Beth B is a writer, director, and producer of feature-length documentary and narrative films, as well as experimental shorts. Her films have been shown at, and acquired by, the Whitney Museum of American Art and MoMA, and have been the subjects of several books and documentaries. Her documentary credits include “Call Her Applebroog” and “Breathe In, Breathe Out,” and she has also written and directed narrative features such as “Salvation!: Have You Said Your Prayers Today?” and “Two Small Bodies.”

“Lydia Lunch – The War is Never Over” will premiere at the 2019 DOC NYC film festival on November 9.

W&H: Describe the film for us in your own words.

BB: “Lydia Lunch – The War is Never Over” is the first career-spanning documentary retrospective of Lydia Lunch’s confrontational, acerbic, and always electric artistry. As New York City’s preeminent No Wave icon from the late 1970s, Lunch has forged a lifetime of music and spoken word performance devoted to the utter right of any woman to indulge, seek pleasure, and to say “fuck you!” as loud as any man. In this time of endless attacks on women, this is a rallying cry to acknowledge the only thing that is going to bring us together: art, the universal salve to all of our traumas.

W&H: What drew you to this story?

BB: I’ve known and worked with New York No Wave legend Lydia Lunch since the late ’70s when we broke boundaries, confronting audiences with uncensored poetry, music, and films. Reflecting on the groundbreaking defiance Lydia has personified for over 30 years, she is a survivor who creates a dialogue of universal truth through her music and spoken word performances.

In 1984, she penned the subversive and prescient spoken word piece “Daddy Dearest,” defying the gag order, and spoke out about the sexual abuse she suffered as a young girl at the hands of her father. Women and children have been compelled to hide the abuses perpetrated against them, and/or have been re-victimized for speaking out.

With the current explosion of women stepping out of their silence regarding sexual harassment in the workplace, Lydia continues to expose the patriarchy, sexual abuse, the cycle of violence, and corporate greed with stubborn resistance.

W&H: What do you want people to think about when they are leaving the theater?

BB: My documentary films are social, political, and personal investigations — home movies focusing on people I know or have come to know. Lydia was 19 and I was 23 when we met in the late 70s New York music/film/art scene and brought our radical visions to the underground where we broke boundaries, simultaneously shocking and enticing our audiences with our uncensored music and films.

I want people to understand that voicing the unheard and seeing the unseen creates dialogue, community, and a place for self-knowledge and acceptance. There is power in creating and claiming a new vision of woman.

W&H: What was the biggest challenge in making the film?

BB: Funding the film was the greatest challenge.

W&H: How did you get your film funded? Share some insights into how you got the film made.

BB: I did a Kickstarter crowdfunding campaign to enable us to begin our filming, and once that money was exhausted, I found like-minded people to work on the film in a voluntary capacity. Taking on multiple roles myself was a major part in getting the film made. I directed, produced, edited, and shot some of the film, which did give me complete control over the material, but also demanded enormous patience and fortitude.

I applied for grants and was turned down by five funders. I was finally funded by one: the Made in NY Women’s Film, TV & Theatre Fund. I continued to work even when there were no funds whatsoever. I did enlist a couple of interns from Montclair State University, which was incredibly positive, and had two students at different times assisting in various capacities.

As the film took form, I was able to interest a couple of funders to make contributions, so I could complete the film for our world premiere at DOC NYC.

W&H: What inspired you to become a filmmaker?

BB: My utter disillusionment with the art world was what brought me to making films in the late ’70s. I felt that film was a way to incorporate all of the arts within one form. Starting in Super 8 film was an inexpensive way to create work that had more political and social resonance at a time in New York when the city was in rubble, the country was at war against itself, and the act of taking to the streets was a way of liberating myself from the constraints of the hierarchy of the time, but which we know still reigns.

It also seemed like a more democratic way of making and showing creative work. It was in the club scene of 1979 that my first films were shown side-by-side with punk/no wave bands—an exhilarating way to watch the loud and abrasive films I was making at that time.

W&H: What’s the best and worst advice you’ve received?

BB: I generally don’t listen to advice unless it’s from someone I respect and who knows my work. Then, I listen very carefully because I’ve learned that sometimes I’m too close to my work to see the big picture.

W&H: What advice do you have for other female directors?

BB: Be idealistic, tenacious, and don’t take no for an answer. Money is not what makes a person successful. View success in terms of being a decent human being, making work that has a powerful message, and don’t give up. Inciting controversy, change, and dialogue are all good things, especially about a necessary message and topic.

W&H: Name your favorite woman-directed film and why.

BB: “The Piano” by Jane Campion. After 25 years, the film still resonates. The sexual obsession and secret passion shared by the two lead characters, played by a mute Holly Hunter and Harvey Keitel, [stands out]. The silences and unknowns of their past and present lives force us as an audience to fill in aspects of the story that are left mysterious and provocatively ominous. The visuals are stunning: from the surreal image of the beached piano, to the fainting of Hunter’s character, her body almost floating out the mud and rain. It’s a gorgeous and disturbing film about the repression of pain and the freedom in art and love. It’s extraordinary acting and directing.

W&H: What differences have you noticed in the industry since the #MeToo and #TimesUp movements launched?

BB: There is much discussion, and thankfully people are coming out of the silence of terrifyingly abusive situations, but the abusers are still out there getting away with it all with a light punitive tap on the shoulder. I shudder to imagine the thousands of women who cannot come forward as their class and social status commits them to silence for fear of retribution.

Women do have more opportunities, but as I’ve witnessed through my many years as a filmmaker, we take a few steps forward, then slide a few steps back. In all these years, we still have such unequal representation in Hollywood — it’s appalling.

Our stories are not being financed, thereby not being told, and we have to keep fighting very hard. It is critical that we show up for each other’s films, music, art, and any creative endeavor, to show that there is a need, and we won’t be silenced.