In Cinema Her Way, Marya E. Gates interviews visionary women directors about their inspirations and struggles. It is filled with wonderful stories of determination, resilience, leadership, and partnerships. In an interview, Gates discussed her year of watching only female-directed films, the difference between the directors who worked in Hollywood and those in other countries, and the answer that surprised her the most.
What led you to decide to watch only women-directed films for a year?
It really started because of two documentaries I saw in 2013: Judy Chaikin’s “The Girls in the Band” and Sini Anderson’s “The Punk Singer.” Both films were in one sense or another about the various ways that women and their accomplishments are written out of history. It made me wonder how many women writers I hadn’t been taught in school and of course how many women filmmakers I had never heard about, even as someone who had always known the names of at least a few dozen women directors. That led me to launching a blog series in 2014 called Female Filmmaker Friday (which later briefly morphed into a podcast) where I highlighted a film from a female filmmaker each week.
While I was working on that I discovered the films of Susan Seidelman and was shocked to learn that she had made five whole feature films in the 1980s. At that point I was still operating under the mistaken idea that most women only make one film or that only a few women had made more than one. I also really loved her films and got mad that I had somehow spent nearly thirty years of my life without her films in it. Around that same time there were several lists of “essential films by women” popping up on a lot of major film websites, but it was always the same twelve or so names. It felt repetitive and not helpful at all. Also, several “best films of all time” lists would only have maybe one film directed by a woman on it. I felt like there was no way that could be true.
So first in late 2014 I checked how many films by women were available just on Netflix (this was before they had a lot of original content), and found a little over a hundred. I figured between that, the movies being released in theaters in Los Angeles where I was living at the time, and the other streaming services that existed then (namely, Hulu and Amazon Prime), I could watch a film a day directed by a woman and I wouldn’t run out. That way I could expand these paltry lists and also fill in my own gaps. So it was partially out of social protest, and partially as a year of discovery.
When you first invited me to participate in Women’s Writers Week in 2021, I wrote a look-back piece on what I had seen change in all the years since that first project, and it’s been great to see that not only are more films by women being added to greatest films of all time lists (or topping them in case of the 2022 Sight and Sound poll), but there are so many more older films available on streaming services and being restored and released on new Blu-ray editions, and new films being released in theaters and even nominated for multiple Oscars. If you wanted to repeat the experiment now I think you could probably watch one film a day directed by a woman for a decade or more and not run out of films.
What themes or similarities did you discern over the course of that year?
Honestly, I did such a wide array of types of films and filmmakers, there weren’t many similarities. But one thing that I noticed then and remains true now is that women are more likely to cast more than one woman as a lead or major supporting character in their films, whereas that’s not always the case with films directed by men.
I was especially interested in the variety of responses to your question about casting, from posting on Facebook to calling on friends to a more traditional approach with a casting director. What did these differences reveal about the directors?
I love that you noticed that. I think what it speaks to is the variety of filmmakers represented in the book. I really wanted to have women from several generations and with varying backgrounds in terms of the kind of films they make, including independent and experimental filmmakers, along with filmmakers who work within the Hollywood studio system. It also showed that regardless of the genre or budget, every filmmaker has a different process when it comes to both casting their films, and then working with their actors once the camera rolls.
How was the experience of directors outside the US different from those who had to navigate Hollywood?
The consensus is that it’s hard to make a movie no matter what, but that Hollywood in particular has a lot more hurdles. Some of the women started working in the 1980s and faced sexist institutions that did not take them seriously. Gillian Armstrong, who is Australian, in particular tells a wild story about an old school male Hollywood studio executive who asked to meet with her after the success of “My Brilliant Career” at Cannes who would not even look her in the face during the whole meeting. Several of the American filmmakers I spoke with talked about facing several different kinds of barriers, including sexism, racism, and even ageism while trying to get projects off the ground. Sexism, whether while making a film or in the reception once a film is finished, is something that seems to transcend borders and happens to a lot of women no matter what country they are working in. What I found inspiring about every woman I spoke with is that all of them either overcome these hurdles through persistence or are still pushing against them in the hopes that they can still make films that remain true to their artistic ambitions.
You spoke to some directors who worked with huge stars on studio films and some who worked on micro-budget, very personal films. What was the lowest-budget film you discussed with a director?
This is a hard one answer, but I think not counting the documentaries and shorts, the lowest budgets films discussed in the book are probably Bette Gordon’s “Variety,” the films Katt Shea made with Roger Corman (“Stripped To Kill,” “Dance of the Damned,” “Stripped to Kill II: Live Girls,” and “Streets”), Isabel Sandoval’s “Señorita,” and Josephine Decker’s “Butter on the Latch.”
What were the biggest opportunities and obstacles with big-budget features?
