Screened at this year’s Sundance, Work is a short film about Gabi, a queer Latina, who goes through a difficult breakup and decides to revisit her former gig as a dancer at lap dance club. While there, she runs into someone from her past. Directed by April Maxey, Work’s cinematographer was Melinda James, who used both digital and film on the project.
James met Maxey at the New Orleans Film Fest in 2019. James’ short Oklahoma Is Black, which she filmed and co-directed with Tatyana Fazlalizadeh, was being screened there, and Maxey was a finalist in the screenplay competition. Let’s find out more about how James works and her collaboration with Maxey…
When did you get involved on the project? If early, how did that help your work?
She reached out after she got into AFI’s Directing Workshop for Women, which was February 2020. The idea was to film late spring/early summer, but at that stage of the pandemic, productions were being halted, and COVID restrictions were pretty strict.
Though it was tough to shift the momentum of moving toward production, it allowed April and me another year to form a friendship and understand what our background and interests were, not just as filmmakers, but as folks making their way through life in a pandemic. It also allowed us to really think about the visual language, not just in terms of how things looked but being intentional to our approach as well. Since we were featuring queer women of color and intimate moments, it was important to consider elements of gaze and framing that always kept our talent in positions of power.
What direction did April give you for the look? Were you provided examples, lookbook, etc.?
Initially for the look, we set up a Pinterest board, but then mostly we would text each other images that we liked and thought would work for certain moments.
April also ended up shooting a loose proof of concept for Seed&Spark (crowdfunding), so that helped guide those earlier conversations too. Since Work is based off of April’s life and experiences, I would ask her, “What did the night club look like? What does this particular moment represent for Gabi? When is Gabi in her own world, and when is she in the confines of reality?” Those moods really dictated when something should feel cool and somber or warm and playful or colorful and otherworldly.
How did you work with the colorist? Was it all remote?
The colorist on this project was Mark Sanna of Ntropic, and it happened remotely since they are based in New York. To start things off, April had sent over references and had an in-depth call about the tone and mood of the film. From there Mark would send over cuts, and April and I would take a look, discuss and share our feedback.
Can you talk about doing camera tests, and what did you end up shooting on and why? This was shot digitally and on film? Can you talk about that decision?
We didn’t do any camera tests for our digital camera. We knew that we wanted to use either an ARRI Alexa Mini or an Amira, and our budget led us to the Amira (laughs). We rented the camera from a local vendor, Sam Hicks of Sam Shot It, who gave us a very good deal on a package. I love the color science, ease and dynamic range of the Amira. It’s solid and reliable and had every function that we needed out of a camera.
We also used a wind-up Bolex H16 that was loaned to me from Echo Park Film Center. During lockdown, I played around with a lot of Super 8 and 16mm. Being so disconnected from folks and the previous way of living, I found a lot of comfort working with these kinda clunky, heavy pieces of equipment that required a lot of focus to use, and I loved hearing the film move inside the cameras.
Then there’s the texture and color of the images; the film burns from opening and closing the camera, which always feels a bit enchanting. April was given two expired rolls of Vision2 500T by a friend and asked me how I felt about shooting some 16mm for Work. She thought that it would be an interesting way to distinguish the flashbacks between Gabi and her ex. There’s a feeling of nostalgia that we get with watching grainy film, so it felt like that would be a better way to emphasize the longing of the memories versus trying to stylize those moments digitally.
Can you talk lenses and lighting?
April is a big fan of Zeiss Super Speeds and really wanted to use those, but I suggested that we try the Cooke Panchros, which I love for their warmth and how they render skin tones. A lot of the work that I do tends to lean toward the warmer ends of things, and I love how black and brown skin looks on the warmer side. We ended up doing a lens test at CSLA between the two sets of lenses, and April fell in love with how the Panchros looked, so we ended up going with those. Our set of Panchros was generously donated to the production by Chapin Hall.
Blake Smith was the gaffer on this project and incredibly thoughtful and intentional when it came to how we lit different scenes and moments. We took the references that April put together and created a story from there — When does Gabi feel alone? When does Gabi feel clear? When does Gabi get her footing and feel free and most herself? We are both big fans of street photography and portrait photography, so we understood that when it was possible, we wanted to lean on natural lighting (most of the lighting in the office scenes was natural) or be really minimal with how we lit.
