Ryan Rojas

Ben Tan and Alexis Felix Capture Raw Emotions of Teenage Life

Congratulations to you, Ben, on your short film, DOG, which tells the story of a 19-year-old girl taking her blind younger sister to a rave, only for chaos to ensue. In your director's statement, you say how you spent your adolescent years in Los Angeles, “Chasing moments of ecstasy. Arriving at despair.” What inspired you to tell this story?

Ben Tan: I wanted to capture my anxieties growing up and confronting adulthood. The LA rave scene exposes you to new things that might be dangerous, but as a teenager, I was always drawn to danger because it was rebellious and offered an escape from normalcy.

But the dread starts to creep back in when you’re back home lying in bed. Parents never fully know what’s going on in their kids' lives, and the secrets we keep are painful.

Ben, what was your creative process for writing the script and the character of Summer? When did you first meet Alexis and know she was the one for the role?

BT: Alexis and I met in high school. A single mother raised her, and she has a sister. We both shared a love for electronic music and had rebellious childhoods.

When I started writing, I made location and casting decisions early because I knew that if Alexis played Summer, I could cast her real mom and shoot at her childhood home. This made writing natural because I wrote with actors and locations in mind.

Alexis, what were your first thoughts while reading the part of Summer in the script? What was the most alluring part of the character, and what were you most excited to bring to the performance?

Alexis Felix: I knew Ben was in the works of writing this script, and initially, it was a story with two brothers. One day, he came home from work, told me he changed some things, and asked if I wanted to read it. My face lit up when I started reading the script about two sisters. I immediately knew I could play Summer. The character resonated with me a lot because I had grown up as a younger sister with a single mom in my own life.

I always wondered what being our family's older sister would be like, which allowed me to explore that. Summer’s mom in DOG is my mom in real life. I was so excited to share the movie-making magic with her and show her all the hard work I had been doing behind the scenes. 

Ben, the film looks beautiful and distinct, with its black-and-white photography and 4:3 aspect ratio. How did you decide upon this look for this story?

BT: I chose a narrow aspect ratio to emphasize teenagers' claustrophobia when surrounded by family and friends but needing an escape. Black and white was an aesthetic that had character motivation. Lex is blind, so she’s missing a sense. Stripping away the color helps the audience see through her perspective. It also adds to the theme of growing up and the dark cloud of angst that looms over our heads.

Alexis, can you talk about your creative process with Ben on set? What challenges did you face in this rave-set film?

AF: Ben and I have very similar tastes, so working with him creatively was fun. I loved that he gave all the actors on the set free range to be themselves and creatively mold the characters as they imagined them to be. He’s the writer and director of the project; however, he was interested in seeing how we all perceived the characters that he wrote.

As for challenges, I think everything ran very smoothly. Because we were on a time crunch, we only had 2-3 takes per scene, so we all had to be on our game.

Ben, can you share any challenges you faced during production, especially when shooting in a rave environment?

BT: We filmed the rave throughout an overnight shoot. A dozen or more friends donated their time to be background actors. We weren’t supposed to have fog at the location, but the lasers and strobes didn’t pick up in the camera without it. We ended up triggering the fire alarm three times. The third time, a squad of firefighters came to set, and they told us that if the alarm were triggered again, they’d shut our production down.

Luckily, the fog stayed in place, and we could finish those scenes. There was a moment in the night when I thought it was over and we’d have to scrap everything. Without the rave scenes, there would be no film.

How do you think the film speaks to the universal experience of growing up and the struggles that come with it?

BT: DOG is set in a specific time and place. Growing up, I watched films like Larry Clark’s Kids or Catherine Hardwicke’s Thirteen. Both of these films highlight a particular subculture, making them believable.

They’re time capsules, and those films make me feel understood. No matter where you are in the world, the struggles of a teenager are universal.

AF: Morality plays a huge part in becoming an adult. As a teenager, you constantly make decisions and choose right from wrong. Whether dealing with peer pressure, navigating the people you choose to hang out with, or the situations they can put you in. As much as our parents try to teach us right from wrong, teenagers must go through life experiences to determine the consequences for themselves.

It’s like when you were a toddler, and your mom tells you not to touch the fire because it’s hot, but you do it anyway. We instinctively need to experience something to learn. I think this film does an excellent job of exploring that.

What are your hopes for DOG's future and how it might impact discussions around youth culture and coming of age?

BT: I’m always interested in coming-of-age stories that are specific and illuminate the subcultures we cultivate as teenagers. I’d love to see more of that.

AF: I hope people can see DOG and that it sparks a discussion of morality and the decisions we make as teenagers. 

by Ryan Rojas

Muneeb Hassan Shines A Light On Closeted Love

Many people view being closeted as entirely negative. Still, filmmaker Muneeb Hassan sees it in a different light—one that is often shaped by the relationships and cultural expectations of others. In his new short film All the Men I Met But Never Dated, Hassan explores how the decision to remain closeted can express love, particularly toward more traditional family or community values. "I wanted to capture the nuance that, for many, the closet can serve as a safe space rather than just a place of oppression—a perspective often overlooked in the Western world."

Read on to learn how Hassan brought this delicate subject to life, from portraying complex emotions to casting his two lead actors. He also discusses the unique challenges of being an independent filmmaker and what he hopes viewers take away from the film. "I hope viewers leave with a deeper empathy for those navigating similar paths and a greater appreciation for the courage it takes to honor oneself, even when doing so requires balancing cultural expectations."

Follow All the Men I Met But Never Dated on Instagram for more updates.

