WNET has partnered with the Mayor’s Office of Immigrant Affairs to develop the Community Stories campaign, which highlights the rich cultural heritage and contributions of ordinary New Yorkers. Each month, a new video will be featured on air and on the Web highlighting individual New Yorkers’ immigrant stories. Learn more about the campaign and check out this month’s spotlight below, featuring Pastor Mullery Jean-Pierre of Beraca Baptist Church.

Pastor Mullery Jean-Pierre of Beraca Baptist Church discusses emigrating from Haiti to the U.S. as a child and his parents’ involvement with the first Haitian church in New York City:

Independent Lens caught up with filmmaker Sharon La Cruise to talk about how she got involved with Daisy Bates: First Lady of Little Rock, and why so many people have never heard of Bates – a central figure in the civil rights movement. The film kicks off Independent Lens’ Black History Month programming, and premieres on Sunday, February 5 at 11 p.m. on THIRTEEN.

Interview courtesy of Independent Lens. For more interviews and other Independent Lens film content, visit their blog.

What impact do you hope this film will have?

I hope the film will create a resurgence of interest in the role of women in the civil rights movement and serve as a reminder to Americans that the struggle for equal education in America continues.

What led you to make Daisy Bates: First Lady of Little Rock?

I fell in love with Daisy Bates’s story and wanted to share her story with Americans, thereby returning her to her rightful place in our history.

What were some of the challenges you faced in making this film?

One of the main challenges in producing this film was that my main subject had passed away and there were parts of her life that she never spoke or wrote about. Another challenge was that Daisy Bates became famous in 1957 and her autobiography ends in 1960, so there is very little archival material on her before and after that time period. In some instances I was forced to use personal letters to piece together the timeline of her life post-1957.

How did you gain the trust of the subjects in your film?

I truly believe the measure of a person’s life is the friends they left behind. Daisy Bates left behind a wonderful group of friends who loved her for all she was and wasn’t. The instance I reached out to these friends and told them I wanted to do a film on Daisy Bates, they gladly opened their homes and lives to me.

What would you have liked to include in your film that didn’t make the cut?

I would have liked to include Daisy’s activism in the 1960s. She worked for both Presidents Kennedy and Johnson to register black voters, and she supported the college students in Little Rock during their sit-ins. On a lighter note, I would have loved to include a hilarious story about Daisy cheating at poker.

Tell us about a scene in the film that especially moved or resonated with you.

There are several but my favorites would be the moment Daisy realizes that her life is a lie and she is an orphan; another scene is when the Little Rock Nine describe the abuses they suffered inside Central High School.

What do you remember most from the process of making the film?

One of my earliest interviews was with one of the white students from Central High who participated in burning and stabbing an effigy outside Central when the Little Rock Nine were locked out. We were introduced by a third party, so we had never met. The day of the interview he arrived and realized much to his surprise that I was black! His first words were a bit belligerent “Are you the one doing this interview??” I said, “Yes.” He responded, “Well, I’m going to tell you a few things you might not like.” I told him to be honest throughout the interview and that would be fine with me. It was a very complex interview because unbeknownst to me, he was hard of hearing. We had to devise a system so he read the questions in advance of my asking them. He was very honest throughout and although I didn’t agree with many of his comments at the end of the interview I really respected his honesty. Since then we’ve become pen pals. Every now and again he would write me to see how I’m doing and find out if I was able to find funding and give me ideas of where to look in Arkansas. He didn’t end up in the film because there wasn’t enough time. But that interview always stayed with me.

The only time I remember ever crying during an interview was when I interviewed Jefferson Thomas, who was the first of the Little Rock Nine to die. When he described the pain he suffered at the hands of the white students in Central High and the day he begged God to just give him the strength to endure it. I started to cry for the loss of his childhood and innocence. Yet he wasn’t bitter; he found a way to make jokes about his predicament. He was inspirational.

What has the audience response been so far? Have the people featured in the film seen it, and if so, what did they think?

I’ve screened various versions of the film over the years and the response has always been enthusiastic. Adults and teenagers are always baffled as to why they’ve never heard of Daisy Bates before. The people in the film have seen portions of the film. They love the film and are always amazed at depth and richness of the archival material. Most have either never seen Daisy Bates when she was young or remember her then. They are all very excited to see the final version of the film and can’t wait for a premiere in Arkansas.

The independent film business is tough. What keeps you motivated?

It is extremely difficult, and I must confess that although I had worked in it for many years before beginning my own film, I was still unprepared for how difficult it could be. What keeps me motivated is love of the subject and the commitment I made to both Daisy Bates and her supporters that I would finish this film. Also, I compare working on this film to jumping off a cliff — once you jump there’s no going back.

