Category Archives: Dara Kell

Dara Kell – M&G 200 Young South Africans

http://ysa2013.mg.co.za/dara-kell/

Dara Kell: Documentary Film Maker

You can learn a lot from a filmmaker’s credits. Dara Kell give credit where credit is long overdue – gay rights, domestic violence and shack-dweller associations such as Abahlali baseMjondolo – the focus of her award-winning documentary, Dear Mandela. Based in New York, this Rhodes University graduate spent more than four years travelling, filming, editing, even risking her life, to capture the heart of the movement but also the democracy that drives its success and South Africa’s housing failures. Dear Mandela has been screened in 28 countries and translated into eight languages. It was named Best South African Documentary at the Durban International Film Festival and won the Grand Jury Prize at the Brooklyn Film Festival. Yet Kell cites winning the community’s trust as her proudest moment. Making the invisible visible is what she does so passionately, or, as one audience member puts it: “There is something we have that’s beautiful, even though we are shack-dwellers, even though people might not notice us.”

Cat Pritchard

POV: Dear Mandela: A South African Film Finds an American Audience

http://www.pbs.org/pov/blog/2013/01/dear-mandela-a-south-african-film-finds-an-american-audience/#.UQdGxUp2FnY

Dear Mandela: A South African Film Finds an American Audience

In this guest post, Dara Kell wrote in to POV’s blog to tell us about her experience self-distributing the documentary Dear Mandela, co-directed by Christopher Nizza. The film airs on Black Public Media’s AfroPoP on Tuesday, January 29, 2013.

We look back at history because the past becomes a mirror, helping us to see our modern selves more clearly. In the same way, looking outside of our own country can help illuminate, challenge and re-frame. The documentary Dear Mandela, which I made in South Africa together with my husband and co-director Christopher Nizza, will air for American audiences on public television for the first time on Tuesday, January 29, 2013. It is part of the 2013 season of the documentary series AfroPoP: The Ultimate Cultural Exchange.

The film follows young people resisting mass eviction from their homes in the shantytowns of Durban, South Africa. They are members of South Africa’s largest social movement of the poor, Abahlali baseMjondolo (Zulu for “Residents of the Shacks”). We filmed for four years as they took the government to the highest court in the country, won their case and got the dangerously regressive “Slums Act” scrapped from the books – saving thousands from eviction. Like so many South Africans in recent times, they have paid a heavy price for their defiance.

Dear Mandela has universal themes — justice, dignity, courage, sacrifice. Still, without a direct link to the United States, we grappled with how to make it relevant for American audiences. How could we use the film to engage young audiences here in the United States, especially budding activists, and unite them with the shack dwellers in South Africa? More broadly, how could our film have an impact?

Key support for Dear Mandela came from the Sundance Institute’s Documentary Film Program. From the beginning, through three grants (Development, Production, and most recently, Audience Engagement) and two labs (the Film Composer & Documentary Lab and the Creative Producing Lab), they have stood behind the social justice goals of the film as much as they have nurtured its content and craft. If you want the film to have an impact, they told us, first make the story sing. At the Composer & Documentary Lab, advisor Todd Lending urged us to “let the characters lead the story” and showed examples from his film Omar & Pete. Cara Mertes and her team pushed us: deepen the emotion, sharpen the scenes, clarify, cut. We restructured the film immediately and lopped off an entire story arc. On a recent “Democracy Now” interview, Cara described how the Institute is working to form “communities of documentary filmmakers.”

At the labs, this community operates at full throttle. We lived in a house with other filmmakers, among them Ra’anan Alexandrowicz (The Law In These Parts, POV 2013), Rachel Libert and Tony Hardmon (Semper Fi: Always Faithful) and Michèle Stephenson and Joe Brewster, whose epic American Promise (POV 2013) premiered at the Sundance Festival a few days ago. At the Creative Producing Lab, we spend days talking with the advisors, including Jennifer Arnold (A Small Act), about distribution and outreach: finding partners, crafting impact strategies, marketing, budget. This community – and many others in New York and South Africa – helped us chart a way forward.

