With the massacre that took place/ is taking place in Rafah last weekend, I think this has been one of the most devastating weeks that we all have witnessed. I know I personally feel at a loss, and just how deeply I see humanity at a crisis right now—how something like this can happen and people can either still justify it or are still afraid to speak.
Like many of us, I know I’m angry. I know I’m devastated. I know I can’t look at any of the photos, illustrations or videos that are coming out of Rafah at this moment. I know I oscillate between feeling completely numb and then overwhelmed with grief.
It feels hard to protect anything tender in this world. Even for a moment.
I don’t feel that I have anything cohesive to say about the situation.
I wish everyone slowness, gentleness and ease as they move forward.
I pray for the people of Palestine, and for their liberation.
I pray for the people of Sudan, of the Congo, of Haiti, of Tigray, of Kashmir, and of all indigenous and oppressed people in the world. May we answer all the calls of justice. May we see our freedom is in each other.
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Last week, we released RETRIEVAL into the world (yaaay!!!). I threw a very small gathering at my house where we watched the film and talked about the process behind it. It was really lovely, and a beautiful touchpoint to just really be vulnerable about the film and have a soft container of landing.
One of the things that I spoke about was how during Retrieval I was able to embody a femme directorial ethic. So many times, sets revert to patriarchal norms of dominance over everything—of yelling, of romanticization of a director ‘exerting’ and ‘fighting for’ their vision, of one person instilling their will over everyone else, of controlling how every little thing is going to go and having meltdowns when it doesn’t go that way. To me, there’s a very deep link between patriarchy and colonization—the idea of dominance over something than slowing down, listening, and working with something. This kind of leadership style is really reinforced over and over in many Hollywood structures—if you aren’t demanding people think less of you, if you aren’t a certain kind of assertive people doubt your vision, and sometimes if you don’t act like a bit of a diva and a menace people lose respect for you. It’s very clear—if you aren’t seen as embodying the tenants of patriarchy, you are seen as weak.
How ass backwards lol.
We know this, because we see it: this glorification of patriarchy leads to abuse and control, it leads to toxic situations and structures, it leads to an immeasurable amount of healing work for everyone involved after.
In my ever-evolving style as a director, I’ve noticed how discrepant leading a set with these values felt to me. When I first started out directing I was often told that this was the way to lead—to embody a kind of dominance that felt performative, to constantly assert myself over everything else.
In truth, the way that I prefer to collaborate is through gentleness, through listening, and through respecting the divine creativity that flows in everything and everyone, and moving in a way that honors the brilliance that everyone on the team is bringing. That doesn’t mean that one can’t also be firm or clear, but that there is way of approaching that firmness through a different way than a kind of colonial patriarchal view.
In even thinking about the themes and subject matters of Retrieval, I was also thinking through how to direct in a way that embodied a more femme ethic—an ethic of collaboration, an ethic of care, of understanding, and a working with instead of a working against. An ethic that allowed for what could be possible in a moment, rather than one that promoted dominance and control. An ethic that could promote care and gentleness, rather than rigidity and hardness.
I know on set sometimes I was truly able to embody this, and sometimes I defaulted to the patriarchy that exists in the water around us and in us. In my assessment, I’d give myself a 70% femme ethic and a 25% masculine / patriarchal dominance, and a 5% confusion/ what the fuck is going on lmao. Which, feels pretty good to me.
One of the other questions that came up during the screening was my friend and fellow filmmaker Sherif, saying that directing is a series of miracles, and asking what moments felt miraculous to me on set.
One of the things that did was definitely the horse scene—working with a live animal on set is no joke, and having to do that scene and direct but not be able to see or have moments of rest between takes was very hard (once I was on the horse, I was on the horse). In the beginning of the day I was really struggling to ride the horse through the water, but I also knew that however deep I could go with the horse into the water was integral to how the film would look. So, there was a moment where it just clicked for me and I just knew that I had to figure it out, and suddenly I was going into the water with the horse, full-speed, as far as I could go.
The other moment was that the sexual assault scene was very difficult. Given the time perimeters of that scene and what was going on, it required a tremendous amount of bravery—I was going back and forth between directing and acting in a very traumatic scene, where I was very vulnerable (and naked!!), in front of my crew, in a way that was deeply unsexy. It was very wild to be acting in that scene, naked, vulnerable and empty, and then instantly have to switch up and be in directorial mode (ie, strength) as we made adjustments. But the oscillation between that was very miraculous, and also taught me a lot about my own power.
I’ll just finish this off by saying thank you for watching and being present with this film and my journey. I love you all.