Why did you choose to present your film on public television?

I grew up watching PBS and fell in love with documentaries because of their exceptional programming in the ’70s. The PBS audience is very loyal and unique in their love of documentary films. It’s a dream come true to have my film join the impressive list of films that have showcased on PBS in the past.

What didn’t you get done when you were making your film?

Personally or professional? I rarely had any vacations and since I’ve had to spend so much time going to Arkansas I haven’t been able to return to my former hometown Atlanta.

What are your three favorite films?

My Lai Massacre; Eyes on the Prize; and Going Up River: The Long War of John Kerry

What advice do you have for aspiring filmmakers?

I would recommend that aspiring filmmakers find a film community to join before starting their own film. No one can make this journey alone and the people who complete the journey tend to have developed an extensive network of supporters along the way.

Series Creator and Executive Producer of American Masters, Susan Lacy

The Producers Guild Awards celebrate the year’s finest producing work in motion picture and television. This past Saturday, American Masters was honored as Outstanding Producer of Non-Fiction Television, beating out 30 for 30 from ESPN, Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations from the Travel Channel, Deadliest Catch from the Discovery Channel, and Undercover Boss from CBS.

The PGA Awards win follows other honors for the 25th anniversary season of American Masters, including an Emmy Award for Outstanding Primetime Nonfiction Series – its eighth win in 11 years! – and two Peabody Awards for A Letter to Elia and LennoNYC .

Congratulations to the American Masters team! Other winners from the PBS family include Masterpiece’s Downton Abbey (with the David L. Wolper Producer of the Year Award in Long-Form Television) and Sesame Street (with the Children’s Programs award).

Paul Mariano and Kurt Norton are co-founders of Gravitas Docufilms in California, and the producers of These Amazing Shadows, which premieres on THIRTEEN on January 1, 2012 at midnight. Their film is a departure for both men, who have worked together on mitigation videos in death penalty cases, and usually work on other tough human rights projects. But a passion for cinema and an innate curiosity led them to this project — a love letter to celluloid, and a call to action to preserve America’s film heritage.

Interview courtesy of Independent Lens. For more interviews and other Independent Lens film content, visit their blog.

What impact do you hope this film will have?
We want viewers to remember why they love the movies. We hope that our film will remind people how important movies are to our individual memories and our cultural heritage, and why we need to preserve them.

Aside from an obvious love of cinema, what led you to make These Amazing Shadows?
Becoming aware of the existence of the National Film Registry (its scope and purpose) and becoming aware of the shocking loss of American film.

Read More …

Filmmaker Bill Jersey. Photo courtesy of Quest Productions.

Inside Thirteen recently spoke with New Jersey-based filmmaker Bill Jersey, co-director and producer of American Masters’ upcoming documentary, Charles & Ray Eames: The Architect and the Painter.

The film, which is narrated by James Franco,  explores the lives of the iconic couple, whose innovative work continues to influence the design world to this day. Here, Jersey discusses his inspiration for the film and the Eames’ lasting impact on American culture.

Charles & Ray Eames: The Architect and the Painter premieres Monday, December 19 at 10 p.m. on THIRTEEN.

Inside Thirteen: What inspired you to make this film?

Bill Jersey: [Co-director and producer] Jason Cohn. Jason fell in love with Eames’ movies, of all things, and when he bought his new house with his wife in Berkeley, he had Eames furniture. All I knew about Eames was that I was in Minneapolis with my then girlfriend and now wife, and she said, “Oh, my friend has an Eames chair.” I said, you live in Minneapolis, my children live in San Francisco, and I live in New York. What am I going to do with a chair?” I sat in an Eames lounger, and within five seconds, I said, “I’ll take it!” I didn’t think about what it would cost, how I would get it anywhere — I loved it. I’ve sat in it every day in my house and my office for the last 30 years.

Also, Jason did a lot of research, and I realized that the Eames, as Charles was of course fond of reminding people, were not just designers of chairs. Their philosophy, their way of being in the world and their excitement about everything — that excitement was infectious. To me, that’s what the film is about. It’s creating excitement around them, as they created excitement around their world. They inspired all kinds of people. A financial magazine in Norway that had one of the biggest circulations did a review of one of the Eames’ exhibits, and people said, “What in the world is a financial magazine doing with the Eames’ show?” But that was what was so exciting about them, they touched every world, and the film touches every world.

So that’s why I did the film…in the beginning it was, “Why not?” but then at the end, why? Because it’s so rich, so varied, and so much fun. Someone told me, “This is not your typical PBS show.” Well, I think that they were not your typical people, so if we made an atypical show, it’s because we had atypical people to make a film about.