All the Men I Met But Never Dated is inspired by the unspoken experiences of closeted Gay Muslims. What motivated you to pursue this story, and how did you envision bringing it to life on screen?

Muneeb Hassan: The motivation for this story came from the need to shed light on a reality that is often hidden and misunderstood—the unspoken experiences of closeted gay Muslims who navigate the complexities of identity, faith, and family expectations. I wanted to capture the nuance that, for many, the closet can be a safe space rather than purely a place of oppression, a perspective often overlooked in the Western world. For many men, Muslim or not, the closet represents a complex balance of identity and safety.

Interestingly, after a screening, some audience members from Fort Worth, Texas—even self-identified cowboys—shared that they saw themselves in this story and felt validated by its message. Hearing that it’s okay to date someone in the closet and that this experience can be relatable across diverse backgrounds reinforced my vision. I aimed to bring this story to life with subtle, intimate visuals and restrained dialogue, capturing these journeys' vulnerability, resilience, and quiet strength.

Your film explores the complexities of love, identity, and familial duty. How did you balance these themes while developing the script?

MH: Balancing these themes was essential because they’re deeply intertwined for many people, especially those who feel divided between personal identity and family expectations. David Stokes, my co-writer, and I wanted to show that love, identity, and duty aren’t mutually exclusive but parts of a complex reality for someone like Ali. We worked to weave them naturally into Ali’s story so his decisions and conflicts would feel genuine and universally relatable, even if the specifics are unique to his experience.

David Stokes: Muneeb wrote the first draft, and I took over the writing from that point and did all of the subsequent drafts. As the story was pretty much there, my job was to rewrite Muneeb's script to make it flow better, rewrite all of the dialogue so that it felt more realistic and authentic to the characters as well as some narrative changes that sped up the script and made sure that we always got to the heart of the scene and the emotions the characters were trying to convey.

Dialogue plays a significant role in your film. How did you approach writing those conversations to convey the characters' emotions?

MH: Dialogue is powerful, especially when exploring things that are left unsaid. For Ali and Oliver, we wanted conversations that were raw and honest but also reflective of the hesitation and fear that comes with vulnerability. I approached the dialogue by focusing on subtext—sometimes, it’s what the characters avoid saying that reveals the most about their emotions. Writing these moments was about balancing tension and intimacy to bring the audience closer to their inner worlds.

What challenges did you face in portraying Ali's internal struggles, especially regarding his decision to stay in the closet?

MH: Portraying Ali’s internal conflict was challenging because it’s a silent struggle that many people, especially from conservative backgrounds, can relate to but rarely express openly. It was about capturing his moments of isolation, self-doubt, and reflection without making them feel overly dramatic.

We relied on small visual cues and body language to communicate his tension, and I worked closely with Ahmed to capture the weight of these unspoken battles in his performance. Ahmed also brought his struggle into the character as a journalist and actor; he spoke not about his struggles but represented every single gay Muslim who prefers to live in a closet. 

What qualities did you look for in Ahmed Shihab-Eldin and Jared P-Smith, the actors who portray Ali and Oliver, and how did you find the right fit for their roles?

MH: I was looking for actors who could embody the emotional complexity of their roles with authenticity. Ahmed’s real-life experiences and empathy made him a perfect fit for Ali; he understood the character’s depth and struggle.

With Jared, I needed someone who could bring warmth and openness to the role of Oliver—a character who contrasts with Ali’s guarded nature. The chemistry between Ahmed and Jared was essential, and their dynamic truly brought the relationship to life.

Can you talk about working with Cinematographer Nicholas Pietroniro on the visual style you wanted to evoke? And what did your editor, Wyatt Smith provide?

MH: Nicholas and I wanted to create a visual style that reflected Ali’s internal state—soft, intimate, and sometimes isolated. We used muted tones and close framing to evoke a sense of closeness and introspection.

Wyatt Smith, ACE, our editor, brought an incredible sensitivity to the project. His precision in pacing and transitions helped amplify the emotional undercurrents without overstating them. He understood the rhythm needed to convey Ali’s journey subtly but powerfully.

As an indie filmmaker, what unique challenges did you encounter during production, and how did you navigate them?

MH: Indie filmmaking is always a balancing act between vision and resources, and with our modest budget, every decision had to be incredibly intentional. We had only 1.5 days to shoot—one day in Cold Spring and half a day in New York City—so time constraints were a significant challenge.

We focused on meticulous pre-planning to make the most of every moment on set. I had a shortlist and storyboards ready. The passion and commitment of our cast and crew were essential; everyone was fully invested in telling this story, and that collective dedication allowed us to overcome our limitations.

How has this film influenced your perspective on your own identity and the stories you want to tell in the future?

MH: Creating this film has been an incredibly profound journey that’s challenged and reshaped my understanding of my identity. In exploring Ali’s character, I reflected deeply on my experiences, the intricacies of cultural expectations, and what it means to navigate the space between personal truth and family loyalty.

It’s awakened a stronger desire in me to tell stories that don’t just entertain but also illuminate the unseen struggles and resilience within underrepresented communities. I’m more driven than ever to bring forth narratives that honor the complexities of identity, belonging, and strength—stories that break down stereotypes and give voice to often overlooked experiences.

What do you want the audience to take away from Ali’s journey and his choices regarding his relationship with Oliver?

MH: I want the audience to understand that Ali’s challenging choices are rooted in love and a deep sense of duty. His story isn’t one of rejection or shame but rather a complex balance between personal happiness and familial loyalty, a theme that resonates across cultures.