Dear Mandela doesn’t have a distributor, which means that we have to make sure it gets seen. In its first year of distribution, Dear Mandela has screened in 31 countries, been translated into 8 languages and won multiple awards including the Grand Jury Prize at the Brooklyn Film Festival, the Golden Butterfly at Movies that Matter in The Hague and Best South African Documentary at the Durban International Film Festival. It is available on satellite television across Africa and in addition to our upcoming US broadcast on AfroPoP, it will screen at festivals in Egypt, Finland and Australia in the coming months.

Besides traditional venues for independent films like ours – festivals and television – Dear Mandela has been able to cross over into community venues, schools and churches with the help of ever-widening networks of activists, lawyers and academics. Every few days, we receive an e-mail from someone, somewhere, asking if they can host a screening. We mail them a DVD and ask only that they take a few photographs. In South Africa, people have hosted their own screenings in shantytowns and transit camps (the notorious, remote “temporary relocation areas” where evicted shack dwellers are dumped), housing conferences and high schools. We had a well-attended run (extended twice) at Johannesburg’s trendy independent cinema The Bioscope. Abahlali members use the film extensively, showing clips when they are invited to speak abroad and using short versions to mobilize their members. Mnikelo says, “After we show the movie, everyone wants to be part of the march. They get more spirited, more encouraged.” We were approached by Christoph Haug, a postdoctoral research fellow at the University of Gothenburg, Sweden. He wanted to organize a screening of the film but by the time he was finished, he had organized a two-week screening tour not only in Sweden but Germany as well, booked a sold-out German premiere at a cinema in Berlin and raised funds to bring two Abahlali members from South Africa to Europe for the tour.

Last October, the New York-based Center for Constitutional Rights organized a weeklong tour of the film with earthquake survivors in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, where one in five face eviction from their flimsy homes in sprawling, under-resourced tent camps. Two members of the Abahlali movement joined us from South Africa, and with a projector, a generator and a white sheet, we shared the new Creole version of Dear Mandela with residents. Local lawyers, camp leaders and activists joined us for post-screening discussions about leadership, building social movements and how to use the law to stop evictions. With the help of our recent audience engagement grant from the Sundance Institute, we’ll be extending this work to India, Brazil and Nigeria this year.

By the Fall of 2012, we felt that Dear Mandela was beginning to take on a life of its own in Europe and South Africa, but without A-list festivals under our belt, it was hard to find our audience here in the United States. We wanted to reach those who were feeling the effects of poverty, people living in communities with high rates of foreclosure and who were, like the young people in our film, organizing to change things. We enlisted the help of the Poverty Initiative, the National Economic and Social Rights Initiative (NESRI) and two dozen grassroots organizations working to end poverty in the United States. We planned an eight-city screening tour of Dear Mandela. Two founding members of the Abahlali movement, Mnikelo Nndabankulu (one of the ‘stars’ of the film) and Abahlali Youth League General Secretary Zodwa Nsibande — both 28 years old — trekked from Durban to New York.

Over three days, in a wood-paneled room at Union Theological Seminary, we discussed Dear Mandela and South Africa’s Abahlali movement with 20 activists from the eight cities we would shortly visit, focusing on how American audiences view Africa and how the ideas we hoped to convey might be appropriately framed. We compared how race and class operate in South Africa and the United States, discussed the limits and possibilities of legal strategies versus political strategies, and planned a framework for how Dear Mandela could be used to support a growing human rights movement in the US. This Intensive — and it lived up to its name — prepared fertile ground for the work ahead.

We traveled to Boston, Burlington, Ithaca, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Detroit and Chicago. Thirty days, thirty screenings. We traveled mostly by Greyhound bus. We slept on floors, couches and sometimes beds. We ate lots of bad road food and many good home-cooked meals made by kind hosts who welcomed three weary travelers into their homes and shared their lives and their work with us.