Karyn Kusama has a lot of wonderful things to say about working in Hollywood during the transition between shooting on film and shooting on digital. She got to work with a lot of new technology on both sides of the transition and I think she found that very rewarding.
Other filmmakers shared stories with me about how hard it can be to get their specific voice heard when pitching studios, especially when they are up against a system that is still mostly run by white men.
What’s your favorite question to ask?
For this project I really enjoyed asking when the filmmakers first realized that they wanted to be a filmmaker. Everyone had such different answers. Afterwards, I found their specific answers really illuminating to think about in relation to their filmographies.
What answer surprised you the most?
Two different filmmakers who made two very different films both cited Thomas Vinterberg’s “The Celebration” as an influence on their respective films and it was just so fun to see a connection like that between two filmmakers with a third filmmaker. It’s part of the great conversation between art and artists, even when they don’t know they are communicating with each other. I got that same joy whenever one of the women I interviewed mentioned another filmmaker featured in the book as an influence. It was a real joy to slowly reveal the way all these women had been inspiring and speaking to each other, sometimes in the same filmmaking movements, but often without even knowing it and across countries and even decades.
The women directors had a variety of backgrounds including working on craft jobs, even dance. How did they make use of those experiences?
I think each filmmaker took their life experiences and put it into their films. The filmmakers who I spoke to for the book were chosen because I felt like they were very personal filmmakers, whether they were expressing their point of view by making small independent films or big blockbusters.
I especially liked the answers to your question about the influences. Everyone you talked to was very generous and there were some great answers. Who was mentioned most frequently?
There were about fifty different filmmakers mentioned as either an influence or as someone readers should seek out, but the filmmaker who was mentioned the most often was Chloé Zhao. Specifically, her early films “Songs My Brothers Taught Me” and “The Rider.” Zhao was actually originally going to be in the book, but had to back out due to scheduling conflicts. Which was disappointing for sure, but I’m glad her work is well represented regardless.
Which of these directors would you consider major influences on the way you see films?
I think each of these filmmakers have taught me a lot about filmmaking, both from when I first saw their films and now after having spoken to them more in depth. However, if I had to choose one to highlight it would be Gillian Armstrong. In the book’s introduction I wrote a bit about how I saw her film “Little Women” with my mother in theaters when I was eight years old. It was incredibly impactful not only because it showed me that women could make films, but it also presented a wonderfully complex and, as she calls herself, hopelessly flawed role model in Winona Ryder’s Jo March. I will be forever grateful.
Cinema Her Way: Visionary Female Directors in Their Own Words is Marya E. Gates’ gorgeously designed new book of insightful interviews with women directors, from those who worked with big Hollywood budgets to those who make micro-budget indies. There is a wide variety in their perspectives and experiences, but some themes come through powerfully, especially their pleasure in discussing the women who influenced and inspired them (see more on this in our interview with the author). These three examples illustrate their differences as they respond to Gates’ question about casting.
Gillian Armstrong on replacing an actress she calls “Jan,” who was originally cast as the lead in “My Brilliant Career”
And this one executive producer was a fan of Old Hollywood. So, he wanted 35mm screen tests. We had been doing tests on video then. He said he’d give us the money, since after all, this girl was going to carry the film. So, Jan, who had been attached for six months because we cast her and then we’d lost funding, comes and does this test in costume and makeup. Margaret and I were sitting in the theater, watching her tests back in the dark, and we both looked at each other, and it was like the biggest shock of my life. That’s the thing that I’ve told film students, that on the big screen the camera looks into the person, and you get a sense of their soul. And what we saw in this girl was a deep unhappiness, and the whole point of the film, in the end, when she makes that very tough decision about whether to stay with Harry, or whether to fight for her career as a writer, you’ve got to feel that she’s going to do it, that it’s going to be worthwhile.
Martha Coolidge on giving early roles to actors who later became stars, including Nicolas Cage, Halle Berry, and Val Kilmer
I think people who are more attuned to people’s communication with each other, and people’s emotional lives, can recognize the talent of a person when they come into the room. There are many things that sway us. So, for example, if you lust after a certain type, you might go for a certain type. But mostly, I think it’s important to listen, really listen to every actor as they speak. You can tell how much they believe in what they’re telling you. That’s a very good place to start.
Josephine Decker on casting outside of the usual channels
I wouldn’t call it traditional. I wrote a bunch of Facebook posts asking if anyone wanted to be in my movie. We didn’t have a casting director. I put the word out and asked a lot of people for recommendations. I sent specific friends the role, and one of them who is a performance artist pointed me toward Sophie [Traub]. Ever since then Sophie has been a very close friend and collaborator. I’m so grateful that we got to do that film together.
We thank Marya E. Gates and copyright holder Rizzoli for permission to print this excerpt