I hope viewers leave with a deeper empathy for those navigating similar paths and an appreciation for the courage it takes to honor oneself, even when it means balancing cultural expectations. Ali’s journey shows that self-acceptance and family loyalty don’t have to be mutually exclusive—they are intertwined in ways that deserve compassion and respect.

by Ryan Rojas

Victor Fraga Busts The Myth of Balance In Media

In this exclusive interview, Fraga—also the founder of indie film publication Dirty Movies—shares insights into his new project, which collaborates with social realist filmmaker Ken Loach and former Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn. He also delves into his unyielding commitment to challenging the myth of "balance" in the British media. "It’s tragic," he asserts, "that the same shocking manipulation and censorship tactics I witnessed in Brazil are now rampant in the UK, the US, and other so-called 'developed' nations. Perhaps we're not as developed as we like to think."

It’s a pleasure to meet you, Victor! What inspired you to create The Bad Patriots, and what personal connections do you have to its topics?

Victor Fraga: I had previously made a film about media manipulation and censorship in Brazil, my birth nation. It was called The Coup d’Etat Factory. So, this topic has been close to my heart for a long time. After my film was finished, I realized that—contrary to belief—the UK is not quite a role model of media balance and democracy. The manipulation techniques are far more sophisticated here.

I first met Jeremy in 2016, when he was the Leader of the Labour Party, and I was campaigning against the coup that removed President Dilma Rousseff in Brazil. Jeremy has a close and personal association with Latin America, consistently visiting the continent and campaigning for international solidarity. His wife Laura is Mexican. He identified himself with my film so much that we did four or five panels together and became very close. I interviewed Ken three times in the past, and he, too, knew my work. So Jeremy and I insisted that he join the untitled The Bad Patriots.

You’ve mentioned witnessing the collapse of democracy in Brazil and the mainstream media's role in that process. How has this experience shaped your understanding of media's influence in the UK, particularly regarding figures like Ken Loach and Jeremy Corbyn?

VF: I have left Brazil, yet Brazil has never left me. I feel a duty towards both countries, where I was born and raised, and where I have resided for roughly a quarter of a century. These two films resulted from my activist and artistic commitment to both nations.

My experience with both countries is constant; one does not come after the other. I am intimately and consistently connected with both. I think I’m well-informed and have connections to influential personalities on both sides of the Atlantic, so I can comment on and compare the two countries.  

Your films often explore themes of character assassination and censorship. How do you think the narratives around Loach and Corbyn serve as a microcosm of broader societal issues regarding free speech and dissent?

VF: Loach and Corbyn are much more vulnerable than the average citizen because they are well-known. Corbyn points out in the film that it’s much easier to attack individuals than ideas. The average British person might suffer micro gestures of censorship or perhaps even lose their job due to their political inclinations (in more extreme cases).

Very few people are subject to character assassination, defamation, and lawfare to the same extent as Ken and Jeremy, particularly the latter. The attacks are so fierce that despite being such outspoken and courageous people, they, too, have to self-censor on occasion. Freedom of speech is but an illusion. 

Can you explain the central thesis of the documentary? What myths are you aiming to bust?

VF: The film's central thesis is that the British media are highly biased and hostile to voices vaguely critical of capitalism and the establishment. The UK is a very conservative country. I’m a pacifist, and I’m not a Marxist. Yet my political views and those of Corbyn and Loach are often viewed as “extremist.” 

I set out to bust the myth of media balance in the British media, the facile pseudo-patriotism disseminated by the British establishment (including Keir Starmer’s rotten Labour Party), and the weaponization of antisemitism, among others.

How did you approach the research for this film, particularly in gathering diverse perspectives on Ken Loach and Jeremy Corbyn?

VF: Ken, Jeremy, and I met a few weeks before the shooting (which was done in a single day), and I asked them to collate anecdotes of media bias and censorship to which they were subjected. I researched newspaper articles that demeaned and insulted Ken and Jeremy - which wasn’t a particularly difficult job. There’s so much hate against these guys out there.

Finally, I was familiar with Ken’s filmography, which helped me structure the movie with his clips. It was a relatively simple process, a straightforward project. I would call it politically audacious yet aesthetically unpretentious (I’m not embarrassed by my microbudget and by exposing the informality of the movie, such as the failing microphone, which I intentionally chose to leave in the film).

What were some of the biggest challenges you faced while filming, especially regarding accessing sources or differing viewpoints?

VF: There were no significant issues. We are super grateful to our friends at Sands Studios, who provided their incredible facilities in kind. Christine Edzard and Olivier Stockman are committed to activist cinema—films that make a difference. Ken and Jeremy, too, were super open and relaxed.

Were there any surprising revelations or moments during the production that changed your perspective on the subjects?

VF: The most significant change came during post-production, on October 7th, when Hamas attacked, and Israel retaliated with the most shocking genocide in modern history. We recorded the film a few months before, and the topic was already present. I decided to make it much more prominent and close the movie with a pertinent reflection.

There were no major surprises during the filming. Instead, some of the anecdotes are hilarious in their absurdity, such as comparing The Wind That Shakes the Barley to Mein Kampf and Jeremt Corbyn riding a Mao Zedong bike. 

Are there any particular moments in the documentary that resonate most strongly with the audience? Why?

VF: Hopefully, the part on Britain’s inability to self-reflect and recognize its past atrocities (the British Empire). The tub-thumping patriotism that our media disseminates is perhaps the most significant root cause for the defamation of progressive voices. Those who dare to challenge the establishment and refuse jingoism are not traitors. Quite the opposite: they are the ones who care about the average citizen. Hence, the ironic film title.