When it came to the club scenes, though, we thought that’s when you should really feel the lighting of the space…as we’re entering a different world and a different headspace for Gabi. Blake had a really great way of adding accents and details — adding hints of blues and purples in our edge and back lights to add elements of contrast — that helped ensure we weren’t washing out our talent in red.
Are there some scenes that stick out as challenging?
The most challenging scenes were the ones at the night club, which we filmed at No Vacancy in Hollywood. We originally had three days planned for this location, but with our budget we could only afford two days, so everything we needed to get got squeezed and condensed. In most scenes, Gabi is alone or with one other person, but this location had the most setups and the most talent.
Most of our scenes here were physically intimate, so we had to dedicate a significant amount of time to choreograph with our intimacy coordinator to make sure everyone felt safe and comfortable. This stretch of production felt like those moments where you are moving so quickly from one setup to the next that you are using a lot of muscle memory and intuition to make it through.
Looking back on the film, would you have done anything different?
I think with each project, there will always be something that I wish I had done differently. But in any given moment, you do the best you can with the resources and time that’s available to you. There are also many happy accidents, things that you can’t plan or predict, that happen along the way, and who knows if I would’ve stumbled upon those particular happy accidents if I had done something different. I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so I always have a lot of things I’d like to tweak or adjust, but overall, I feel pretty good about how the film looks.
Is your process different working on a full-length project versus a short film?
I haven’t had the opportunity to shoot a feature-length film yet. The first full-length film that I’ll get a chance to lens is A Lo-Fi Blues by my best friend and collaborator, Ed Ntiri. The script is currently in development, but we’ve been filming screen tests as we work on developing the visual language. One thing I’ve learned from working on shorts is that you can never prepare enough, test enough, talk through scenes enough, so I’m going to carry over the importance for lots of tests and prep for the feature.
You have shot many different types of projects. How does working in all these genres help you, and do you have a favorite?
I love short films. I know that often short films are treated as the proof of concept for feature films, but I have great respect for anyone who can shape a whole world and tell an impactful story in three to 10 minutes.
I also love documentaries, and more so I’m curious about films that blend experimental and documentary elements together. While I enjoy working on narratives, branded content and commercials, I appreciate the space, freedom and ways to be curious that documentaries allow you to have.
With narrative and branded work, you’re always racing against the clock in a particular way, but I do my best to create space to look, to wonder, to try something unexpected, to follow something you didn’t plan for, and I get that from my documentary work.
I think what I’m most grateful for is what I learned from my professors at UC Santa Cruz’s Social Documentation program, which is the power that the camera has with its ability to include and exclude people and experiences simply by how something is framed. There is a great responsibility that cinematographers have when it comes to photographing a film. Is the camera looking up at someone, or looking down at someone? What parts of someone’s body or face are you cutting off? What does your gaze, or where you linger, communicate to your audience or to the person you’re filming? It is an extreme privilege to be able to witness and document something through a camera, and that is something that doesn’t fall lightly on me because of my documentary background.
Any tips for young cinematographers, especially women and people of color?
Follow your curiosity the best you can. Ask questions, especially the ones that seemingly don’t have answers. They will eventually lead you to move in a way that is all your own. Use what works for you and leave the rest. Along the way you’ll learn that saying no to things will ultimately lead you to finding your folks, the projects that are meaningful and most fulfilling to you. Understand that there is great responsibility as an image maker, and it’s important to know that how you decide to light and compose folks is a reflection of your care for those individuals.
For Black women and women of color, it’s important to know the ways in which working in film can be freeing, fun and exciting, but can also be a test of character and self. There have been great strides made in cinematography for Black folks, but it still values and benefits cisgendered, heterosexual white males first, and you will come to encounter that more than you’d like, in overt ways and subtle ways. If something feels off, you are not being sensitive or reading into something too deeply — trust what your gut is saying. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve doubted myself or went against my gut on something and ended up having to learn very difficult lessons.
Find the folks who advocate for you and support you and believe in you; they are out there. Find the projects you identify with; they are out there. Never hesitate to ask for what you are worth, especially when working with big brands — they can afford it. They are actively deciding what projects get certain budgets and what that cast and crew looks like on those projects. Despite the boundaries, barriers and obstacles, you will find a way that makes the most sense to you. Film is a beautiful medium. A place to explore, to dream, to wonder and to stay curious and inquisitive. Everyone should be able to make a living doing this in a way that feels and makes the most sense to them.