IT: What kind of person did you have to be to work for the Eames?

BJ: Well, first I think you had to be fairly thick-skinned. Charles was not an easy person to work with. A friend of mine, Bill Couturié, a very well known filmmaker — his first job was with Charles. He went out on shoots and was scared to death that Charles would hate everything he shot, but he actually liked one out of nine. And Bill said, “Boy, did I feel good!” But then Charles added, “Well, one in nine is good; if I’d have shot it, nine out of nine would have been good.” He was a very tough task masker, in spite of his charm and dimpled chin. But obviously, as my favorite character in the film Jeannie Oppenwall said, “Well, I was exploited, but I was exploited by a proper master.” And as she said, you’d be really stupid if you didn’t exploit the relationship.

IT: What do you think the Eames’ greatest contribution was to American culture and design?

BJ: For me, it’s personal — they produced something that when you sat in it, you wanted to buy it — that’s a major contribution. Like Charles says in the film, they felt like they were the hosts, and the hosts had to prepare their guests something they would like. I think that attitude, and also the attitude that the designer’s job was not to be clever, or creative, or original — it was not to be an “artist” and certainly not a genius. The job of the designer is to satisfy a problem.

When Charles did the “Mathematica” exhibit for IBM, as creative as it was, it was an attempt to get people to understand what a computer could do and that it wasn’t a dangerous monster that would transform their lives into a number. So, I think it was attitude and a design sense. You still have people talking about Eames era. And there is so much knock-off Eames stuff; you know the difference. It saddens me that when you go into airports today, instead of seeing the Eames stadium seating, which is wonderful and attractive, there are cheap versions. You feel like, why did they do that? Why do farmers take a tomato that tastes delicious and redesign it so it ships and doesn’t taste like anything? But I do think it’s coming back. I think most people like it because it’s comfortable and attractive.  To me, that’s their greatest contribution, saying, “You know, what we should be about as designers is making something that works, and works better and with more beauty than ever before.” I think that’s why Steve Jobs was such a success. That’s why The New York Times connected Eames to Jobs — both of them set out to solve a problem. They weren’t about trying to create something pretty; they were about trying to do something that people needed done. But, once they accomplished that, they wanted to make it attractive.

IT: What did it mean for the Eames’ career and reputation at the time to be selected to put together such high-profile international projects like “Glimpses of the USA,” representing the U.S. to the Soviets in Moscow, and the IBM Pavilion at the 1964 World’s Fair?

BJ: “Glimpses of the USA” made their career soar, as well it should have. Charles’ greatest interest was in ideas. “Glimpses of the USA” was not to show off; I think he just loved doing what he did. When he did the do-nothing machine, for instance, that was just because he liked to play. This was a guy who never grew up — he was never ashamed of what he did.

I think “Glimpses of the USA” was their biggest impact. They were lovers — with one another, with the world, and with their work. And that came through, so that it wasn’t just information well told (which it was). It was a kind of a love affair with America that Charles had that made him a good propagandist, because he really believed that this was a good country for him and for the rest of us. I think the inspiration derived from the enthusiasm and the commitment, as well as from any mechanics of design.  So while the chairs changed their careers as designers, “Glimpses of the USA” changed their public roles as filmmakers and communicators.

IT: Do you think the disparity between Charles and Ray’s positions in the company, at least in their public roles, was a product of the time, or was it because of their personalities?

Charles and Ray Eames. Photo courtesy of Herman Miller.

BJ: It was a product of the times; it was a product of Ray’s acceptance of that role of the times. Not every woman accepted that ‘stand behind the man’ role. Many others stepped out from behind and said, “I’m not going to stay behind that guy because I’m the one that’s doing it.” But at the time, the man was up front and you just accepted it…there was a certain level of comfort in that for her I suspect, but I don’t know. But she wasn’t shy in relation to the world. We never really got that in the film, but a number of people talked about that. She’d go to New York City and she’d walk down the street, and she would see everything — she would see the crack in sidewalk that had a great shape, she would see a little flower that wasn’t normally a flower. Everything attracted her, which of course terrified people when she was driving a car because she would even do that while driving! She’d look to her left and say, “Oh did you see that?” And the others in the car would say, “No we didn’t, and we don’t want you to!”

IT: Are there any misconceptions about the Eames that you hope this film will clear up?

BJ: Yes — the misconception that they were chair designers. Charles was a superstar; he was handsome, charismatic, famous. One of our delights was that moment where we looked at that letter Ray wrote to Charles in France where she revealed that she and some other people worked on and made some changes to the chair’s design. That was the kind of unarguable evidence of her contribution. As we look back, lots of people say, “Oh, Ray did this, Ray did that.” My hope is that people will see them as complex human beings and see the complex relationship that they had.