What are your plans after this project? Are there other topics or themes you’re interested in exploring next?

VF: I am currently a producer on a much larger project for a well-known filmmaker, a close friend of mine. Fingers crossed that comes to fruition. And I’m working on the third movie in the Dirty Media trilogy (the first two being The Coup d’Etat Factory and The Bad Patriots).

It features a very outspoken and energized Noam Chomsky in his penultimate interview before health issues prevented him from talking and writing. Maybe I will call it The Bad Jew.

by Ryan Rojas

Amanda Deering Jones and Kitty Edwinson Treat Addiction With Compassion

It’s a pleasure to meet you both, Amanda and Kitty! I’d love to hear how you first became involved with your new short film, Little Mother Lies. Kitty, being the screenwriter, when did this story’s idea first come to you? Amanda, when did you become involved with this project as the director?

Kitty Edwinson: Hi Ryan, it’s a pleasure to meet you! The idea for this short came from the feature on which it's based, Mother Lies. I found a letter my grandmother had written in 1955 to her sister’s psychiatrist describing what the sisters endured as children when they fled Russia during the 1917 Revolution. My mother did not know this story. I showed the letter to my sister and said, "There’s a movie in here."

Amanda Deering Jones: Thank you for talking with us! As a producer, I have been with the feature since 2020. However, at the end of 2022, we discussed creating a short as a proof-of-concept. At the same time, I had personal revelations about wanting to enter the directing seat in my career. The stars aligned, and I was able to dive in with this short.

What were each of you most excited to bring to the screen, and how did you approach these sensitive subjects?

KE: This story gave me a chance to portray the fallout of a horrific choice parents of addicted children often face and then play with what might happen if the son, in this case, caught even a tiny inkling of what that fallout was, how it was shaping the decision he’s making in this very moment.

We approached this by gradually revealing the extremity of the situation to the audience and then having the son and audience learn what the choice was at the same time. This way, the audience’s reaction would be compounded by caring how the son responds.

ADJ: Two things excited me from the feature that Kitty crafted. I wanted the world to meet these complex sisters. I always thought their dynamic was fascinating as well as deeply relatable. And I wanted to show a mother willing to face her darkest fears to save her son. Much thought and care was put into the story around what we wanted to highlight, poke at, and elevate in the world of addiction.

The same goes for the pitch material when we approached investors. Kitty did a beautiful job sculpting the dialogue around what was said and what wasn’t said. We only moved forward once we all felt the script was truly ready.

Kitty, what did you want to highlight when writing the roles of sisters Dorie, Marinka, and her son? 

KE: I wanted Dorie to embody the fear, worry, and exhaustion of a parent in this situation, layered over with tension and ambivalence around being with her sister. Pascale Roger-McKeever did this brilliantly. I wanted Marinka, her sister, to be this mesmerizing force of nature who embodies the allure of the family’s particular approach to life while also dramatizing the destructive core of that same approach–Emilie Talbot did this brilliantly.

I wrote the son to be in the throes of heroin withdrawals, a state he’s familiar with while being in a situation that is literally foreign, suffering in this weird room. Elliott Thomas West perfectly captured the son’s curiosity, rising and falling with the waves of sickness and his primal need to escape while also being a beloved son who has not been lost.

Amanda, what was your process for casting these characters? Did you have specific actors in mind?

ADJ: We had actors in mind for the feature, but the short was a different beast. We brought on a brilliant local SF Bay Area casting director, Kim Donovan, and decided to look for local actors first. We lucked out for both of the sisters. Pascale Roger-McKeever and Emilie Talbot sparked us immediately. Elliott West from LA also quickly rose to the top as a standout.

Amanda, how did you approach directing actors in such emotionally charged scenes?

ADJ: Time is often more squeezed with a short, but I met with each of them individually because I wanted us to get to know each other as people first. I wanted to hear more about their process and how their brains work. This was supremely valuable going into the shoot.

I knew these would be tough roles, but I wanted them to feel they could lean on me for emotional support and to feel safe throughout the entire process. This preparation served us all as we navigated the hardest scenes, and in the end, they blew me away.

What were some of your biggest challenges in making Little Mother Lies as an indie film?

KE: My confidence flagged sometimes. On days when we hit some bump, I’d feel certain that the project would never come together, much less be superb. I had to work on restoring my faith. I was also worried about funding, which came together after all, but boy, that was a nail-biter.

ADJ: Kitty said it: Fundraising is high on that list. We approached investors and utilized crowd-funding. The great news is we got there, but it was a lot of work and a rollercoaster. Looking back, I realize that so much felt deeply hard while we were in it. Still, I am also blown away at the number of things that fell into place to support this project, particularly the incredibly talented people we pulled together.

Can you discuss your collaboration with the crew and how you brought everyone’s ideas together to shape the final product?

KE: We have been a tight bunch since the idea's inception for a short. We gradually honed our goals over the time the script was finalized so that by the time we had to shoot, Amanda could be the shepherd, as she says, and everything zipped together. The communicativeness and focus with the crew were a delight to experience.

ADJ: I care deeply about each person feeling they can contribute. You do this by declaring it from the start with your team and how you respond when they offer a thought or note. You will not take every idea, but if you’ve done your homework as a director, you will know what to take and what not to take. When I didn’t take a note, I at least acknowledged it and often explained my reasoning. Yes, this can be more work, but it creates a dialogue and builds trust. If we had not set this tone intentionally, we would have missed out on gold, and the short would have suffered.