An army of volunteers in each city organized the screenings, booked theatres, churches, halls, museums and high schools, publicized the events, sold tickets, and arranged local panelists who could bring the issues of poverty and homelessness back home. Many screenings were sold out. In Philadelphia, Bryan Mercer of the Media Mobilizing Project introduced the film in this way: “Their fight in the informal settlements across South Africa is deeply connected to our fight in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and the United States. The story that you will see and hear on film and in person tonight is a story of people who balance work, school, raising families, and organizing to bring together the poor. It is a story of inequality and injustice. But most importantly it is a story of dignity, humanity and the power of organizing.”

Screenings where the films’ stars are present are always, for me, the most meaningful. We have tried as much as possible to bring two or more Abahlali members to screenings. It is a sacrifice for the movement to send their leaders around the world, but having the courageous young people in the film speaking directly to audiences, answering their questions, creates a frisson, a magic that we – the boring old directors – cannot match. Mnikelo is especially charismatic and often has his audience in fits of laughter or close to tears. In every U.S. city we visited, young people asked how they could help the situation in South Africa. Mnikelo replied, “Don’t help Africa and ignore injustice at home.” He quoted Martin Luther King Jr., who said, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” One student wrote, “The most powerful moment in our class discussion was when they said that they made the trip to the United States to encourage our youth to become more politically involved. It was such a selfless statement that it caught me off guard.”

Post-screening conversations often turned to the challenge of organizing when people have to work several jobs to survive. Zodwa and Mnikelo spoke about how they have tried to address this in their movement by having all-night camps every month or so. From six o’ clock on Saturday evening until six o’ clock on Sunday morning, their members meet, free from strain of worrying about catching public transport, which is unavailable past 8 p.m. Children are taken care of and coffee flows freely. They air their fears, their grievances, their hopes and their ideas. They sing to keep their spirits up. Christopher and I filmed at one of the all-night camps while making Dear Mandela, and were impressed by the spirit of open dialogue – people can speak, uninterrupted, and everyone listens.

In the film, we see scenes of mass eviction. Demolition crews, nicknamed the Red Ants because of their red overalls, demolish shacks and leave families homeless – a violation of South Africa’s Constitution. Zafar Shah, an attorney at Baltimore’s Public Justice Center, said, “I would hate for people to leave this film screening saying, well, I don’t see slums and I don’t see the Red Ants in Baltimore City. I get the statistics every month from the sheriff. For 2012, we’re averaging 590 household evictions per month. That means we’re on pace to have 71,000 warrants for eviction issued this year, where the police and sheriff go and take possession of the property. That’s 71,000 instances this year where a family is going to be pushed to the brink, facing the loss of everything they own, their sense of dignity.”

We heard about similarly devastating conditions in other cities and met many fighters who refuse to accept them. Men and women, young and old, whose tenacious spirit gives me hope – women like Maureen Taylor, who twenty years ago was taking over abandoned houses in Detroit with the Michigan Welfare Rights Organization. She hasn’t given up. At Occupy Detroit’s first anniversary birthday party she took the microphone after Mnikelo and said, “This young man that just talked, we just met him, and he’s talking the same way we’re talking – my goodness! Talking about, we ain’t tired and we don’t care. That’s certainly our message.”

Towards the beginning of our tour, in the mobile home of Sandy Gaffney, a leader in Vermont Workers’ Center, Mnikelo noticed a painted sign. “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” Mnikelo repeated this often throughout our tour, and Zodwa would add the African version: “Many spider webs can catch a lion. In Philadelphia, at a meeting of immigrants fighting the unjust removal of their drivers’ licenses, someone said, “If we can unite our struggles, we can be invincible.” That is what I hope American audiences take away from the public television broadcast of Dear Mandela.