IT: You’ve produced many documentaries for public television, including for WNET in the past. What has attracted you to PBS as a venue for your films?

BJ: Many reasons. The shows I did for network television in the 1960s were similar to the shows I did with PBS. But 1960 was a very different world in television. There were four stations – three commercial networks, and PBS. Shows I did for network television at the time were part of The DuPont Show of the Week in 1960. The FCC was very aggressive in insisting that the networks provide information instead of just entertainment, so that The DuPont Show of the Week said, “Okay, we’ll do 13 dramas and seven documentaries.” And they couldn’t care less what we did! So it gave us the liberty to do whatever kind of film we wanted. That’s where I got my first Emmy in 1963. So it was a very different world then, and you could get attention doing network television; in a limited way, but a significant way. Whereas now, if you want to take a serious subject and make a sincere work that has nuances in it and doesn’t get cut up in five pieces so that you have to restart every ten minutes, there’s no place but PBS. Ken Burns said it well — he could’ve gone to commercial television, but there’s no reason to!

I did a two-part series for Fox on the Mob, but that’s all they want to do! All they [commercial networks] want to do is the Mob, sex and violence. Who wants to do a show on a guy who designed chairs and made pictures?  Only PBS, and only American Masters. We felt that this was the place we could really address substance rather than just surface. Where you could really engage in the pursuit of light rather than just heat. I don’t know where else you go besides PBS.

The Patchogue Community (Photo courtesy of Jackson Hill Photography, LLC)

On Wednesday, December 7, join us at the Museum of Arts and Design for a screening of Not In Our Town: Light in the Darkness. The film tells the story of residents of a Long Island village who took action after a local immigrant was killed in a hate crime attack by seven teenagers. While starkly revealing the trauma of hate, the film provides a blueprint for people who want to do something before intolerance turns to violence.

Over 200 screenings of this film are being held across the country to spark dialogue and action in communities working together to prevent hate crimes, intolerance and anti-immigrant violence. Not In Our Town highlights the role of community and civic leaders in promoting a climate of inclusion and acceptance for everyone.

The screening will be followed by a discussion with the filmmaker and special guests about what each of us can do in the New York region to stop hate together in our communities and schools, and how you can support the Not In Our Town mission. The event runs from 6:30 – 8:30 p.m.; light hors d’oeuvres will be served before the screening begins at 7 p.m.

RSVP for this event here.

Learn more about the background of this film with MetroFocus’ feature about the Patchogue hate crime.

Watch a trailer:

This screening is presented by NIOT. Co-sponsors include Michele and Martin Cohen, Facing History and Ourselves, Center for Health Media and Policy, and The Working Group/Not In Our Town.

Filmmaker Anne Makepeace took some time out to answer a few questions about her film We Still Live Here — Âs Nutayuneân, which premieres on THIRTEEN on November 20 at 11 p.m. In tandem with this film, Makepeace collaborated with Cultural Survival to create Our Mother Tongues, an interactive website highlighting efforts to revitalize native languages across North America.

Here, Makepeace discusses her inspiration for the film, and what didn’t make the final cut.

Interview courtesy of Independent Lens. For more interviews and other Independent Lens film content, visit their blog.

What impact do you hope this film will have?

I hope that the film will serve as both a cautionary tale and an inspiring model for Native communities whose languages are endangered. Language revitalization programs are springing up on reservations and among urban Native American communities across the country, but reviving a language is a hugely difficult and slow process. The film is already being used in this way to wonderful effect. Also, as I travel around to film festivals, I am finding that the film has an equally important impact on non-native communities. Few people are aware that the native people of New England who ensured the survival of the Pilgrims even exist, much less that they are having a cultural revival. Seeing the film has made them see our early history in a brand new way.

What led you to make this film?

I was transfixed by the unprecedented and astonishing story of the Wampanoag Indians of Cape Cod and Martha’s Vineyard bringing back their language. No one had spoken the language in a century, at least not in any fluent way. They were literally bringing it back from the dead, though they would say that the language was only sleeping. I found Jessie Little Doe — whose visions moved her to lead her fellow Wampanoags in reclaiming their language — enormously compelling, entertaining, moving, funny, and inspiring, and her daughter Mae, the first Native speaker of Wampanoag in a century, added another level of the story that made it impossible for me to resist.

What were some of the challenges you faced in making We Still Live Here?

