Director Sedika Mojadidi

One in seven Afghan women dies in childbirth. Motherland Afghanistan, airing Sunday, May 13 on Global Voices on the WORLD Channel (check listings), introduces the women behind these devastating statistics. Afghan American filmmaker Sedika Mojadidi examines her father’s work as an OB/GYN as he struggles to make a difference. Beyond the Box spoke with Mojadidi about filming such an intimate story alongside her father.

Both your parents are physicians. How did you get into film?

I was always interested in movies. I gravitated toward them naturally, from a young age. And in school, I studied film for a long time, film theory and film history.  I was never good in science or math so it’s ironic that I’m following my parent’s story because growing up I wasn’t really all that interested in medicine.

Your voiceover guides part of the film, but it’s your father’s voice that serves as the chief narrative. Was this your intention all along?

Dr. Qudrat Mojadidi serves as both a principle charcter in the documentary and as the filmmaker's father

It was always my plan. Actually, I never planned to be in the film but that emerged out of the process of making it for two years. After the first trip, we looked at some of the footage of me translating and other producers felt strongly about keeping me in the picture. I fought against it but eventually surrendered. I felt strongly from the get-go that the film needed to be from my father’s perspective. The film needed to be centered around him, his work, and the patients he looked after.

You immigrated to the U.S. when you were very little in 1972. How much of a culture shock was it for you to return to Afghanistan and shoot this film?

Overall it was a bigger culture shock than I was expecting. That I had been busy setting up to shoot in the hospitals and dealing with the crew and juggling all those responsibilities made the shock worse than I had anticipated. But it really was a shock to see how much the city had changed. To see neighborhoods bombed and such high levels of poverty in what I remembered as a sleepy city. All of it had changed and all the people I knew as a kid were gone.

Your film paints a grim picture of guerrilla medicine in Afghanistan. In one scene, your father (and viewers) wait anxiously for an anesthesiologists to show up as a patient shrieks in pain. How hard was it for you to document these real life scenes up close?

You know when things like that happen, they are not hard to film. It’s afterwards, screening the footage that is difficult to take. When you’re caught in the moment, there is so much adrenaline and you feel like your capturing something authentic. So you’re trying to stay focused and do the moment justice. But once you have a moment to catch your breath and you feel how sad or difficult those scenes really are.

Throughout the film your father operates in such a matter-of-fact state, even under such emotional circumstances like when he discovers the death of a premature baby. How were you at controlling your emotions and composure during these moments?

I was a wreck. We all knew that little baby was not going to make it. The hospital didn’t have life support equipment and had never delivered a premature baby before. So it was a really awful feeling for those two days that the baby was alive because we were all not wanting to think about the outcome.

My father has worked in Pakistan and Afghanistan for 20 – 25 years, so he’s been through this before. He understands that he must keep his distance or he can’t really do his work. He’s a pretty straightforward guy anyways, very no-nonsense, but for me it was really hard. It was very difficult and emotional. Again, I tried to behave professionally during filming to make sure we captured all the elements of the story. But that was heartbreaking because she really bonded with her baby and it was hard for her to see that happen.

And for me that moment really is the story. It really personalizes what it means when you say 20% of infants in Afghanistan will not see their first birthday. You have babies dying at such a rapid rate, so big you can’t even grasp what that really means. But then you see what it means for somebody to lose a child and what an emotional and devastating toll that is to take. I hope that moment resonates for people so they see that losing a child is difficult anywhere in the world.

Following your father and mother on night calls in Afghanistan. How close did you become with your parents over the course of making this film? And did you learn anything about them you didn’t already know?

I think the film itself, the process, made us closer. I developed even more respect for my dad and his commitment and his sense of mission in Afghanistan. I grew up knowing he worked there but it was something else to see him navigate through those conditions. I started to see the reality of what his work was and developed a tremendous amount of respect for him. I think he also learned a little bit about what I do and so we definitely grew closer.

It was a difficult experience for both of us because my father never really wanted to be filmed. He wasn’t interested in being filmed and so it took a while for him to get used to the camera and me following him. But now, when we look at film, we have a document of this one particular moment in our lives. We have a document of it, and that makes him really happy.

What do you tell filmmakers who come to you for advice?

Make sure you really have something to say that no one else is saying.

This interview was originally published on July 9, 2010.

Many films have been made about street children. Some good, some not. The kids are a thankful target for filmmakers like myself, as we ardently become sponges for their heartfelt stories. With so much done already, why then, I was often asked, make another documentary about one?

The answer is simple: by means of a compelling story which accompanies a young street mother and her baby for over a year, I want to draw attention to the alarming reality of homeless kids who are setting out to start their own families. This is new. During several years of research, we found that the proliferation of a next generation of street children is largely undocumented. Governments, NGO’s, academics, filmmakers… not even Unicef manages data on children who are born on the city streets. Statistically, they are all treated the same, while the social differences between parents and their children are enormous.