Dara Kell is a South African documentary director and editor. As an editor, she has worked on a number of high-profile films and television shows, including Academy Award nominee Jesus Camp and Emmy Award winner Diamond at the Rock. She has also edited short films for Human Rights Watch and the MacArthur Foundation. For Dear Mandela, she was selected as a fellow at the Sundance Institute Documentary Composers Lab and the IFP Documentary Lab.

Dear Mandela premieres on PBS stations as part of the AfroPoP series on January 29, 2013, in New York (WNET), Los Angeles (KLCS) and Chicago (WYCC), and it will stream online for a limited time after that at blackpublicmedia.org. For broadcast times, visit http://bit.ly/VhYUjR (click “where to watch”). And the directors will be chatting with viewers in a social screening Tuesday, January 29 at 4 p.m. ET at http://bit.ly/14piOdm.

Dara Kell discusses her documentary film ‘Dear Mandela’

http://www.filmindustrynetwork.biz/dara-kell-discusses-documentary-film-dear-mandela/19331

Dara Kell discusses her documentary film ‘Dear Mandela’

The daily Fight for Human Rights in South Africa.

The daily fight for the human rights of millions of people in South Africa has been successfully brought to life in a documentary film called ‘Dear Mandela’. This factual and emotional account of the Shack Dwellers Movement exposes the corruption, inhumanities and raw disregard for human life, which still thrives in the country.

This thought-provoking documentary, directed by Dara Kell and Christopher Nizza, follows the lives of three brave young people (Mnikelo, Zama and Mazwi) living in Shantytowns. It shows their rise from the slums on a journey, which sees them successfully tackle the brutal tyranny that deprives them, and millions of inhabitants, of their basic human rights. From protecting against unprecedented attacks in the middle of the night to changing government legislation, this film certainly shows that while one person can make a difference, three can change a country.

Find out how ‘Dear Mandela’ came to life in this exclusive interview with Dara Kell (Co-Director/Producer).

Gail: What were the main elements that inspired your desire to direct and produce Dear Mandela?

Dara: In 2007, Christopher Nizza (co-director) and I read an article, ‘The Struggle is a School’ by Richard Pithouse, and that was the trigger for the film. The article was beautifully written, and described the birth of a new social movement led by people living in shacks in Durban. The movement is called Abahlali baseMjondolo, Zulu term for ‘Residents of the Shacks’.

We were immediately struck by the beauty and clarity of their politics and philosophy. They weren’t only talking about what is wrong with South Africa, but they were also articulating a profound vision of what the world could be, how we could build a society based on respect, where everyone counts. It sounds utopian but they are very practical about it. They call it ‘living politics’. It’s about treating people with respect, providing the things – water, electricity, sanitation – that everyone needs to survive. It’s about the government consulting with people, rather than evicting them and leaving them homeless.

We visited the movement in 2007 and the members of the Abahlali movement were resisting an especially brutal wave of evictions, which were happening extensively in Durban and in other areas of South Africa. The evictions, in almost every case, were illegal and violated South Africa’s constitution. We witnessed a young girl whose shack had been destroyed by municipal workers just an hour before we arrived. We also began to note that young people were rising into leading roles within the movement. Many of them were too young to remember the glorious day when Nelson Mandela walked free in 1990. They were passionate and compelling – not a ‘lost generation’ at all. We couldn’t walk away – we knew we had to make the film.

Gail: Were you aware of the seriousness of the Shack Dwellers’ situation in South Africa prior to joining the film team?

Dara: I knew about it on an intellectual and political level. But spending time there and meeting those most affected made me realize that I had only been scratching at the surface of things. That prompted me to want to delve deeper, to really understand the situation and get to know people at the forefront of the movement.

Gail: What, in your opinion, is the main message the film is sending to the World?

