about the ethics of documentary filmmaking and sparked the curiosity of these young filmmakers.

Our last presenter was SFFILM’s very own Rosa Morales, who works as part of the SFFILM Makers team. Rosa had a wonderful conversation with campers about how to market yourself as an artist and filmmaker, and helped them understand how they can stay involved with SFFILM in the future if they are ever in need of support or funding.

Among my favorite parts of camp were the moments when the campers, other instructors, and I had radically honest conversations about how film and media play into this moment in US history. I was so impressed by the introspective comments students shared about representation in the media they consume, and how they want to make the film industry a more just industry to work in. Here are just a few examples of the insights campers shared while Davia was lecturing about diversity, representation, and allegory:

“There’s a big shift happening in representation in media — we’re not all the way there yet, but let’s not disregard our accomplishments.” — Rose

“She-ra in the new She-Ra and the Princesses of Power was the first lesbian kiss I had ever seen, and the first gay main character. As someone who was obsessed with 80s She-ra as a kid… I was again inspired by her in the new one as a lesbian main character. It really helped me come out to my family.” — Shayla

“The show Sex Education on Netflix… represented women so well and in an accurate way. They represent them with goals other than chasing boys or dating which I thought was important. I really appreciated women being seen as powerful without having to actually be tough.” — Gabby

Here are some other very insightful reflections students had when we were discussing why it’s important to learn the history of race in film:

“I thought that the evolution of black representation in film was interesting… I found that it was important to have diversity in the film industry because it inspires younger girls and people of color and gives role models to them.” — Ella

“I think that diversity in film is extremely important. As children we are very impressionable, and seeing ourselves on screen makes us realize that we can do anything. When movies are more diverse, they are relatable to a broader group of people. It is also important to portray different groups of people in diverse roles so that they aren’t just playing the same types of roles every time. I think that studying film is important, because it is a big part of our society today.” — Grace

“We need to study film to learn about our past just as we study history in schools. It is extremely important to make sure you understand the mistakes of the past so as a nation and society we do not repeat them. But like any part of history we must be careful and think about who is the one creating the film and what biases they might have. In the early years of film, there was not much diversity in the cast and crew, now as we are entering a new era of digital film we are realizing the importance of having diversity in organizations such as Hollywood to inspire different types of people across many generations.” — Lathrop

Over the course of camp, I was really impressed by the vulnerability these teens were willing to share with each other. They really connected as a group, and made plans to stay in touch after camp to support each other’s art. These campers didn’t just learn how to make films but they learned how to support other filmmakers. It was really special to be able to see the constant encouragement they had for each other’s projects, and the friendships that they formed.

Maddy Leonard (she/her) is a filmmaker, artist, and the former Education Program Coordinator at SFFILM. She is a creative educator who has spent half a decade teaching youth about film and media literacy, and mentoring youth as they produce their own films. She has a degree in Cinema and Women and Gender Studies from San Francisco State University, and has a passion for learning from and creating socially aware documentaries and experimental films.

Guest Post: FilmHouse Resident Ed Ntiri on Sound Design, Hip-Hop, and “A Lo-Fi Blues”

“The ear is much more creative than the eye.” 
 — Robert Bresson
 
“Back in the days when I was a teenager,
Before I had status and before I had a pager,
You could find the Abstract listening to hip-hop,
My pops used to say, it reminded him of be-bop,
I said, “Well daddy, don’t you know that things go in cycles?”
— Q-Tip (A Tribe Called Quest)

Sound as Character in “A Lo-Fi Blues”
by Ed Ntiri

When people share their favorite moments from the films they love, they’ll often talk about images. For me, it’s always been sounds. Like in The Battle of Algiers, when the intensifying sound of drumbeats heightens the tension of the three women planting their bombs. Or how Walter Murch used the shrieking sound of a subway car to amplify the infamous restaurant scene in The Godfather where Michael Corleone kills the man who tried to kill his father. Or Robert Bresson’s A Man Escaped, where all I remember from the film is the sound of cups clanking against a hand-rail, amplify the haunting monotony of being trapped in a prison cell.

Each of these moments resonate with me more than images themselves ever have. Films are as much a sonic experience as they are a visual one. That’s why when I began to develop my first film, I focused on sound before script, images, or casting.

Our film, A Lo-Fi Blues, is the story of an aging blues musician who believes that his late wife is trapped inside of a song. The film follows his relationship with a young lo-fi hip-hop producer whose ability to sample music becomes the only thing that can save her.