Making a film about the resurrection of a language is an enormous challenge. How do you make learning a language, or language itself, visually exciting? It’s nearly impossible. Fortunately two things enabled me to do this: the talents of my fabulous animator Ruth Lingford, who made language come alive in a new way, and the existence of absolutely beautiful 17th and 18th century documents handwritten in Wampanoag by the ancestors of the people in my film. And of course the beautiful and compelling people who are bringing back the language.

What would you have liked to include in the film that didn’t make the cut?

I would have liked to have included a scene in which a Wampanoag extended family are looking over their genealogy, which extends back to 1612 when their ancestor was the sachem of Nantucket. The family includes members of every color, from black to white, but all identify as Wampanoag. To me this scene embodies the native values of acceptance, of inclusiveness, and of family, but since I couldn’t make it relate directly to language loss or revival, it didn’t quite work in the cut. I’m glad to say that I did use this scene as the centerpiece for the video extra, Are You an Indian?

Tell us about a scene in the film that especially moved or resonated with you.

I am always moved by the scene in which Jessie discovers that her advisor at MIT will be the linguist she insulted a few years before at a meeting in Aquinnah. She knows she screwed up and is ready to apologize, but Ken Hale apologies first and becomes her beloved mentor. Then later in the film when Jessie is speaking Wampanoag at his memorial service after his untimely death, and says it’s because of him that she is speaking her ancestral tongue, I always tear up.

Photo by Brian Hamill, courtesy of MGM

In American Masters’ upcoming documentary on Woody Allen, the film legend allows his life and creative process to be documented on-camera for the first time. The two-part film follows Allen’s career,  spanning over 40 years, and tracks his story from his childhood and first professional gigs as a teen to his most recent box office hit, Midnight in Paris.

Check out Woody Allen’s “My New York” feature on MetroFocus.

Join THIRTEEN for a look at some of the most memorable New York moments in Allen’s films.

American Masters — Woody Allen: A Documentary airs Sunday, November 20 and Monday, November 21 at 9 p.m. on THIRTEEN.

Get a closer look at the film with these excerpts:

When Woody Met Diane: See what happened when Woody Allen first met Diane Keaton and learn what they both first thought of each other.

Woody Allen at Taminent: Woody Allen describes how he began writing comedy sketches at the Tamiment, a Poconos resort.

Woody’s Improv – The Punatorium: Dick Cavett recalls Woody Allen’s legendary improvisation skills.

Jonathan Silvers (Saybrook Productions)

Inside Thirteen recently spoke with Jonathan Silvers, the filmmaker behind Elusive Justice: The Search for Nazi War Criminals. The film investigates the global search for the 20th Century’s greatest criminals — fugitive Nazis — and the determined individuals who sought to bring them to justice.

Here, Silvers discusses his inspiration for the film and the motives of the so-called Nazi hunters featured in the documentary.

Elusive Justice: The Search for Nazi War Criminals airs Tuesday, November 15 at 9 p.m. on THIRTEEN.

Inside Thirteen: What inspired you to make this film?

Jonathan Silvers: Back in the late 80s and throughout the 90s, I covered a succession of wars, atrocities, and genocides.  Anyone who observes conflict is obviously going to be sympathetic toward the victims and survivors.  But I also became increasingly curious about the perpetrators, their psyche, their methods, and their objectives.  In the aftermath of these conflicts, the majority of perpetrators not only went unpunished; they were absorbed back into the societies they had devastated.  I saw this time and again — in Bosnia, Rwanda, Cambodia, Kosovo, Congo.  In most cases, the number of those brought to justice was a fraction of those who participated in unspeakable crimes.

In 1997, I was working for ABC in New York when I got a call from a friend who’d been my fixer during the Balkan wars.  He was then based in Vienna and had heard a rumor that a basement vault of a psychiatric hospital contained human remains dating back to World War II.  On the strength of this tip, I flew over with a cameraman to Vienna and we broke into the basement vault.  Inside we found several hundred human brains.  They were the brains of disabled or handicapped children who’d been murdered during World War Two as part of the Nazi euthanasia program.  These brains had been used for research during the intervening 50 years by the hospital director, Heinrich Gross, who during the War had been a Nazi doctor and had ordered these children murdered.  After we breached his vault, Dr. Gross disappeared, and we spent a week trying to track him down.  We’d been staking out his daughter’s house and just as we were about to give up, he appeared.  We ran out of our vehicle with our cameras rolling, and Dr. Gross stood there, shaking in his boots, speaking to us on camera for a half hour.  Our story aired on Nightline and BBC, and we exposed this great, unknown atrocity and this criminal who had been living not only freely, but had risen to the very highest levels of the medical profession in his native Austria.  The exposé forced the Austrian prosecutors’ hands.  The international outcry led to the first Nazi-era trial in 30 odd years in Austria.