Dara: We envision a world where every human being has shelter, food, water, and sanitation – the basic necessities of a dignified life. We envision a world where nobody has to live in a slum, and where nobody is evicted. Yet around the world, close to 1 billion people live in slums, and every year an estimated 15 million people are forcibly evicted from their homes. In South Africa, a strong social movement rooted in the struggles of ordinary poor and working people, combined with creative use of the law, realized an important victory: stopping forced evictions for thousands of people living in shantytowns.

Dear Mandela follows this victory, from the streets to the highest court in the land. It explores themes of leadership, the plight of the poor, democracy and dignity. The enduring message of the film is that every single person needs to be respected. Poor people around the world are disregarded, discriminated against and often treated as less than human. In South Africa, this is what enables others to look away when they drive past the vast settlements. It’s easy to ignore and to continue with comfortable life as usual. Politicians, who rarely set foot inside the settlements except during election time, find it easy – or at least justifiable – to evict people and leave children homeless.

“The film asks audiences to change how they relate to others, especially poor people. Mazwi says in the film, ‘I may be poor in life, but I am not poor in mind’. If people take only one thing away from the film, I hope that’s it.”

I think the message is: ORGANIZE. Join together with your neighbours to fight injustice around you. RESIST individualism, BUILD collectivism. We recently toured universities in the United States, and Mnikelo and Zodwa, 28-year-old founding leaders of the movement, told students, who asked how they could help, to look around them and fight injustice where they are – not to only focus on helping those in Africa, but to organize for better healthcare, to stop evictions of families facing foreclosure, and so on. Many students looked surprised – I think they were expecting the answer to follow the usual charity model.

Gail: How has making this film affected your future as a Director/Producer? Do you see yourself continuing to focus on ‘message driven films’?

Dara: While I am completely dedicated to being part of a movement to end poverty, I don’t want to limit myself to making any one type of film. Now that we’ve finished Dear Mandela I am trying to remain open to stories that captivate me – stories that I feel I can delve into over a few years. For me, it’s satisfying to track something over a long time. That way, you really get to understand a whole new world. So the only requirement for me is that the story be multi-layered. And of course it has to illuminate universal truths!

Gail: Were there any particular scenes or events which proved to be tremendously challenging when filming?

Dara: One of the biggest challenges was that none of the crew spoke Zulu. The main characters (who are fluent in English) were very accommodating in translating for us when we were in situations where Zulu was mainly being spoken. It was important to us that we make a largely verité film, so we didn’t want to stop the action while we were filming. We would keep the camera rolling even though we didn’t understand exactly what people were saying. We would pick up words here and there, and would make sure that the scene was still something that related to the overall story. This approach meant that we had a huge amount of footage to work with – scenes that sometimes ran for hours. We were very fortunate to find South Africans living in New York who believed in the film and were willing to translate every word. This painstaking process was the only way we could edit the film so that it captured the essence of the movement, the heart of the story.

Gail: It must have been a somewhat emotional journey to be a part of filming ‘Dear Mandela’. What were the dangers involved, the most joyous moments and your highlights?

Dara: The most moving moment of filming was in the Constitutional Court, the day Abahlali baseMjondolo members won the Slums Act case. The Slums Act is scrapped from the books, and the threat of massive evictions affecting thousands of people, is removed. It is a huge victory for shack dwellers and for poor people in South Africa, even though they still do not have the adequate housing they need.

The biggest challenge was earning the trust of the community we wanted to film with. When we first met members of the Abahlali movement at their headquarters in the Kennedy Road informal settlement in Durban, they grilled us for hours about who we were, what we wanted to do, why we wanted to do it. There were illiterate gogos (grandmothers), and lively teenagers. The meeting was conducted in Zulu, with English translations. Then they sent us away, and we went back to our hotel room. In our absence, they voted on whether or not to grant us access. A few hours later, we got an SMS that said we could come back – with our cameras! We were very relieved and excited to be entrusted with their story. I love that the process was so democratic – it wasn’t up to one leader, but it was a decision that was made collectively. This provided us with an excellent opportunity to tell the story from within the movement – to really understand how the movement was developing and how our young characters were evolving.