Amanda, did you employ specific filming techniques or styles that were particularly effective for this story?

ADJ: In my research, I found an image from another film that I knew was the exact tone I was aiming for, and it became my guiding light. It utilized an anamorphic lens, and that cinematic feel was vital to convey a bit of mystery, a deep focus on the subjects, exposing their vulnerability, with a touch of absurdity and chaos at times.

Then, lighting was essential to bringing in all the conflicting tones; a warm background meant to tell us that there was love amongst the chaos, but blue lighting reflected the current state of the relationships. The opening scene has the sisters mostly isolated in shots, demonstrating how disconnected they are, but with a few wide two-shots for moments of connection. We were fortunate to utilize 2 Alexa Mini cameras for those isolated shots, allowing seamless filming where we could capture full performances with fewer takes.

What do you hope audiences take away from Little Mother Lies? Have you received any feedback that particularly resonated with you?

KE: People in recovery are all around us, and people struggling with addicted loved ones or addiction themselves are, too. Before we began shooting, crew members conveyed to me how important it was to them that this story be told. It has already generated critical conversations. This means everything to me. 

I want the audience to come away with a deepened understanding of what being in this situation might be like from each perspective: parent, sibling, addicted loved one. I want them to soften or suspend judgment. If they do know something about addiction, I want them to gain the courage to have a different kind of conversation with people who matter to them (including themselves).

ADJ: Most feedback has been powerful and moving because it resonates. Like Kitty said, it’s sparked meaningful conversations at times. Each person's interpretation of the ending is unique, but they’ve certainly felt its weight with each viewing. I hope it creates more understanding for families struggling with addiction. If just one person walks away with a perspective shift on their situation, we will have won.

Do you have plans for future projects after Little Mother Lies? Will they explore similar themes or different ones?

KE: The feature Mother Lies is about the sisters within the richly textured, disappearing community of descendants of Russian exiles in San Francisco. Addiction is just one thread weaving throughout. So we want this film made. I am completing another screenplay set in San Francisco in 1976, based on the true adventures of a rock-concert-crazed teen at the Cow Palace.

by Ryan Rojas

Michael Husain Fights For ABA Basketball Players' Rights

Basketball fans often view the NBA as the sole professional basketball league. However, to do so overlooks the significant contributions of the American Basketball Association that preceded it. The ABA introduced groundbreaking elements such as the three-point line and the slam dunk competition and entertainment features like player fashion, sneakers, halftime shows, and cheerleaders—elements we often take for granted today. The ABA enriched the game and laid the groundwork for the modern NBA, making basketball more enjoyable and dynamic.

Michael Husain: The Waiting Game initially arose from being a sports fan and learning a story I had no idea about. But quickly, it became bigger than sports—about injustice and wrong that must be exposed and corrected.

The guys who played in the old ABA innovated the modern game of basketball, which is now worth billions. How could anyone see them struggling now as older men and not want to help? That was the question that kept coming back to me.

Can you walk us through your research process for this documentary? What challenges did you face in uncovering the ABA's legal history?

MH: There were several key research threads. First, I needed to understand the impact of the ABA on basketball. Terry Pluto’s book Loose Balls is the go-to on that material and other books on the ABA. Next, I needed to understand the deal that went so badly – often called “The Merger” – that it left former players unable to care for themselves in their later years. It happened in 1976, and all those documents were in the possession of Scott Tarter, the lawyer in the film who co-founded The Dropping Dimes Foundation, which was set up to assist struggling ABA players.

Then, I needed to understand the social/cultural impact. The ABA was created in 1967, during the apex of the civil rights movement in America. In some ways, it reflected the changes that were afoot in society. Black cultural influences in the modern NBA are plain to see and celebrated. Much of that came from the ABA, and renowned sports sociologist Dr. Harry Edwards helped me understand it.

You mention the ABA's significant innovations, like the three-point shot and the slam dunk competition. How do you think these contributions are perceived today, especially by newer generations of basketball fans?

MH: I think they are no longer seen as innovations; they are seen as “basketball." That’s the game we all love these days, myself included. So part of the challenge in storytelling was to unfold the story for fans, say, 55 and above, who might recall the ABA, and those under that age who may have no idea it existed.

And, yes, remind them that the ABA innovated many aspects – including entertainment features like player fashion, sneakers, halftime shows, cheerleaders, and more – that we take for granted. The ABA created massive value for the modern NBA and simply made the game a lot more fun.

Who were some of the most impactful people you encountered while making this film?

MH: I appreciated the contributions of legends like Dr. J, Julius Erving, Bob Costas, and others, and they were great interviews. Dr. Harry Edwards, who was active in the civil rights era, invented sports sociology as an academic discipline, is just generally brilliant, and was very impactful in framing the story more widely than basketball.

James Jones and Ralph Simpson, who were extraordinarily gifted as ABA players and now struggle because of how this deal was structured, greatly impacted me. Their strength and honesty in discussing their situations/frustrations hit everyone on the team pretty hard.

Were there any particularly memorable interviews or moments you had while shooting?

MH: Oh yes. We traveled to San Jose State University to interview Dr. Harry Edwards. It was an important shoot for us. We booked a room in their beautiful library, set up for a couple of hours, and were ready to go. Ten minutes before Harry arrives, an announcement comes over an intercom to evacuate immediately. There is an active shooter situation in the building!