So these experiences – the war reporting and exposing the Nazi doctor – started me thinking about the legions who’d participated in the Holocaust but had gone unpunished. And I started researching the post-war lives of the worst of the Nazi perpetrators, which was a revelation, because the vast majority of them went on to lead normal, prosperous lives.   And then it struck me that the only people who tried to hold accountable these enemies of humanity were the so-called Nazi hunters, the individual men and women who believed that enemies of humanity must be punished – if humanity itself is to survive.   In the aftermath of no other war that I can recall do you have individuals relentlessly, obsessively pursuing justice on a mass scale.

I officially launched this film in 2008 because I recognized an urgency: the generation of Nazi perpetrators was dying off.  So was the generation of Nazi hunters, and I thought that the lessons they offered were appropriate for the 21st Century, in which we unfortunately still have these kinds of atrocities, maybe not to the same scale but with similar intent.

IT: What do you think was the primary motivator for the men and women who tracked down the Nazi fugitives — a personal connection, or something larger than that, a desire for justice?

JS: So many different motives. I think all of them had a personal connection. In many cases, the connection was the loss of family, or they had experienced the Nazi atrocities themselves.   The motives are as varied as the hunters.  Most of them cling to higher principles, and to the law, which says that murder, mass murder, must be punished.  How often, in post-war environments, do you hear people talk about that? Almost never.  A few that I met were motivated by vengeance.  They were so affected by what they had lived through or had lost that vengeance was a simple and obsessive motive.  A couple didn’t even attempt to sugarcoat, they just said explicitly that it was about vengeance.

As a journalist, I have to be objective, but as a human being, I think vengeance can have very dangerous consequences.  The film opens with a segment on Jewish avengers, who lost their families and survived and decided that they were going to take it upon themselves to revenge themselves not on the Nazis, the troops who pulled the trigger, but on the German people as a whole. It’s a horrible thing to consider, especially as not all the Germans were guilty.  But to these avengers, there was no doubt that the Germans were guilty, because it was the German nation that had committed this crime.  I deliberately start with them because that was the rawest expression of justice, but I also like the ambiguity – what is justice? What do we mean by justice, and how can we ever have justice for crimes on such a scale?

IT: In the film, journalist Peter Finkelgruen says, “Politics and society didn’t want these trials, and when they could avoid it, they did avoid it.” Why was this the case?

JS: It comes down to this: no nation wants to prosecute its own people for crimes against humanity, especially when those crimes were state policy.  What child would prosecute his own parents?  If you look at the broader issue, tracking down and prosecuting war criminals is enormously expensive, time consuming, and exhausting.  Who has the money and the strength to do this?  I’ve never seen it done with any measure of success, whatever that may be.  So when Peter says politics didn’t want these trials, he’s absolutely right. Nobody wants to look in the mirror if the reflection is ugly.  And much as I believe in higher principles and punishing war criminals, in this era of economic uncertainty the question arises: can we countenance spending limited resources on prosecuting octogenarians?  Maybe if I’d survived the Holocaust I would say absolutely, go after them until their last breath.  But, pragmatically, as a nation, do we want to take on that enormous effort?  It’s a very confusing question.

IT: What was the experience like confronting Dr. Heinrich Gross, who murdered children at the Spiegelgrund clinic?

JS: It was amazing, because we had a sense when we were talking to him that he knew the jig was up – and that he’d been fearing this moment for fifty years.  Incidentally, I start the film with a similar scene of exposure, filmed in the early 1970s by a cameraman name Harry Dreifuss.  He’d been working with Serge and Beate Klarsfeld to expose Nazi criminals living openly in West Germany, and he found a guy name Kurt Lischka.  Lischka had been an SS Colonel and Gestapo chief during the war, and had sent tens of thousands of Jews to the concentration camps.  In the 1970s, when Dreifuss found him, he was a successful businessman and judge in his hometown of Cologne.  But the frame of him walking along a rain swept street when he suddenly realizes he’s being filmed is momentous.  There he is, in black and white, raising his briefcase to conceal his face and fleeing.   It’s obvious that he feared this moment, feared exposure, every day and that his worst fears were about to come true.

IT: Was there anything you were surprised to learn while making Elusive Justice?