We proceeded with filming very slowly, and tried to understand what daily life in the settlements was like, and what the movement was trying to achieve. Halfway through production, at a meeting we were filming late at night, the settlement was attacked by a mysterious armed mob and we had to run for our lives. The next few days were terrifying – the leader of the movement, S’bu Zikode, was receiving death threats, and the Abahlali leaders’ shacks were demolished. Thousands of people were fleeing the settlement with only what they could carry. We had the only car around, and we helped people escape. We felt a responsibility to bear witness to what was happening. Going through a near-death experience with them really cemented our relationship, and it’s gone beyond a typical filmmaker / subject relationship. I know we’ll be involved in each others’ lives for a long time to come.

Gail: How challenging was it to assign the main roles, or did you have certain people in mind after reading the script?

Dara: We filmed with people who initially were comfortable in front of the camera, and very quickly found Mnikelo, Zama and Mazwi, the three main characters. Mnikelo is a young man who always puts his community’s needs before his own. He is a co-founder of the Abahlali baseMjondolo movement and despite his young age, he has been part of many campaigns to stop evictions, fight for better conditions in the informal settlements and develop a ‘living politics’ of respect and dignity amongst shack dwellers. He is part of the ‘Right to Know’ campaign, a nation-wide coalition of people and organisations opposed to the Protection of Information Bill – also known as the Secrecy Bill – currently before the South African parliament. Over the past 5 years of filming Dear Mandela with him, we have witnessed his bravery in the face of adversity, his ability to lead by example, to communicate the movement’s goals in a compelling and clear way, and his willingness to sacrifice for the cause of human rights in South Africa. He has made his country proud, and we look forward to following his continued growth as a leader.

Gail: What do you think sets the film apart from the other films about communities/people in crises?

Dara: So many films about poverty are told by experts or focus on the white ‘saviours’ rather than showing those affected by the issue as being masters of their own destiny and capable of saving themselves. We wanted people to delve into the world that Mazwi, Zama and Mnikelo live in, so that you feel like you are walking in their shoes for a while. We shot for hours and hours, just spending time with our characters so that we could tell the story through real moments – cinema verité scenes. Sometimes magical, unexpected things happened and we were in the right place at just the right moment. We wanted the film to feel like a journey of discovery for the audience, just as it was for us while we were in production. The plot took twists and turns we could never have imagined when we started out. We had no idea that our characters would challenge the government in court – all the way up to the Constitutional Court, no less. Though we were aware of some tensions, we had no idea that the movement would be attacked by thugs loyal to the ANC. Sometimes it felt surreal – but we just kept filming. Mazwi also grew up a lot during the 4 years of filming – when we started out, he was sixteen, quite shy, and in Grade 9 – by the time we finished the film, he was a young man just starting university.

Gail: What advice might you have for new filmmakers looking to produce films which are exposing inhumanities and seeking to bring about change?

Dara: I think the most important principle for me is to listen, first, rather than going in with a preconceived idea of the ‘message’ of the film. Dear Mandela has been embraced by the shack dwellers who are the ‘stars’ of the film, and that is the most important thing to me, ultimately. They show it when they are invited to speak in other countries, and they feel that they can stand behind it – that it accurately represents their struggle.

These films are hard to finance. We found fundraising very difficult – and if it hadn’t been for our main funder, the Sundance Institute, we wouldn’t have been able to make the film in the way that we did. They believed in the film and we are so grateful for that. It was hard to convince funders to take a chance on us, as first time filmmakers, and especially with a film that could be viewed as an ‘activist’ film. We don’t see it as an activist film – we see it as a story that needed to be told, and one that somehow we were tasked with telling it. The main characters are activists, and so we had to highlight other aspects of the story in order to show that it wasn’t just about a cause – that we had a real, compelling story on our hands.