We exited to SWAT teams and other law enforcement streaming into the building while I was frantically trying to reach Dr. Edwards to tell him to stay away. We left all our gear in the room. It was very, very stressful. Thankfully, the situation was resolved several hours later, and no one was harmed. We were able to return the next day -  all the gear was there and untouched, and Dr. Edwards was a phenomenal interview.

What was the most challenging aspect of bringing this documentary to life, both creatively and logistically?

MH: Our approach involves a very layered story. Therefore, we needed to ensure the audience got enough information and/or emotional impact from each layer we revealed.

While more challenging from a story perspective, I hope the payoff in the last third of the film – which becomes more verité in style as the tiny not-for-profit takes on the Goliath of the NBA – is more rewarding because of the approach.

Why do you believe the story of the ABA's players is important to the history of basketball and sports?

MH: It is important to sports history because the story of the innovations of the ABA is being lost. Having a heart-wrenching set of circumstances allows us to remind people of just how incredible the ABA was. That was very important in why I pursued this.

In what ways do you think this documentary might influence ongoing discussions about athlete rights and corporate responsibility in sports? What do you hope your documentary will achieve regarding advocacy for these individuals?

MH: From a narrow NBA / NBA players union perspective, I hope it reveals to them that some were left out and still need help. It would be a relatively meager sum to the powerful but life-changing to the guys left out or the widows who saw no benefits.

From a broader perspective, I hope it reminds corporate leadership of the terrible consequences when basic humanity isn’t present in the boardroom. Actuaries, accountants, and lawyers are smart and must be informed in decision-making. But if they are not tempered by someone advocating for “golden rule” decency in corporate behavior, what happened to the ABA guys seems to be the result. Real people get hurt.

What message or feeling do you hope audiences take away from The Waiting Game?

MH: I hope they understand these men's immense impact on what has become a multi-billion dollar sports/entertainment juggernaut. Also, the recognition that there is a social justice aspect to how they were treated should not be ignored. Lastly, I hope audiences feel some outrage. As well as a desire to put some pressure on the powers that be to fix a very fixable situation.

Are there any other subjects or issues you’re passionate about that you’re considering for your next documentary?

MH: I’m a big fan of redemption stories. And I’m following a story of a prison re-entry program. In its pilot, it started to empty the lock-up where it was being used. People were getting out of jail and staying out, charting their redemptions. That documentary should be complete in 2025.

by Ryan Rojas

Francisco Ordonez Explores Cosmic Karma Through Film Noir

The karmic relationship we have with the universe interests filmmaker Francisco Ordonez. With his new noir film, The Low End Theory (co-written by the film's lead, Sofia Yepes), Francisco found a way to explore this universal idea through genre filmmaking. "Mainly, I was interested in exploring the question of whether there is such a thing as a cosmic order—whether you call it God or karma. I really wanted to bring the latent mysticism or spirituality of film noir to the surface, to the text level."

READ MORE: ‘The Low End Theory’ Review: A Neo-Noir Set in LA’s Music Scene

In our exclusive interview, Francisco discusses how his Catholic upbringing informed his making movies "about" religion, his film's representation of LGBTQ+ and Latinx voices, and his Scorsese-an style to capture a new type of spiritual film noir.  

Cinemacy: It's a pleasure to meet you, Francisco! You've stated that the idea for The Low End Theory came to you when your co-writer, Sofia Yepes, brought you a personal story of hers, told as a film noir. What idea did she initially share with you, and what resonated with you enough to want to make it a feature film? 

Francisco Ordonez: I’ll have to leave it to Sofia to decide how much detail she is willing to share, but I can tell you that it was the type of story that just makes you think: Wow. There are some really wild and manipulative people out there! And it’s just baffling what willing participants we can be when we’re in love or think we’re in love.

We can go as far as to put ourselves in physical danger. And we’re capable of violating what we know is right from wrong: our moral codes. And if you throw trauma in there, anything is possible. If you’ve experienced a violation but never received justice, it can really torment you. We’ve all experienced this in small ways. We’ve all experienced situations where someone insults you, and that night, you lie in bed, brooding and fantasizing about what you should have said or done.

In the case of our film, Raquel, the protagonist, has experienced a much deeper violation, one that she never addressed. This combines with this toxic relationship with our film’s femme fatale and results in some extreme noir-level decisions. Sofie mainly wanted to explore toxic love and betrayal. And that’s where I said: “Oh, that’s a noir.” Then we met in the middle, with the themes that she brought to the table on the one hand and the things that interested me on the other.

 Cinemacy: What was the collaborative process between you and Sofia – who also stars – in writing the film? Can you talk about what incorporating Latinx and LGBTQ+ characters and ideas about fate and destiny into the story meant to you? 

Francisco Ordonez: In terms of the writing, Sofia supplied the pieces of the story and the initial emotions, and I started writing a treatment. I would write and then send it to her. She’d give me notes, and I’d revise them. I did this for about a year. The final treatment that we wrote the script from was about 25 pages, single-spaced. I always write a treatment. I like the freewriting of it. And I like the way it allows me to see the entire film from a birdseye perspective, that is, all the acts and movements. A treatment is almost as good as an outline or post-it beat sheet in this respect.

When I’m writing in screenplay format, I find that I can only “see” the scene before the one I’m working on. And maybe I can see one or two scenes ahead.  At least, that’s the way it works for me. Once we got to the script stage, I would send Sofia the script as well as our other producer, Dan Ragussis. I’d get notes and keep revising. As I kept writing, Sofia’s initial ideas morphed into more hyperbolic versions of the original circumstances. It got to the point where the story took on a life of its own and had its own requirements.  Like all great actors, Sofia asks great questions about the narrative and the characters. During the writing process, she called me on nuts and bolts logic, as well as emotional logic and motivation.

