INSPIRATION / ROB URBAN
Ava
DuVernay
Filmmaker.
Creator of possibilities.
There is a cinema at ARRAY’s Los Angeles campus named for Ava DuVernay’s aunt Amanda, who helped her fall in love with movies.
The Amanda Cinema seats 50 people. It hosts work by filmmakers whose stories have too often struggled for space. I find something beautiful in that connection: a person helps a child discover an art, and the child eventually builds a place where other people can discover it too.
DuVernay’s work makes that possibility practical. She directs films and creates television. She also attends to the conditions that let other artists work and let audiences find them. The room, the directing assignment and the distribution agreement belong to the same ambition.
DuVernay founded ARRAY in 2011. Its work spans distribution, production, programming and a nonprofit arm. That combination addresses a stubborn gap: making a film and making it possible for someone to encounter the film are different jobs.
WHEN THE EDIT IS FINISHED
There is still
an audience to find.
A directing credit identifies who made a film. It does not explain how the film will reach a room full of people. Ava DuVernay has made that second problem part of her work.
A finished film still needs a path into theaters, streaming libraries, classrooms, community screenings and the attention of people who do not already know its director. Discovery is not a compliment the industry gives good work automatically. It is an organized activity.
The ARRAY Releasing catalog brings independent films by Black artists, people of color and women into circulation. Its booking page offers distinct routes for theatrical exhibition, public screenings and educational copies with public-performance rights for selected titles.
The request form gets wonderfully specific: the host organization, proposed date, expected audience, admission plans, screening format and whether the event will be indoors, outdoors or virtual. Those are the details that turn enthusiasm for a film into a possible engagement.
A museum screening and a theatrical run need different arrangements. So does a library that wants to keep a film available for future programs. Giving those uses a visible route matters because discovery can begin with one person who has a room, an audience and a reason to bring them together.
I admire the patience behind making these arrangements visible. A person who wants to share a film should have a next step. The details provide one, carrying the story from the filmmaker’s hope into somebody else’s plans.
QUEEN SUGAR
Trust,
with a
directing
credit.
Queen Sugar gives that commitment a different form. Across seven seasons, the series used women directors. ReFrame’s case study records 42 directors, 39 making their first entry into episodic television directing, and describes the mentoring work of DuVernay and veteran director Neema Barnette.
The experience had consequences beyond the individual episodes. ReFrame reports that many directors gained guild access, health insurance or representation. A creative opportunity could also become a more workable career.
Those details matter. Encouragement is welcome, but a directing credit travels with a person. So do the working relationships and the experience of bringing a production through to completion. A subsequent employer has something concrete to recognize.
Writers, department heads, actors, producers, crews and directors made the episodes. DuVernay’s authority mattered because she used it to choose a working structure in which more of those people could exercise theirs.
What I admire is her readiness to attach responsibility to belief. Hiring someone says that their judgment belongs in the work, where it will affect performances, schedules and the finished episode. It gives confidence somewhere to become visible.
Remember who
was already here.
When Vanity Fair spoke with DuVernay in 2016, she brought up Julie Dash while discussing her own milestones. She recognized an earlier filmmaker’s brilliance and the different reception that talent might have received in another moment.
I like the generosity and accuracy of that acknowledgment. A breakthrough belongs to the person who achieves it, and it can also reveal how much talent was already there. Remembering those earlier artists makes the achievement feel connected to a longer human effort.
It changes what success might ask of someone, too. The next useful act may be helping an existing film find viewers, or trusting a director whose ability has outgrown the opportunities offered to her. Progress has people’s names attached.
AMANDA CINEMA
A room.
A date.
A reason
to gather.
ARRAY gives those intentions several places to live. Releasing handles distribution; Filmworks makes screen work; Alliance provides a nonprofit home for its mission; and the Creative Campus supports gathering and programming.
A cinema gives the ambition a physical scale. There are seats to fill, a program to choose and a date when the work has to be ready. Between screenings, someone has to keep making those choices. Institutional work includes that repetition, long after an opening-night photograph has done its job.
That repetition is part of what moves me about the Amanda Cinema. A room named for a person who nurtured one child’s interest can keep extending the invitation. Another filmmaker, another screening, another audience member whose attention might take an unexpected turn.
A physical place makes a promise unusually concrete. Someone has to choose the work and welcome the people. Someone has to make the next event possible. The value of the institution accumulates through those acts.
Leave a route
someone can use.
DuVernay’s example makes me think about the life of a story after the artist has done the obvious creative work. Who will see it? Who can bring it to their community? What will a participant be able to do afterward?
Those questions are full of possibility. A filmmaker’s success can leave a route that other filmmakers use. A single directing job can change the next conversation about someone’s ability. A room can give people a reason to gather around work they would never have encountered alone.
This is why I admire her. She follows an idea into the arrangements it needs, including the unglamorous ones. Her imagination reaches beyond the frame to the people who might make the next story, and the people waiting to see it.
The next film does not have to begin by inventing every part of its own route.
The work behind the story
What is ARRAY?
ARRAY is an arts and social impact collective founded by Ava DuVernay in 2011. Its work includes film distribution, film and television production, public programming and nonprofit initiatives.
What is the Amanda Cinema?
The Amanda Cinema is a 50-seat theater at ARRAY’s Los Angeles Creative Campus. It is named for DuVernay’s late aunt, who helped nurture her love of cinema.
Why is Queen Sugar significant for women directors?
Queen Sugar used women directors across its seven seasons. ReFrame records 42 directors, including 39 first-time episodic television directors, and describes mentorship and practical career benefits associated with the work.
Sources: ARRAY’s accounts of its mission, campus, film catalog and screening process; ReFrame’s Queen Sugar case study; and Yohana Desta’s 2016 interview with DuVernay for Vanity Fair. Links are included throughout.
For filmmakers developing both a body of work and the business around it, my film director and producer consulting covers positioning, professional visibility and strategic direction.
I’m Rob Urban. I write about the decisions that help worthwhile ideas reach people. Read more about my work or get in touch about writing and consulting.