In Nicaragua, as in most countries, children and teens end up on the street because they are running away from extreme poverty, domestic violence and/or sexual abuse. Arriving alone in the city, they’ll befriend others their age and are quickly absorbed in a street community that becomes their family. Having enjoyed some years of basic education, kids tend to be between six and 12 years old when they spend their first night on a piece of cardboard under the stars. I always refer to them – quite unacademically – as the first generation. They are the ones who some years later decide to have children themselves.

The second generation – babies like Karla in Karla’s Arrival – are not on the run from some previous life. They are homeless from day one. Unlike their parents, they won’t know what it’s like to live under a roof or have a family in the traditional sense of the word (although the street community haphazardly offers some alternative). They might not ever go to school and won’t be registered as citizens of their country. Chances are that formally they won’t exist and, as a result, will have no right to education or health care.

It’s no small problem either. Estimations are that there are 75 million girls living on the world’s streets. Most of them will at least bear one child before they turn 18. This is an enormous, worldwide, complex yet unknown problem.

Ironically, and on the bright side, the baby can be part of the solution. While a young mother’s low self-esteem might inhibit her from leaving the streets, a son or daughter can mark a turning point. Their babies offer them something which will have been lacking in their own lives – unconditional love – and are seen to be more important than themselves. A desire to offer their child a better life is reason enough to seek help, which generally is not hard to come by.

For me, it goes without saying that becoming a parent is the most basic of human rights which should be available to all. Making Karla’s Arrival was all about opening a debate which revolves around the question of how we can create the conditions to make this a reality for everyone. And besides that, luckily, we came across a touching and hopeful story.

Koen Suidgeest (Amsterdam, 1967) is a Dutch filmmaker based in Madrid (Spain). He is the director of the ITVS-funed Karla’s Arrival, which will air on Link TV’s Doc Debut in May.

Thursday marks the end of the 55th San Francisco International Film Festival, which featured three ITVS funded documentary films, including Bitter Seeds, The Invisible War, and The Waiting Room.

Still from Don't Stop Believin': Everyman's Journey (credit: Ninfa Z. Bito)

The 55th San Francisco International Film Festival is closing tonight on a high note, celebrating their festival journey with…. well, Journey! After a rousing screening of Don’t Stop Believin’: Everyman’s Journey at the Castro Theatre, including what is bound to be a fascinating Q&A with director Ramona S. Diaz (director of the ITVS funded documentaries Imelda and The Learning) and all five members of the band Journey, closing night attendees will head on over to SLOANE SQUARE[D], for a night of entertainment, dancing, food, and drinks.

The past 15 days have gone by so fast that it is hard to believe that another festival has come and gone. With more than 200 films screened and more than 45 countries represented, the 55th San Francisco International Film Festival proved once again to be an extraordinary showcase of innovation and cinematic discovery.

One particular highlight for ITVS was that The Waiting Room director Peter Nicks was featured on the festival’s Scoop du Jour website, a daily video feed presenting coverage of the happenings at the festival. In the interview, Nicks discusses his documentary The Waiting Room, an intimate and intense day-in-the-life documentary portrait of the patients, doctors, nurses, and social workers at Highland Hospital in Oakland. Check out the clip after the jump:

To learn more about the 55th San Francisco International Film Festival, click here.

ITVS’s Kate Sullivan Green sits down with Theresa Loong to talk about the documentary Every Day Is a Holiday, which begins airing on Public Television May 1st.  

Filmmaker Theresa Loong

After finding her father’s secret diary from the time he was a P.O.W., Theresa Loong knew she had a story to tell.  In Every Day Is a Holiday, she documents her father’s path from being a Chinese Malaysian teenager serving in the British Royal Air Force, to being held as a P.O.W. in Japan during World War II, and his long, complicated path to U.S. citizenship that followed.

Kate Sullivan Green had the opportunity to sit down with Theresa and talk about making her first film, the ups and downs of documenting a family member, and what she learned about the challenges so many Chinese faced immigrating to America.

What stood out to you about your dad while making Every Day Is a Holiday?

His fierce, fierce, fierce determination.  I always had a sense he had a really interesting life, but one of the things I’ve taken away is how much struggle he went through to become a citizen.  That gives me more appreciation for him and for people in general who go through hardship.  I consider myself an empathetic person, but this really puts things in perspective when I am feeling down.  I have a deep respect for what he went through.

One other thing is that I didn’t realize how difficult it would be for him to relive the past.  I guess I thought he was ready to share his story, but there were times when he would say, “Oh, that’s enough” or get up and walk away.  Sometimes it was just because he was tired, but other times I’d see his eyes go to a far away place as he was actually reliving the moment.  Especially with first person narrative, we have to balance wanting to know history with sensitivity.