My fascination with sound started early. I grew up in New York during the golden era of hip-hop music, and its ethos informed nearly every aspect of my personal and professional life. It taught me the importance of voice, how limitations can become strengths, and the value of community. Officially, there are four elements that make up hip-hop culture: the emcee, the DJ, the graffiti artist, and the break-dancer. The one they always forgot, in my opinion, was the producer.

Producing hip-hop music seems simple, but it’s actually a science. The sample-based method involves finding old albums, carefully selecting bits and pieces of them, and creatively processing and re-arranging them into new compositions. Sampling, when done creatively, breathes new life into old songs. So, a tune like Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers’ “A Chant for Bu” becomes A Tribe Called Quest’s “Excursions.” Or, you find a record like Roy Ayers’ “Searching” only to later hear Pete Rock flip it into his bass-heavy interpretation.

Developing the story and the sound of the film began with an exploration into the ways that hip-hop evolved from jazz, which evolved from the blues, which evolved from spirituals, which were the only way slaves could keep their language when they were taken from the shores of West Africa. The frequencies within our music hold this history. As I developed a closer relationship with the records that I would sample, I became fascinated with the idea of music as a language we unconsciously carry.

The SFFILM Makers community has helped tremendously with developing a script to support our sound. As a musician, I treat each version of the script as a remix, which we continue to evolve until the tone sounds right. Embedded within the script is the music that we’ve developed with our music supervisor, Jason “Asonic” Garcia, and SmartBomb, a collective of lo-fi musicians here in Oakland.

The majority of the characters in our film are already musicians, so part of our process has been how to create a distinct sound for each of them. We started by writing music profiles for each character, including their favorite albums, mixtapes they’ve made for friends, and a list of three albums each of them would bring if they were stranded on a deserted island.

A film I thought of a lot while having these discussions is another film shot in the Bay Area, American Graffiti. What I love about this early George Lucas film is that every character is listening to the same radio station throughout the night, turning music (in his case, early Rock ‘n Roll) into a character of its own.

In A Lo-Fi Blues, we’ve taken a similar approach. We created our own fictitious podcast that everyone in our film listens to on various devices. Unlike American Graffiti, which was made when licensing songs was much cheaper, we are not licensing anything. We decided that since we’re all musicians anyway, that we’ll create our own score.

Using our connections to the music community in Oakland, we began composing all of the original jazz, soul, and blues music that you’ll hear throughout the film. For example, when we introduce Leonard, we’ll hear this record. We’re also composing the beats that the young producers make from samples of the songs made for the film. When we’re in the studio with one of the younger beatmakers, you’ll hear one of their actual beats playing. The idea is that even if you choose to watch our film with your eyes closed, you would hear sounds progress, distort, and transform, which embodies our theme of letting go and embracing new life.

The camera is a tool of magnification. A wide shot establishes a scene. A close-up makes you feel closer to what a person is thinking. A handheld shot can give an impression of chaos or uncertainty. Sound achieves the same. The amplification of inaudible sounds is the magic of sound design. The creative manipulation of sound can be as impactful as a great line of dialogue, or a beautifully composed image. We should employ this magic and give our ears a treat so that they can go on adventures as rich as those designed for the eye.

Images dominate our consciousness. We intake more images today than at any other time in history. When you sit down and watch a film, the experience is made up of the juxtaposition of both images and sound. To study their craft, some cinematographers will watch a film on mute, in order to isolate the image. To study my craft, I often close my eyes when a film is on, to see how the story plays out in sound.

In an interview in Robert Bresson’s book Bresson on Bresson, he explains that if you can replace an image with a sound, always use the sound. Because the ear is more creative than the eye. As storytellers, it’s our job to invoke all of the senses in order to give viewers an emotional experience that they’ll always remember, in more ways than one.

Ed Ntiri is a writer, photographer, and filmmaker who has been based in the Bay Area since 2007. His work has been featured in Vice, WaxPoetics, the Oakland Museum, and the Berkeley Art Museum. In 2017, Ntiri wrote and directed his first short film, Snow Mountain, which won audience choice awards at the SF Urban and Liberated Lens film festivals. His first feature, A Lo-Fi Blues, was awarded a SFFILM Rainin Grant for screenwriting in 2019. He is currently completing a SFFILM FilmHouse Residency in 2020.

For more information about SFFILM’s artist development programs, visit sffilm.org/makers.