Personnel records of fugitive Nazi criminals. (Photo courtesy of Jonathan Silvers/Saybrook Productions)

JS: I think the psychology of the Nazi hunters and their single-minded pursuit and determination – to do this for decades and decades and decades…in one sense it’s amazing and honorable, and in another, it’s an indication of how damaged they were that they wouldn’t let go of this. But, if their psychological damage led to the prosecution of mass murderers, who’s to say they were wrong? What’s also interesting is that you don’t see a lot of people who do this who weren’t directly affected, but occasionally you do. At the U.S. Justice Department, you have Eli Rosenbaum, who is probably the most determined investigator out there now, in an official capacity, and what he’s up against – he says, “we’re racing against the grim reaper,” but he’s also racing against political apathy around the world.

Over the decades the intent or methods of the Nazi hunters got larded in myth.  Most people, when hear the words Nazi hunter, envision guys in trench coats walking down dark alleys looking for sinister characters. And they think probably of Simon Wiesenthal and a couple of iconic cases. I don’t think they understood what individual investigators and prosecutors actually did.   So, in a sense I wanted to clarify or debunk the myth, and introduce viewers to people they might not have heard of, to bring them closer to the truth.

IT: What message do you hope viewers will take from the film?

JS: I don’t want to be too strident, but I think the line that concludes the film’s introduction is key: enemies of humanity must be pursued if humanity is to survive. I really believe that. You can’t have a functioning society with killers at large.

Director Judy Lieff

Independent Lens caught up with director Judy Lieff, whose film Deaf Jam premieres this Sunday at 11 p.m. on THIRTEEN. Lieff offers some perspective on the challenges she faced making the film, plus some updates on what the people portrayed in the film have been up to since shooting wrapped.

Interview courtesy of Independent Lens. For more interviews and other Independent Lens film content, visit their blog.

What impact do you hope this film will have?

I hope that this program will inspire and empower deaf youth and contribute to expanding social images of the deaf community. I also hope that the film will inspire anyone interested in poetry and literature to explore ASL poetry.

What led you to make this film?

While working as a visiting artist teaching video production to deaf high school students, I was introduced to the hidden practices of ASL poetry. Shortly thereafter, I was invited to attend a youth poetry slam, and it occurred to me that it would be fantastic to see deaf teens involved in this exploding movement. My research revealed that few, if any, deaf teens had ever been involved in the slam scene. Also, during my research, I met Liz Wolter, an ASL literature teacher at Lexington School for the Deaf who had been teaching single semester ASL poetry electives and video poetry projects with guest poets including poet guru, Bob Holman. Things just jettisoned from there, and I teamed up with City Lore, a non-profit organization dedicated to the preservation of America’s living cultural heritage, to produce the documentary and raise funds to assist Liz in extending her electives to a full year.

What were some of the challenges you faced in making this film?

The issue of translation both for the dialogue and the poetry was the most challenging. ASL poetry is a totally different modality from written poetry. Many of the techniques involve spatial relationships as well as images and transitions that are visual and lose their power when translating into a written or spoken form. I chose to utilize animated graphics to approximate the translation. Regarding the dialogue — I had to shoot with two cameras most of the time in order to catch all the dialogue plus have an interpreter paired up with each camera operator so they knew what was being expressed. It was difficult keeping the sound of the interpreter off of the boom microphone even with if they were wearing a wireless mic. Given that we were shooting handheld and the nature of translating ASL, we did not have the option of putting the interpreter in another room with a monitor feed from the cameras. In some shooting situations, I had to lose the voice of the interpreter and translate the scene in post-production. In the end, I still had to transcribe all of the footage in post to get a more accurate read. In group situations it was impossible for interpreters to get all that was being said in the moment.

How did you gain the trust of the subjects in your film?

Prior to starting the project, I had been teaching video to deaf students and had established relationships with some of the poetry mentors through various other small projects. So, I had a rudimentary understanding of ASL and was able to communicate on a basic level with the students. When I started working on Deaf Jam, I made a point to always have a camera with me and attend all of the workshops even though I knew I wasn’t going to use all the footage. The consistency of filming allowed the students to become quite comfortable being filmed. I also utilized my dance background and gave the students warm-up exercises which let me step away from “production mode” and gave the characters a chance to get to know a bit more about me. My dance background and comfort in communicating through gesture and motion augmented my signing skills.

What would you have liked to include in your film that didn’t make the cut?

For the theatrical version of the film there were several fun scenes with Peter Cook that exhibited the cinematic concepts involved in ASL poetry that I wish I could have kept. However, I eventually decided that those scenes would be best included in the DVD extras or educational version of the film as they directly pertain to “how to make an ASL poem” and not the main character’s trajectory. For the broadcast version of the film, there were two scenes in particular that I would have liked to keep. One scene involves an isolated shot of one of Aneta’s classmates, Wanda, working on her first poem. The scene showcases the beauty of ASL poetry quite well and Wanda’s personality really comes through in the poetry. The other scene I would have liked to keep was a controversial discussion among the teachers in the famous Katz’s Deli about the future of ASL. In both instances, I had to ultimately remove them from the television version because they did not directly relate to Aneta’s story.