Does he like the film?

I was afraid to show him for a long time.  When he finally saw a fine cut of it, he laughed about certain things – nodding and laughing.  After one screening he said, “It’s the truth.”  I couldn’t quite figure it out, it seems like veiled praise, but yeah, I think he likes it.

Paul Loong salutes prior to the Memorial Day Parade in Clark, NJ

Your dad’s story is inspiring on so many levels as we see his perseverance, charisma, optimism, and ultimate success.  More broadly, this is also a story about the immigration system in the United States in the 1940s and 1950s. What’s one particularly interesting thing you learned about while making this film?

I didn’t know much about the Chinese Exclusion Act and the fact is, that after that, from 1943-1965, only 105 Chinese people were allowed to become U.S. citizens, no matter where you lived.  That was a great deterrent to getting to the United States. The Chinese Exclusion act of 1882 halted Chinese immigration and prohibited Chinese from becoming U.S. citizens.  This law was replaced with others barring Chinese immigration, until the Magnuson Act in 1943, which permitted a national quota of only 105 Chinese immigrants per year.   That was finally replaced by the Immigration Act of 1965.

The other takeaway was that during World War II, the Japanese did not sign the Geneva Convention, so even though my dad had some Red Cross packages at the camp, there were a bunch of packages they were not able to distribute.  They did have a Red Cross person visit once, but it was only meant to seem very nice.  I show those propaganda photos in the film.   

What do you hope viewers takeaway after watching?

One is to gain a greater appreciation from people who may look a certain way in everyday life.  My dad could be seen as some older fellow, a non-descript Asian guy, but if one is to perhaps take the time to listen and ask, who knows what kind of stories they have.  It can be an enlightening thing to do.

I also hope people see that Chinese-American or Asian-American identity can be complex.  My dad is ethnically Chinese but comes from Malaysia and my mom comes from Taiwan.  In the mass media, we tend to have very stereotypical viewpoints of ethnicities and religion.

The other is for viewers to walk away with a bit more knowledge about the struggle of Asian-Americans and a greater understanding of the history in the far east. It’s a politically charged issue but it’s this idea that, for instance, in Japanese textbooks they downplay the significance of what happened in World War II.  One goal with this film was to open that dialog and explain that these things actually did happen.

I hope people see that this is an American story too.

Do you have any advice for others who are making a film with a parent as the main subject?

One is perseverance and two is sensitivity.  The perseverance is that you want to tell the story, and know you should.  But you have to be sensitive to whatever they are going through, and whether they feel like talking or not.  Remember, first and foremost, that it is a family member and be loyal to that.  It’s perseverance combined with sensitivity.

Maybe three is to learn when to ask for help.  Since things can be extra personal with a family member, if you are going to be protective then you have to find the crew that you trust, or develop the skills to do it yourself.  It was great to have another camera person but it also does change the dynamic, sometimes for the better, but occasionally I would see my dad being more guarded in a moment than if it were only me. 

Paul, Anna, Joseph and Theresa Loong, 1981

As a new filmmaker, what are some important lessons you learned while making Every Day Is a Holiday?

I didn’t have much of a budget, but I didn’t let not having a skill or saying I cannot afford something stop me.  Money is a factor, but you have to figure out a way.  For instance, I couldn’t really shoot that well, so I learned.  I didn’t have much money for archival footage and research, so I went to the national archives myself.   It was a great chance to learn about how the archives work.  Once I even went with my family and found a board from one of the camps showing what the prisoners were assigned to do.  So I was able to make that part happen.

Another is to prepare and plan as much as possible, even though things crop up unexpectedly.  I don’t always follow this rule, but the more you do the easier it is.

And always follow your curiosity.

Every Day Is a Holiday begins airing on Public Television on May 1.  Check local listings. 

In a future where schools are segregated by economic status, a struggling mother must decide whether to sell her own organs to give her children a better education. Learn more about Crossover from filmmaker Tina Mabry in a recently conducted Skype interview, after the jump.

Live Social Screening of Charlie 13 with filmmaker Michael McMillian on Thursday, April 26 at 5PM PT / 8PM ET

About Charlie 13
On the eve of his 13th birthday, will Charlie Tuttle submit to a government-mandated tracking implant, or answer a more dangerous call to adventure?

About Filmmaker Michael McMillian
Michael McMillian’s film and television work includes playing Reverend Steve Newlin on HBO’s True Blood and leading roles in Dorian Blues, What I Like About You, and Saved. Other credits include Veronica Mars, The Hills Have Eyes 2, Big Love, The Mentalist, and Firefly. McMillian co-wrote and produced the award-winning short film Glock, co-wrote the full-length feature film The New Life, created and wrote the graphic novel Lucid, and co-wrote True Blood: Tainted Love.