Having a parallel career – both Chris and I are documentary and TV editors – really helped. We would work freelance jobs, save money, and then be able to go and shoot the film for months at a time. That was the only way the film could get made, since we didn’t have solid funding throughout. My advice would be to learn how to edit because paying an editor is one of the biggest costs involved. Being able to at least do some of the editing is very useful – and then bringing on a great consulting editor to keep you on track, and sane. We worked very closely with Mary Manhardt who was fantastic and a much-needed third pair of eyes.

Gail: The film is being well received by the International Film Industry, how has this impacted on the plight itself i.e. is the exposure bringing about action and support?

Dara: Yes – the film has been shown in 35 countries and has been translated into 8 languages already – and more screenings and countries are being added every month. I think the film has contributed to a growing awareness of the situation in South Africa and in slums around the world. We were honoured to be nominated for an African Academy Award, and most of all we hope that the nomination will help to shine a light on the brave activists in South Africa, and indeed all over Africa, who are in a daily struggle to defend their human rights.

We always hoped to make a film that spoke to people in a way that was engaging and sometimes even funny, despite the serious subject matter. People tell us after screenings that they laughed and cried in equal measure. We have had fantastic screenings here in South Africa and in Europe so far, and we hope this is just the beginning of a long life for Dear Mandela.

Dear Mandela had its World Premiere at the Durban International Film Festival. We very much felt that the film should be shown to the world for the first time in the city in which it was made. The festival generously gave 150 tickets to members of Abahlali, and their presence at the first ever screening made it really special.

Gail: What would you say to audiences who will be viewing Dear Mandela, as to how they may become involved if they wish to?

Dara: I would encourage everyone to visit the website of the Shack Dwellers Movement, www.abahlali.org. There, you can find out more about the movement and about how best to support them. Also, visit the ‘Take Action’ section on our website www.dearmandela.com .

Q&A: Dara Kell, Filmmaker of “Dear Mandela”

http://daily.swarthmore.edu/2012/10/26/qa-dara-kell-filmmaker-of-dear-mandela/

Q&A: Dara Kell, Filmmaker of “Dear Mandela”

Dara Kell is the co-director and producer of the documentary film Dear Mandela. This film follows three youth leaders in a popular movement within the slums of South Africa against a government policy that would force residents to leave their dwellings. It has been shown at many independent film festivals to critical acclaim. The Daily Gazette spoke with with Kell via phone. Below, she talks about the movement, her experience making the film, and the importance of social activism.

Zoë Cina-Sklar: How would you describe the film in your own words?

Dara Kell: Dear Mandela is the story about a social movement in South Africa called Abahlali BaseMjondolo. [It] started in 2005, and the aim of the movement is to represent the interests of the people who live in the shantytowns in South Africa. So for three years we followed three young people who are leaders of the movement. We focused on a new law called the Slum Act. It affects shack-dwellers. The government started a new program that started evicting people from their homes and moving them far outside of the city. The Abahlali BaseMjondolo movement tried to get the Slum Act scrubbed from the book [of law]. So we followed them and they took the government to court, and they took the case all the way to the constitutional court, our version of the Supreme Court. [The film] also follows the daily lives of the young people who are living in shacks, and [tries] to understand more where South Africa is now in the post-apartheid generation. All the people that we followed are part of what we call the Born Free generation.

ZCS: What makes this film distinct from other documentaries that also are looking at social movements?

DK: I think what we tried to do was not have any experts talking. We tried to tell the story through a very vague [lens]…and just have the action unfold. We really tried to have it as a direct journey of discovery. So there’s no narration, not very many interviews. We tried to have the characters tell the story in their own words.

ZCS: How does that flow? Without interviews or narration, what is the format of the film?