Mainly, I was interested in exploring the question of whether there is such a thing as a cosmic order—whether you call it God or karma. I really wanted to bring the latent mysticism or spirituality of film noir to the surface, to the text level. People who know my work will recognize the spiritual themes (I guess you can call it “spiritual”) that I often return to. I don’t think anyone would call my films “religious films” or “religious scripts” but instead, films that are about religion.

My theory is that I’m drawn to these themes because I went to a Catholic school starting from kindergarten. I remember being marched into confession after my first communion every Wednesday. I must have been about 7 or 8 years old. At a young age, I was obliged to think about Hell, sin, and salvation. Today, I consider myself a lapsed Catholic, but those themes and questions are hardwired into my brain. I can’t shake them. They’re in there, they’re potent, and they keep coming out in my work. When Sofia and I discovered that our main character had a fixation with karma, that was an a-ha moment for me; that’s when I found my own personal way into this story. 

My parents are from Ecuador. Sofia was born in Medellin and moved to New York as a baby. We’re both Latino, so in that sense, it’s only natural that we’d incorporate Latinx characters into the writing even while not necessarily making an effort to make a “Latino film.” Same with LGBTQ+. Sofia identifies as pansexual and while this film has helped her navigate through that journey, we never necessarily set out to make an LGBTQ+ or Latinx film, per se.

Our objective was to take people we are familiar with, put them into a classic genre we love, and show the industry what we, as underrepresented people, can accomplish if given the opportunity. Actors like Robert Deniro and William Hurt solidified their stardom in neo-noirs, Deniro in Taxi Driver and Hurt in Body Heat. Noir anti-heroes are wonderful and challenging roles to play, and Sofia has shown that she can deliver and hold an entire film on her shoulders.

Behind the camera, you have me, a Latino director, a female Latinx producer, and a star in Sofia. Our director of photography (Gemma Doll-Grossman), Production Designer (Marina Pérez Ramirez), and film editor (Miriam Kim) are all women. We had a real presence of women, LGBTQ+, and people of color in front and behind the camera in key positions. That was one of our big goals, and we succeeded. Hiring from underrepresented communities is activism. It sounds like a slogan, but I believe it to be true, and I will continue to live by it.

Cinemacy: What were the first steps you took to begin production after the script was complete? Who were the first key crew members that you brought on?

Francisco Ordonez: Once the script was complete, we started a crowdfunding campaign. We needed seed money to open an LLC, to hire a lawyer to create the LLC, and such. We teamed up with an associate producer, Juan Gil, and a crowdfunding consultant and raised about $25K. The 3 of us, Sofie, Juan, and myself, ran the campaign under the guidance of our consultant, Avenida Productions. (Which are great, by the way.) It was around this time, at the commencement of the fundraising phase, that our Assistant Director, Matt Marder, came on board. He started helping us think about actually making the film, scheduling it, and all of that while we were still tweaking the script. 

Once we had a company/LLC formed, then we partnered with actor/executive producer, Ricky Russert and Dan Ragussis and his company Atomic Features. Both Dan and Ricky were instrumental in helping us to raise the private equity and of course, Dan produced the film through his company, Atomic. Sofia and I were blessed to work with them.

Very early on, we brought in actor Rene Rosado. Sofie, Rene, and I have been working together since I was in film school, 19 years now. Both Sofie and I knew that we wanted Rene to play the pivotal role of “Efraim,” Sofie’s best friend in the film. We knew that their real-life chemistry as long-time friends would work great in the film. I think it does.

Also, originally, Rene came in exclusively as an actor, but then he and I formed Shakti Sol Productions along with our third partner, Krishna Tewari. Shakti Sol helped produce and finance the film and consequently, our company has an ”in association” credit. Once we were officially in pre-production, we found our amazing Director of Photography, Gemma Doll-Grossman, her team and production designer, Marina Pérez Ramirez, and her awesome Art Director, Marian Wood.

Cinemacy: How did you find the right actors to embody these complicated characters, and what was your casting process like?

Francisco Ordonez: Working with the legendary casting team of Susan Shopmaker and Matthew Lessall was a blessing. They made incredible suggestions for all the roles or were pivotal in securing actors that I had targeted. For example, I had seen Sidney Flanigan in Never Rarely Sometimes Always and was blown away like everyone else. Same with Ser Anzoategui from the show “Vida.” Ser, like Sidney, was amazing to work with in terms of Ser’s commitment to the role. They’re such a nuanced and intense actor—intense in the best way.

Like Rene Rosado, there were a few actors cast among our friends. For example, Eddie Martinez plays “Uly,” Scotty Tovar plays “Nico,” and rapper and entrepreneur Berner plays “Tino.” They’re friends but they’re also amazing actors that we knew would deliver. It’s really important for me to know that everyone I’m working with is committed to the material, and it’s not just a paycheck. You need that, especially in independent films where paychecks are not necessarily exorbitant. I made sure that everyone we cast had that passion for playing the role and being part of the film.

Cinemacy: Can you describe The Low End Theory's visual style and how it aligns with traditional noir aesthetics while incorporating your unique perspective? Were there any particular films or filmmakers that inspired you? 

Francisco Ordonez: For the most part, The Low End Theory doesn’t directly align with a traditional visual noir aesthetic. That was intentional. A lot of classic noir films are rooted in German Expressionism. Given that we filmed in color, I didn’t want to try that style because I felt it would be compromised.