Tell us about a scene in the film that especially moved or resonated with you.

There is a graduation party for Aneta’s classmates in the middle of the film that is shot by the students. In the scene Aneta, expresses her concerns about being left alone while all her friends go off to college. For deaf students, school life becomes your second family. Aneta and her peers had been attending Lexington since they were children. So the impact of separation for Aneta is profound.

What has the audience response been so far? Have the people featured in the film seen it, and if so, what did they think?

So far, people who have seen the film have fallen in love with Aneta and want to meet her. Also, many hearing folks who have seen the film have asked where they can take ASL classes. During the edit process, I consulted with Aneta on the translation of some of the scenes particularly her poetry scenes and the scenes with Shiran where the two are signing in Israeli sign language. Five of the characters in the film have seen the final version. I held a screening for Aneta’s family and friends and to my relief they were thrilled! Peter Cook, Dirksen Bauman, and Liz Wolter — three prominent subjects in the film and experts on ASL poetry applauded the results. Dirksen has been key to my outreach developments for the film with Gallaudet University.

What has happened with the people in the film since you finished it?

Aneta Brodski and Tahani Salah (Photo courtesy of Melissa Donovan)

Aneta Brodski – After graduating from Lexington, Aneta took a year off from school before enrolling part time at John Jay College and studying International Criminal Justice. While attending college, Aneta worked as a volunteer and activist for the organization Global Deaf Women. She is currently teaching American Sign Language in New York City in order to continue her education. This summer she was asked to create a poem for Cisco’s online technology news site and Summer Poetry Series.

Tahani Salah – Tahani graduated from Columbia University. She is currently serving as a youth outreach coordinator and member of the Word Wide Youth Leadership Board with Urban Word NYC. She is also a member of the Nuyorican Slam Team and author of the forthcoming book Respect The Mic. Tahani has been featured on HBO’s Def Poetry Jams.

Shiran Zhavian – Shiran graduated from Gallaudet University with a BS degree in chemistry. She was crowned Miss Deaf New York for 2009-2011 by the ESAD (Empire State Association of the Deaf). Currently, Shiran is in graduate school studying to be a pharmacist.

Liz Wolter – Liz continues to teach English and ASL literature at Lexington School for the Deaf. She is a contributor to the book Signing the Body Poetics.

Peter Cook – Peter is a full-time professor in ASL–English Interpretation at Columbia College in Chicago and is earning his Masters degree. He continues to travel internationally performing ASL poetry and stories.

Manny Hernandez – Manny lives in Washington D.C. with his wife and daughters. He travels internationally performing ASL stories and is on faculty at the Catholic University of America teaching ASL and is an adjunct professor at Gallaudet University.

Terrylene Sacchetti – Terrylene has founded a company called Clerc’s Children, Inc. It is a web-based dual language development curriculum and service for deaf and hard-of-hearing infants and toddlers.

The independent film business is a difficult one. What keeps you motivated?

I’m inspired by the burgeoning film scene both online and in traditional settings. Seeing films and other works of art along with the act of creating new projects keeps me motivated. I also try to incorporate some form of creativity into every day even if it only involves a domestic chore.

Why did you choose to present your film on public television?

From the beginning, I thought that Public Television would be the ideal venue for Deaf Jam. The mission statement for public television calls for films that reflect underrepresented communities and express points of view seldom explored in popular media, and Deaf Jam satisfies this vision.

What didn’t you get done when you were making your film?

What I did get done was become a parent during the making of Deaf Jam. But, between the making of the film and parenting I didn’t get anything else done.

What are your three favorite films?

This is a particularly tough question — I don’t really have favorites per se of any category – food, color, etc. My interests fluctuate according to circumstances. What I list today will most likely change tomorrow – but here goes:

The Great Dictator by Chaplin, Amarcord by Fellini, The Fog of War by Errol Morris

What advice do you have for aspiring filmmakers?

Follow your instincts and your dreams. Stay focused and don’t be afraid of making mistakes.

What do you think is the most inspirational food for making independent film?

I would say that the most inspirational and metaphorical food for me would be – the preparation (not necessarily the consumption) of a dinner consisting of wild mushroom risotto accompanied by a full bodied dry red wine, a green salad comprised of local produce, and a sorbet with fresh fruit for dessert. I chose the risotto because the recipe I have is labor intensive but the results are delicious. I chose the salad because I think salads are fun to create. The sorbet clears your palate at the close of a meal and prepares you for the next consumption.