DK: It’s cinema verite. So as the story unfolds, the narrative told is the constitutional court case. We followed them and [went] to the constitutional court, and at the end you hear the decision. It’s just kind of delving into their lives and also understanding the movement that they’re a part of, and there are all sorts of events that we didn’t perceive at the beginning. The movement came under very harsh attacks from the government as well, and you’ll see that in the film. The government hired an armed mob to search for the leaders of the movement and tried to kill them to punish their shack. So in south Africa, on the surface, it seems like a very democratic country, with respect to freedom of speech and freedom of association—all the really hard won freedoms that were fought for—more and more there’s repression of activists and human rights defenders.

ZCS: What was it like being involved with these young people who were dealing with government intervention and danger? What was that like as a filmmaker?

DK: It was very scary. We were [there] when the armed mob came in search of the leaders. I grew up during apartheid and wasn’t really allowed to see this other world that was intentionally hidden from us. I went to a segregated school and lived in a suburb. I was only 14 when the first democratic elections happened, and Mandela became president. We didn’t learn any real history in school. South Africa is very divided still but I think it’s very hard to know what’s really going on unless you actually make an attempt to cross over these invisible boundaries. It’s very easy for people in South Africa and everywhere to ignore what’s going on just around the corner.

ZCS: You said that you felt that you were born to make this film. Was there a particular moment in which you made that realization or was it more of an ongoing sort of realization?

DK: I think it was more of an ongoing journey. As we kept on filming and going deeper and deeper into the story and realizing more and more what was at stake, it wasn’t just about this group of people trying to stop these evictions in Durban and trying to get the government to give them the houses they’d been promised, it was also about democracy and what it means to vote. For me it became a deep and important thing to try to communicate what the Abahlali BaseMjondolo movement vision is. It relates a lot to what’s going on here [in the United States], with a lot of people being homeless, and the thousands and thousands of homes that are empty. It definitely relates to the healthcare situation here where people don’t have the very basics that they need. The conversation becomes more about how these people think they’re entitled, how they haven’t worked and how they haven’t pulled themselves up by their bootstraps. I think that mindset is very prevalent in the United States and around the world. In an administration where there’s a lot of unemployment and there aren’t enough jobs for people, I think that the government does have a responsibility to care for the most vulnerable citizens. It’s a big issue.

ZCS: Would you say that there’s one thing you learned overall from the experience of making the movie that will be with you in the most poignant way for the rest of your life. What was most surprising for you?

DK: In the film you see that that the Abahlali BaseMjondolo movement took the government to court, and that they went all the way to the constitutional court to take this case. And the fact that they won their case was really amazing; that was a really special moment. And a couple things stood out. When the attacks happened, that was right before the constitutional court’s decision came out. And then we were hanging around waiting for the decision to come down when … the armed group attacked. At that point we didn’t know if the movement would survive. We thought, okay there are enough death threats and people were scared. In the film you see that they thought this could destroy our movement, okay, we’ll try to survive. I think the most surprising or amazing thing was that it did survive and it actually grew stronger. The government comes down with a very heavy hand and tries to teach them a lesson. The fact that they survived is a testament to their courage and that the movement continued to grow shows the legitimacy of numbers that they gained in South Africa.

ZCS: It sounds like a really remarkable story. Is there something in particular that you hope people will take away from viewing your film?

DK: I’m hoping that people will see the need for organizing and the need for unity to counteract the culture of individualism that’s so rife in America. The idea that while I’m okay and I’m a little bit better off on money for people to see that even if they’re not okay, they’re connected to their neighbor. The South African idea of Ubuntu is something that’s very powerful and something that we tried to we tried to weave in a subtle way into our film—that idea that unity is important, [that] I am only who I am because of you, that feeling of connectedness.It’s really, really hard to work together, and no one’s sugar coating it, but it’s absolutely essential to have that mass of power in numbers. That [the] 99% has to be united as the 1% are. So I hope that people get that.

ZCS: Thank you so much for speaking with me, and I really look forward to seeing your film.

DK: I looking forward to meeting you. Take care.

Dear Mandela will be screened at Swarthmore today, October 26, at 7:00pm in Science Center 199 and will be followed by a Q&A with Kell.