The intricacies of the human experience are brought to light under Alba Roland Mejia’s spotlight.
The Moirai Films writer, producer, and director has focused her lens on distinct stories that go untold, in particular representing the manifold ways Blackness interacts with the world – with the climate crisis, with Burning Man festival, with the Bay Area. It’s a fresh filmmaking perspective grounded by a depth that resonates with her audiences.
It’s garnered praise from the industry too: her thesis film, ‘My Own Mecca’, won several awards including Best Student Film at the 2021 BronzeLens Film Festival, while her following film, ‘Blackness is Everything’, earned the Vimeo Staff Pick Best of the Year and landed Alba the title of one of Vimeo's Best New Creators of 2022.
Horror buffs will be pleased to hear that an eerie psychological thriller will soon grace Alba’s already impressive portfolio. Titled ‘Greetings from St. Helena’, the folk horror taps into the heart of the Black horror renaissance, as a teenage boy comes to terms with his new role as the neighbourhood enforcer. Exploring class disparity against the deceptively picturesque background of Napa Valley, themes of greed, identity, and manipulation envelop a story of survival in an unaccepting world.
Catching up with the director while she’s on the rise, LBB’s Zara Naseer sat down with Alba this week, digging deep into her filmmaking methodology, triumphs, and tribulations.
Above: 'Blackness is Everything'
Alba> This is a big question. First, the audience needs to be able to see themselves in the subjects. This is of course done in the writing and performance but it can also be done in other ways such as wardrobe.
There was a very distinct way that Dre and Walt dressed in ‘My Own Mecca’ that had the local Bay Area audience excited because it not only geographically placed them, but also showed the difference in their age and the worlds they come from. This small detail helped explain the disparities between the men which I’m sure was appreciated by the local audience.
Sometimes it’s in the edit and the music as seen in ‘Blackness is Everything’. The drums that Ambrose [Akinmusire] blessed us with were so uplifting (even triumphant at times) it helped push the narrative of how proud we were of everyone on that screen and how much love we had for them. The edit of the piece had this poetic way of slowly showing the differences of the subjects in the beginning then ramping up towards the end to show how all the subjects share a similar experience.
The colour choice played a huge part in that emotional connection as well as black and white is the unofficial staple of Bay Area filmmaking. It was a love letter written to a specific demographic and that love was felt.
At the end of the day the most powerful tool is the actor’s performance without a doubt. I have been lucky enough to work with amazing talent who have consumed their roles and guided me along the way. I have always taken the approach of collaboration when it comes to character development which, in my opinion, has always strengthened the roles.
Alba> I can talk about my favourite films or directors but the honest answer is that my family first inspired me to become a director. My father would follow us around as kids with this ridiculously big VHS camcorder and as a family we would sit and watch his home movies. I remember that experience being filled with so much joy and connection and wanting to continue that practice.
It was when I saw my older brother pursuing his filmmaking career that I realised that it was a possibility. I followed his steps and took my first film college course and continued following my passion from there. What continues to inspire me today is my dedication to shining light on untold stories. I naturally have a strong desire for justice, so I can’t help but to include some sort of activism into my work. It can be seen in the types of stories I choose to tell, the people whom I choose to cast, the locations that I choose to shoot, etc. Film has the unique ability to shine a light on important topics, spark conversation, and even inspire change and I feel like being a director is me doing my part to ensure our stories get told the right way – with patience, love, and understanding.
Alba> I would have to say the project that makes me the most proud is my smallest project, ‘A Letter To Burning Man’, because of how big of an obstacle it was to complete. It was the first time I had truly experienced professional heartbreak. The film was originally supposed to be a feature, but it eventually lost steam and the year of prep that I put in was gone. I invested so much of myself into something just to watch it wither away in front of my eyes. It got to the point where the loss manifested as physical pain in my chest and I was ready to walk away from filmmaking altogether.
I eventually was able to talk myself into completing a shorter version of the film just to see if I could – to prove to myself that I was capable and to prove to everyone who said I couldn’t that it was possible. I was told that it was impossible to get access to Burning Man, impossible to get a film permit as a first timer, and impossible to get anyone to agree to be on camera. I was told I wouldn’t be able to survive in the climate and if I could, then my gear absolutely wouldn’t. I was told the seven consecutive days of inescapable 90 degree weather would melt my rolls of film and the ‘playa dust’ would destroy my engine. I was told I would never be able to get on an airplane for the aerial shots and that the hours-long dust storms would blow my camp away. I was told that the project was impossible and I was abandoned. Everything they said was true – but I did it anyway. So I named the film, ‘I Can Do Anything - A Letter To Burning Man’.
Above: 'I Can Do Anything - A Letter To Burning Man'
Alba> The toughest to get through definitely had to be ‘Blackness is Everything’. The film pitch was so very personal to me as it was originally pitched as ‘Black Men are Everything’, an ode to my late father who experienced stereotypes and prejudice for simply existing in America as a Black man. At the time, I had not yet fully accepted the passing of my father so sharing the pitch was an extremely vulnerable experience. I wasn’t sure how BAYCAT would receive my vulnerability – luckily they received it with care and guidance. That guidance brought on the next challenge which was to deliver the project within a month. That meant I had to prep, scout, cast, budget, coordinate, shoot, ship film and receive digital scans, edit, mix, and export within that time frame. Tough is an understatement for this project, but with the help of the team we were able to pull through and put together something we are truly proud of.
Alba> Picture ‘Get Out’ and ‘Midsommar’ in California’s Wine Country. The film is exploring how people from different backgrounds exist in and perceive the same space. We’re following two families as they navigate their disparate worlds, while they’re dealing with the social and economic pressures that come with land ownership.
Alba> The key to unsettling your audience is in subverting their expectations of who or what the true villain is. A thrilling chase scene can really get people, or a gore scene or something supernatural – but what scares me the most is disturbance shown through human behaviour. What are the real intentions behind the villains, and why do they feel strongly enough to act on these feelings? That’s what scares me the most in film. It’s not the dad in ‘Get Out’, it’s this entire culture created by the family to actively seek out Black people to literally embody them. It’s not Leatherface that scares me, it's an entire family that has these impulses and desires that fully carry out their desires with no regard to human life. The capability of humans unfiltered scares me.
Alba> This one is a little tough for me. I’ve noticed that all of the projects I have done have been sort of a therapeutic release in some way. They have been issues that I needed to sort through or conversations that I haven’t had the courage to actualize. A part of me feels like I have subconsciously attracted my previous projects due to my need to go through that therapy at that certain stage in my life. So when I think about the projects I aspire to work on in my future, it scares me a bit because I know the inner work that’s going to need to be done in order to get there.
For instance, I’m developing a feature that highlights motherhood and immigration – a subject that hits home for me coming from an immigrant family myself. So far I haven’t been able to get through a writing session without getting emotional but I know the power of these character-driven stories and how they help the audience feel seen.
In short, I aspire to work on projects that have the power to bring worlds together – to bridge gaps. I feel that starts with awareness and that awareness can sometimes feel vulnerable. Being seen is vulnerable but it’s a necessary therapy. This has me circling back to my desire to use my platform to the best of my ability to shine a light on untold stories in hopes of making that connection of worlds. By worlds I can mean something as small as the different worlds of a mother and a daughter or something bigger like the different demographics depicted in ‘Greetings From St. Helena’.