Mo Scarpelli co-directed “Frame by Frame,” which screened at SXSW, Hot Docs, and BFI London Film Festival, among other fests. It has won over a dozen jury and audience awards. “Anbessa” is her solo directing debut.

“Anbessa” will premiere at the 2019 DOC NYC film festival on November 12.

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

MS: “Anbessa” is the story of a young kid who transforms into a lion in order to fight back against a world that’s constantly telling him he doesn’t belong. The film takes liberties to honor the perspective of Asalif, the 10-year-old protagonist, who believes in the power of fantasy as strongly as “real” life.

W&H: What drew you to this story?

MS: I was searching for a story amid a gigantic and vacuous condominium complex that was being built on the outside of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. The condo had been promoted in the city as the largest in East Africa which would benefit tens of thousands and improve lives everywhere. I spent months roaming this place, meeting people, gleaning the complexities of this massive complex and how it promised much, delivered to some, and took away from others, [such as the] farmers displaced by it.

Asalif found me sitting in a courtyard with my friend; he chirped and roared at us and then squatted next to my friend to spin stories to him in an Amharic like those ancient storytellers around a fire. His eyes were brilliant and alive. He also, it turned out, lived on the very rift of the new condo, the new world, and the farmland, the old world. He’d been displaced by its construction.

I wanted to know where or how he could find his place in this rapidly changing world, and he was at an age where this quest was paramount to him. I scrapped any other characters and followed him down a path.

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

MS: Whatever they will. The film — and Asalif — speak for themselves and mean something different to everyone, which is why I make films.

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

MS: Funding. The social implications of “Anbessa” are subtle. The story is intimate and profound in its smallness, yet universal in themes — but these types of films do not receive much support from private funding streams/distributors.

It seems to me that the majority of documentary funding in North America is determinant on content rather than form, and the content of this film is not crucial or paramount to the mainstream market. It should be, but isn’t. Ethiopia and its situation are not present in the media or public discourse in the U.S.

This film was shot and then edited quite succinctly — most of the shoot was a six-week period I filmed and the edit took 10 weeks — but the time between all aspects of filmmaking to raise the funds slowed the film down to take three to four years to finish.

It was tough to maintain creative momentum in this time, and very tough to book out the talent I wanted to work with, such as our editor Nico Leunen, our sound mixer Tijn Hazen, and our musician Erik K. Skodvin, who are highly coveted and had to delay work on “Anbessa” as we scratched to raise funds.

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

MS: “Anbessa” was self-funded and supported by two grants, two donors, and a private investor. Development was sparked by the lovely Catapult Film Fund, which I was grateful for. Rake Films, my production company, funded the majority of the production, and then post was funded by an additional Catapult grant as well as donors and the investor.

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

MS: I wanted to spend time observing people and spaces, and to find the poetry in the world that exists without us trying too hard to construct it. I started filmmaking with this notion seven or eight years ago, but only in the last few years while making “Anbessa” have I truly cracked the “why” of filmmaking for me.

Filmmaking gives me the means to shut up and listen, to watch, to suspend judgement unlike any other moment in my life. Through “Anbessa,” I discovered the way I truly love to make films: by getting so close to the person I am filming, so obsessed with their body language and sounds and the way they inhabit spaces, that I can then construct the film’s narrative in collaboration with their unique way of perceiving the world. For Asalif, this meant utilizing fantasy. His transformation into a lion is as real to him as what he eats for lunch. It became thus for me, too.

My previous film, which I co-directed, didn’t have this process in the same way, though it was a good experience nonetheless. In “Anbessa” I found why I want to be a filmmaker.

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

MS: Best advice: “Keep making stuff.”

Worst: “Make it accessible. Don’t shoot in languages other than English.” Audiences are way smarter than gatekeepers give them credit for.

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

MS: I don’t have any advice for female filmmakers. I have advice for filmmakers, and that is to keep making stuff, take special note of when you are fully and honestly obsessed with a thing, whether it’s a person, a place, or an image, and follow that to the very end of where it could possibly take you. That’s when you’ll realize the “why” behind everything you did.

In the meantime, don’t think too much: Just follow your instincts. Let images haunt you, dream of them, turn them over and over in your mind, and then make the sensation of that image mean something to you on-screen in your film. I promise it will mean something to someone else. Don’t think about that someone else for a long time while making your film.

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

MS: “Ratcatcher” by Lynne Ramsay. It’s a profound work exploring the tragedy of coming of age, and it’s intimate and haunting.

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

MS: I haven’t noticed differences in the industry personally. I suppose these movements have sparked dialogue, but to be honest, I haven’t been apart of it, as I’ve been largely offline working on my next film in Venezuela.