One of the things that I find really fun about neo-noirs, from Chinatown to neo-noirs made today, is that they don’t necessarily have a unifying visual style. They deliver echoes of classic noir via hairstyle or wardrobe (The Last Seduction is a good example of this), but overall, there’s a real eclecticism to the visual aesthetic in neo-noirs. What unifies neo-noirs is the experimentation with the narrative elements of the genre.

With this film, I was looking forward to filtering those narrative elements through my own visual instincts. While I didn’t go for German Expressionism, I was influenced by what I’ll call “Scorsese-an expressionism,” as well as the surrealism of Jacque Audiard’s Un Prophete. Scorsese comes into play via slow motion at certain moments when Raquel is faced with a big decision. We decided that we’d use slow-mo in those pivotal moments combined with tripod shots in what is otherwise a mostly shakey handheld film.

To really pull off Scorsese-an expressionism, you need a preponderance of fluid Steadicam and dolly shots, which I knew we couldn’t pull off based on our schedule. I knew we had to shoot fast, so we opted to shoot 85% of the film with a handheld camera (combined with a lot of available light) and relegate the smoothness of tripod shots to a few well-chosen moments so that those moments really mean something when the audience experiences them.

As far as Un Prophete, our film’s “ghosts” are inspired by Audiard’s film. I love the way that in Un Prophete, the apparition is really an effortless manifestation of guilt versus being explicitly supernatural, you know, a “ghost.” And yet, in Un Prophete, there is nonetheless a kernel of something supernatural about the ghost that I can’t put my finger on. The ambiguity is really nice and resonant for me in that film, so I wanted to play with that in a noir context. This was, for me at least, another way to pull the mysticism of noir up from the subtext to the text.

Cinemacy: The setting can significantly impact a film's tone. How did you choose the locations for this story, and what atmosphere were you aiming to create?

Francisco Ordonez: Independent films have to be very practical about locations. We had to shoot in places we could secure. And yet, we were able to get some great-looking locations. And by “great,” I mean they look visually appealing but also real to the story and the characters. Our production designer, Marina Pérez Ramirez, was instrumental in this via her artistry and vision and by generously devoting untold hours to scout with me. She really helped to ensure that we secured locations that she could make look striking and narratively appropriate.

Another consideration was the fact that I love showing parts of a town that don’t get enough screen time in most movies. For me, that was places like the downtown Los Angeles alley where two characters have a conversation or the bus that Raquel rides to work. We don’t really see the inside of L.A. buses in movies. That was fun shooting in those buses, let’s say, unannounced, even though it was tricky to shoot. Shout out to Sofia and our director of photography, Gemma, who were great sports about getting on those buses and shooting stuff guerrilla.

Cinemacy: How did you secure funding for The Low End Theory, and what advice would you give to other indie filmmakers looking to finance their projects?

Francisco Ordoñez: Three things: First, Tailor your budget to the amount of financing you can raise. Whether you write it yourself or find a script, get behind one that you absolutely adore. You have to be 1000% passionate about any story if you’ll have any chance of success. But do your best to tailor your budget to the financing that you can realistically raise. It’s a tricky thing to decide in advance how much you can raise before you’ve done it. But what’s the point of trying to raise, say, $20 million for your first film when it’s practically impossible to ever get it off the ground?

Nothing, of course, is impossible, but when you’re starting out, there’s so much to learn about the business of raising money, and the more you’re trying to raise, the more you don’t know. It behooves aspiring directors to make their film, to “get on the board,” because there’s just so much to learn about the craft of directing. It’s a mistake to ignore that the outliers are directors with debut films that are masterpieces.

Many think that Scorsese’s first film is Mean Streets, while it was his third. (Or fourth, if you count The Honeymoon Killers, from which he was fired.) Many people think that Tangerine is Sean Baker’s first feature, while it was his fourth. The only way to practice your craft is to make a movie, one you believe in. Therefore, it's absolutely critical to make one, so get behind a doable project, one that you love, and bring it to life.

Second: Don’t try to produce by yourself. Find a producer, one that is as passionate about your project and about becoming a producer as you are in becoming a director. The key is finding partners to help you raise money that are as incentivized to see the film made as you are. Our initial crowdfunding raised $27K. I couldn’t have raised that amount without Sofia and our associate producer, Juan Gil. Same with the equity we raised. My producers and exec producers, several of which were also actors, were pivotal in raising the money. I could not have done it by myself.

Third: Pick one project and throw yourself behind it like an obsessive maniac. There’s a reason why so many people want to make a film but never do. The answer is that it is so damn hard to pull off. Unless you have a trust fund, you won’t do it as an afterthought. You can’t dabble in producing an independent film. It’s just impossible. I found that I had to stop doing everything else other than “work-work,” that is, work to keep the lights on. Once I realized that I had to put down all the side pet projects, music videos, short films, and devote utter focus to The Low End Theory, that’s when things started to move, that’s when money started to move into our account.

Cinemacy: What emotions or questions do you hope audiences take away from the film, and how do you see it resonating with them? 

Francisco Ordonez: Our noir hero really struggles with whether it’s right or wrong to do what she does in the name of love. She’s someone who walks around believing that “what comes around goes around,” and she interprets events through that lens. She’s in a transactional relationship with the universe—trying to do good so it comes back to her and avoiding transgression for the same reason.

I think most of us live this way to some degree, even if it’s at a subconscious level, which makes it a universal film. I hope that, however you see Raquel’s ultimate fate, it entertains you and that you think about these questions at least a little about how they relate to your own life.

by Ryan Rojas