Follow this link to the screening of Charlie 13 with filmmaker Michael McMillian.

Live Social Screening of Gunny with filmmaker Patrick Stettner on Thursday, April 26 at 5:30PM PT / 8:30PM ET

About Gunny
A young female soldier returns home after a traumatic tour of duty, taking a new medication that can selectively erase memories.

About Filmmaker Patrick Stettner
Patrick Stettner’s feature filmmaking credits include the award winning and Sundance Lab-developed The Business of Strangers, starring Julia Stiles and Stockard Channing, and The Night Listener, starring Robin Williams and Toni Collette. He has won numerous awards from the Paris Film Festival and San Francisco International Film Festival and two awards at the Palm Springs International Film Festival for his thesis short, Flux. In addition to filmmaking, he teaches directing at his alma mater, Columbia University.

Follow this link to the screening of Gunny with filmmaker Patrick Stettner.

The Diverse Muslim Voices Exchange was held at the Doris Duke Foundation for Islamic Art at Shangri-La.

Collaboration is the best teacher and earlier this month, my classroom was a recreated 17th century Mughal garden overlooking the crisp blue ocean in Honolulu. Life is tough. I was fortunate enough to be included among the six filmmakers working on Muslim themed documentaries invited to fly to out to Hawaii for a 3-day meeting of the minds at the Diverse Muslim Voices Exchange. The event was hosted by The Doris Duke Foundation of Islamic Art at Shangri-La, the residence of the late Ms. Duke, which houses one of the world’s most unique private collections of Islamic Art.

We were invited to workshop and pitch our stories to funders from Ford Foundation, Tribeca Film Institute, Black Public Media, and the Center for Asian American Media.  I had come to pitch a film I have been researching for four years about men who convert to Islam in prison and their journey transitioning out of incarceration.

This was my first experience among established non-fiction filmmakers, all of us pitching our projects to the same funders.  The group had no shortage of talent, such as Jed Rothenstein who had been nominated for an Oscar for a short doc, and Hemal Trivedi who was the editor of Saving Face, the 2012 Oscar winning short doc. How was I supposed to compete with that?

Filmmakers Justin Mashouf and Emad Burnat.

Then I met Emad Burnat, a quiet Palestinian farmer turned filmmaker.  He was invited to Diverse Muslim Voices Exchange as a case study of a successful non-fiction storyteller.  Emad directed a feature documentary called Five Broken Cameras, which chronicled an Israeli separation barrier being built in his Palestinian village.  He bought his first camera to capture the story, during which he was shot at, detained, and beaten up by Israeli soldiers and settlers. The film earned Emad the World Cinema Directing Award at Sundance this year.

The night before I was scheduled to pitch my film, he invited some of us to swim in the ocean.  I asked him if he swam much back home, remembering mid-question that in the West Bank has no access to the sea for Palestinians. I tried to retract my question while he laughed a little.  After a long night of picking his brain, I finally told him that I was nervous about pitching.

“Don’t be nervous.  It’s your story, so why should you be nervous?”

His calm approach gave me a sense of ease. The next morning, as each filmmaker presented their projects, the vibe from the panel of funders was much more constructive and supportive than I had expected. I realized that the Diverse Muslim Voices Exchange was not meant to have us pitted against one another but to allow us to share our stories in a way that nurtured our respective processes in filmmaking.

Filmmakers and ITVS staff at the 2012 Diverse Muslim Voices Exchange.

As I sat with Emad after the pitch session, talking about our films and looking over the Pacific, I thought about my career back on the mainland. Coming from a television background in LA, where documentary concepts spark, fizzle, and are replaced in an instant, I often find the task of producing sincere stories about Muslims to be impossible. The Diverse Muslim Voices Exchange allowed us an opportunity to better produce these stories and to share moments of solidarity with one another as we face many of the same challenges. Collaborations like this are rare and I sincerely appreciate the efforts of ITVS in curating such creative people, and for letting me be a part of it.

Follow Justin Mashouf on Facebook and Twitter.

Photos: Courtesy of Idris Abdul-Zahir

On the eve of his 13th birthday, will Charlie Tuttle submit to a government-mandated tracking implant, or answer a more dangerous call to adventure? Learn more about Charlie 13 from filmmaker Michael McMillain in a recently conducted Skype interview, after the jump.

A young female soldier returns home after a traumatic tour of duty, taking a new medication that can selectively erase memories. Learn more about Gunny from filmmaker Patrick Stettner in a recently conducted Skype interview, after the jump.

Learn more about When the Drum is Beating on the Independent Lens website.