After the unexpected death of his father, medical student Iddrisu (Jacob Ayanaba) is forced to return to his village in order to see that his family will survive. They live in the Ghanaian village of Nakom, which is also the name of the film by Kelly Daniella Norris and TW Pittman, where time seems to have stood still. The community relies on farming, and respect for family and tradition is the most important thing, leading Iddrisu to wonder whether his life in the big city is better, or just different. Beautifully lensed by Robert Geile, Nakom is a universal story of loss and how much home can hurt. The film made its premiere at the Berlin Film Festival and is also a selection of New Directors/New Films. I had the chance to speak to the filmmakers about shooting in Ghana, and the themes that unite their small, but impressive filmography.
People in our culture are very sensitive about who tells whose story. Were you concerned that people would react negatively to the film since you’re not from Ghana?
TW Pittman: I was considered as part of that community, the film is very specific, it’s about this community, it’s not trying to tell a story about Africa or Ghana. My co-writer is a native of this community so he was instrumental, I think if we hadn’t had this connection of years, making the film would be impossible. I hope that shows in the fabric of the film. As far as the broader question about who tells our stories, I think it’s a complicated one, Kelly is my longtime collaborator and we are aware of this, Kelly’s capacity for empathy is immeasurable. We also wanted to subvert the Western gaze in this film, we wanted to call into question the idea of living the West has established.
I love that you brought that up, because there are so many things that the film never explains. I didn’t grow up in the States and watching movies about American life no one ever explains to you for instance why there are kids riding bikes in the street...the fact that you don’t need to explain anything about things that are different in Ghana, was beautiful. It should serve as an invitation for people to go and learn more.
Kelly Daniela Norris: I’m glad you said that, I think explaining would be the job of an ethnographic film, something like what Robert Gardner would make in which the foreignness is explained to the audience. That can be very condescending and doesn’t put faith on audiences who have an innate desire to connect with what you’re seeing. We also wanted to show the natural flow of lives, you don’t need to have that explained, you just need to observe it.
The location itself must’ve also affected the production, how would you say the very specific logistics affect the way the film looks?
Kelly Daniela Norris: The film is a reflection of its unique shoot, both films Trav and I shot were made in different countries, and we think the script tells you how to make the film. This movie was never going to be a conventional LA-made film, the job descriptions were very fuzzy, occasionally an actor would do something not in the description of an actor. Nakom has no electricity, no running water, so electricity was a major obstacle but you find ways around it, we got a generator from Togo, it was a headache (laughs) and it wasn’t always reliable, we used bikes to transport our equipment, we got used to fixing flat tires for instance. It was all these little unique things, each production has its own fingerprint, this one all the more so because of how extraordinary Nakom is.
TW Pittman: Most of the locations in the village were biking distance from each other, if we had more money for example, we had the idea that we wouldn’t be able to shoot in Nakom itself, but we realized each town had a different feeling from each other. So we made the decision to work and live in this village, there was only five of us not from Ghana, everyone else was local. If we had more money we might have stayed outside the village, there was a nice guest house in the next town, but that’s something that would have changed our relationship to the community itself. Being outside, coming in, having money to spend would have been an element of separation. I think living there created a bond that helped the film.
I watched your previous film Sombras de Azul, and thought wow, these filmmakers sure love shooting in challenging places, so hats off for the Werner Herzog-ian spirit, it’s like you’re living the life of documentary filmmakers, but you make fiction features. Is that right?
Kelly Daniela Norris: I think that’s a keen observation, both Sombras and Nakom have very different stories, but they have in common something that came organically which was that we couldn’t control every single aspect of production, so that gives it the layer of the documentary, even though it’s a fiction. Like we’re molding a fiction world, in a documentary space. In Nakom there were people in bikes in the back, they were not positioned there, they’re woven into the story of Nakom itself, and we were positioning our fiction world around them. One of my professors said Trav and I were like Neorealists, I never thought of that, but I can see how we take a place at its most organic state and turn it into fiction.
Both films are also about homecomings, what keeps bringing you to this theme?
TW Pittman: Probably my own experience and sense of obligation to family. That’s something I feel very powerfully, who hasn’t? I’ve been in a position where I’ve been a caregiver to my mother, that I’ve been resentful almost because they come from a sense of obligation. In Nakom this sense of obligation is even more extreme, in the States it’s expected, that sense of family as being something non-negotiable feels a little more tenuous and conditional, but in Nakom you would never feel that way. It’s the most communitarian place I’ve ever lived in, so the story in the film has happened more than once. I tried to put as much of myself as I could into the character, as of this idea of the resentment he feels being back, and gradually lashing out at his family over the first couple of acts of the story. Then he becomes more appreciative which is something we all strive for.
Kelly Daniela Norris: Both films are about homecoming but they begin with deaths that happen before the film begins. I see them both as stories of processing grief, and that often involves going to beginnings or home.
My grandma always said after a while the only time you saw family was either funerals or weddings, which I always thought was so morbid…
Kelly Daniela Norris: (Laughs) I can see that being true, especially the more individualistic each society is.
Can you talk about how you split the tasks as co-directors? Is that even a thing? Or do you both tell people what to do at the same time?
TW Pittman: We try to avoid telling people what to do at the same time.
Kelly Daniela Norris: But it sometimes happens.
TW Pittman: Once we were doing a night scene with a lot of the actors, we did a take which went well, and then very organically we took on very different sections of the scene and we were discussing notes with different actors. It was one of those moments when co-directing was beneficial. We often divide tasks too, Kelly works with the DP, I was doing more work with the logistics, making sure actors were there, we were also doing translations which was another way of writing, because the language in the film isn’t standardized, so we made translations in real time. Kelly and I have been collaborating for almost ten years now, so it’s second nature by now.
Kelly Daniela Norris: Because of the longevity of our history together and how we care for each other, we never have to stop to review what the other was adding. There’s an incredible amount of trust, we don’t second guess each other, we’re so compatible in our vision and goals. No matter how we split the tasks we know the other person is working towards meeting that goal. I’m lucky.
