Hello Brooklyn #10 - Imani Dennison e Robin Williams

“We’re all not crazy hormonal women just having sex and fucking shit up"

It had been raining hard all evening. The wind chill factor was ridiculous. Fortunately for me, I was in good company. Across the table in a cool Williamsburg restaurant there were Imani Dennison, a cinematographer/photographer and Robin Williams, a writer, and actress. Close friends, collaborators and young Brooklynites.

The kind of warmth they were feeling, no weather woes could deter. Shortly after they’d concluded their second and final sold out screening of their short film, Garden of Eden, it was chosen for the 2017 Creative Minds Short Film Corner program at the Cannes Film Festival. A coming of age story about the struggles of coming to terms with being black, queer and female in New York City.

A narrative I had discovered, mirrored so deeply the lives of Dennison, Williams and the collective surrounding them. Discover it with us.

#1 Your screening was more than just a showcase of your work, but also a showcase for other diverse local talents. How did you find each other? Do you consider the community you’re a part of an essential part of your film and your style of filmmaking?

Imani Dennison: All the artists tonight were friends, we met through other mutual friends and from going out to different art events in the city.

Robin Williams: Our community is definitely a big part of our filmmaking for the both of us because we feel like there is a poor representation of queer cinema out there and the ones that you do see are either poorly made or don’t tell the story the way it really is. Another thing that was really important in Garden of Eden was that we didn’t want to overly sexualize the characters. A lot of lesbian web series are all about sex. We wanted to make it a point that we didn’t do that because there’s something that happens before sex. What happens when you first find out you’re attracted to women? What happens when you have your first crush? There’s a point before that, that doesn’t get shown. We do have healthy relationships. We’re all not crazy hormonal women just having sex and fucking shit up. The thing that’s sad is it’s portrayed by us. We put these stories out that are lies. I’m interested in putting things out from the other side. The love stories. The things that actually do happen that folks don’t really talk about.

#2 How do both of your personal stories tie in?

ID: I relate to the film in the sense of actually being Julia [the main character in the film] and not really knowing how to navigate my sexuality. Especially in high school. In the film, she’s just graduated and she's navigating that space of becoming OK with yourself, the pressures of your family and that kind of influences. Struggling to know where you fit in. To me when I read the story, I knew I wanted to be a part of the project in some way because I saw myself in the film... even though now I know where I fit.

RW: I’m a first generation born in America, both my parents are Jamaican. Everyone knows Jamaicans are very very very homophobic. I didn’t have the experience with Julia getting kicked out but it was definitely a fear of mine. Which is why I didn’t come out to my family until I was 26. When I came out I was out of state and financially independent. I made sure of that before I came out.

#3 The last performers at your screening talked about their struggles as black queer women in mainstream society. I imagine that in the entertainment industry you’ve encountered similar struggles and now, both of your screenings sold out. As young filmmakers were you surprised?

RW: I’m very new to film. This is my first film project I’ve ever done. As far as acting goes, every time I go on these casting websites all the castings for white actors are good roles, like teachers, and principals while for a black person, it’s like a crackhead or a slave. I actually did get approached about a gig to play a slave. It’s never anything of substance.

ID: Just existing as a black woman in the creative industries, especially the film one, a field that is dominated by white men, it’s been extremely hard. I’m constantly being spoken to in some condescending tone or it’s assumed that I don’t know what I’m doing... It’s just such a bro club, such a men’s game. And that's also why I don’t even have the words to describe how I feel about the sold out screenings. I’m trying to put this in a very literal sense, without having to use a generic expression. I feel like I’m in a dream that I don’t really want to wake up from. Like, damn, people are really coming out and fucking with black queer content, black queer love. It feels amazing to have people come and show up. There were a lot of people that came to the screening twice.

And they paid.

ID: AND THEY PAID.

#4 You probably get asked this all the time, but why Brooklyn over somewhere else?

RW: I was born and raised in the Bronx. I love films that capture the feeling of the city that they’re in. As a New Yorker, my first film had to be in New York. There’s nothing worse than watching a movie that’s supposed to be based somewhere and it’s not realistic.

ID: Making a film in a country where LGBTQ [Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer] youth homelessness is something crazy like 40%, I think it’s important to make a film like this in New York City.