Diane Tsai is a Taiwanese-American documentary filmmaker and journalist at TIME. Her award-winning documentary series “Firsts,” which she directed and produced with Spencer Bakalar, features 46 groundbreaking women from Hillary Clinton to Serena Williams. The series received POYi Documentary Project of the Year, a Webby Award nomination, SPD Gold Medal, and was an official selection of the U.S. State Department’s American Film Showcase. In 2018, she was part of a team named Livingston Award finalists for “The Silence Breakers,” a short documentary on the women whose voices sparked the #MeToo movement. “Be Our Guest” is her debut feature documentary.

“Be Our Guest” starts screening at the 2021 DOC NYC Film Festival on November 18. The fest runs from November 10-28.

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

DT: “Be Our Guest” is a film about radical generosity and what is possible when you are determined to make a difference in someone else’s life. It’s also about a family’s love.

The film follows the O’Leary family as they welcome strangers recovering from addiction into their home, even as their four children are just starting to enter adolescence. Every year, Lydia O’Leary asks her kids, “Are you willing to give up a year of your life, so that someone can have the rest of their life?” Their annual commitment results in an unconventional lifestyle that pushes them all to reconsider the meaning of community, independence, and altruism.

W&H: What drew you to this story?

DT: When I first met the O’Leary family, I had a general sense of how they lived, but observing their everyday life in person shifted that understanding completely. I quickly realized that the O’Learys challenge a lot of preconceived notions one might have about letting complete strangers live in your home. It was evident how beneficial a warm family environment, with kids laughing and running around, could be to people in recovery, and I was very interested in seeing the long-term impact of this rare type of support.

I was also very drawn to the kids—Brooklyn, Autumn, Jedayah, and Ronan—who displayed a maturity beyond their years and an openness to new people without judgement. I wanted to know how their unique childhood shaped their worldview. And when I envisioned them becoming teenagers, and later adults, I was curious whether their perspectives might shift over the years.

Another intriguing aspect to me was trying to understand what drives Lydia and her family to take such an extreme approach to helping others. What allows them to put their trust in strangers, and what have they learned from the ups and downs over the past 15 years of taking people in?

W&H: What do you want people to think about after they watch the film?

DT: My hope is that this film will inspire people to take action—not necessarily to replicate what this family is doing, but to ask ourselves: How are you living out your values, and demonstrating those beliefs to your children or people who look up to you? It’s natural to have fears about what’s feasible, or whether you can even make a difference, but I hope that audiences might leave with a broader sense of what can be possible when we as a community choose to step in.

While reporting on the opioid crisis, we received a lot of feedback from people who really wanted to see more hopeful stories. I’m so honored to be able to provide a glimpse into some incredible recovery stories through this film, and to highlight the strength and resilience of someone like Jennifer Mosher, who was able to rebuild her relationship with her family, start a new career, and ultimately create the home she set out to at the beginning of the film.

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

DT: A big challenge for me as a first-time director was learning how to film a story in which so many people’s lives were completely intertwined. Early on, I had trouble focusing on a single perspective, and found myself constantly shifting the camera around to capture everything that was happening in the house. Plus, there was always something else going on in a different part of the house!

Later on, I realized that this was also the heart of the story. By taking people in, the O’Learys have expanded their immediate family of six to 14, 15 people at times. They all have their own unique needs and struggles, and everyone’s choices and actions affect each other.

In the editing process, this also posed a challenge: figuring out how to introduce each person, and finding the natural point to shift to someone else’s perspective. I learned so much about how to weave it all together from our editor Sunita Prasad and executive producer and creative advisor Erica Sashin. It was quite a process of arranging and rearranging. I’m so grateful for their wisdom.

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

DT: As a senior producer at TIME, I first met the O’Leary family while producing a short video for the Opioid Diaries, a multimedia project and magazine issue, the first-ever issue devoted to a single topic, produced by Paul Moakley.

With support from TIME and TIME Studios, I was able to continue filming in between other short documentaries and projects. Traveling and filming as a one person crew allowed us to keep costs low, and played a key role in creating a sense of intimacy in the film. I am especially grateful for the early and continued support of Justine Simons and Rebecca Teitel, who recognized the potential and helped nurture this film from the beginning.

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

DT: It started with a strong interest in photography, which my parents encouraged by giving me my first camera when I was 10. When I was in middle school, I signed up for a video production class by accident and couldn’t get out of it. I dreaded the class, thinking it would involve a lot of technical skills that I assumed I wouldn’t be interested in learning. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I deeply enjoyed the class, especially because it allowed me to try out a rotating list of roles with a small crew of peers. Looking back, it was my very first experience as a director, a role that I would not have envisioned myself in otherwise. Taking that class pushed me to think creatively in a lot of different styles, and showed me that I was more capable than I realized. I wish everyone had an opportunity to experience that at a young age.

I didn’t think much more about it until I was in college and had decided to pursue journalism. Initially, I wanted to become a writer. I was invigorated by the opportunity to learn about others’ experiences and to be exposed to perspectives outside my own. I felt and still feel a deep responsibility to shed light on the issues of our time, to encourage empathy, and to prompt important questions and dialogue.

But when I had to produce a video for one of my classes, things suddenly clicked for me— this was an opportunity to not only tell meaningful stories, but to do it in a way that allowed for the audience to be immersed in a very different way, one that also engaged my visual sense of creativity. I didn’t realize it then, but those early experiences in that video class paved a foundation that helped guide my instincts years later, which gave me the confidence to begin exploring filmmaking.

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

DT: The best advice I’ve heard is a quote from Ira Glass, where he talks about how a lot of people are tempted to give up early on in their creative careers because their work doesn’t match their taste and ambitions. But the only way to overcome it is to create a large volume of work, however discouraging it may be, and to keep developing your skills until you reach that point.

The worst advice: “You shouldn’t advocate for yourself like that because you’re too young.”

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

DT: The world needs your perspective. Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.

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

DT: I’ve never been able to name a favorite film, but one film I love is Lulu Wang’s “The Farewell.” It meant so much to me to see an Asian-American female director empowered in telling her own story and bringing her impeccable style, storytelling, and humor to it. I remember hearing Lulu tell the story when it first aired on “This American Life,” and how much I connected to it. To then see myself and my family reflected on the big screen in a way I haven’t seen before made me so hopeful about the future of filmmaking and the industry.

W&H: How are you adjusting to life during the COVID-19 pandemic? Are you keeping creative, and if so, how? 

DT: During the pandemic, I moved to be closer to family, which I am so grateful for. It’s also allowed me to be more physically active and spend more time outdoors. Both of these things have played a huge role in helping me cope and to be better at my work. I’m just coming out of finishing “Be Our Guest,” but am very excited to be developing some new ideas.

W&H: The film industry has a long history of underrepresenting people of color on screen and behind the scenes and reinforcing— and creating— negative stereotypes. What actions do you think need to be taken to make the doc world more inclusive?

DT: We need to make changes both from the top and bottom. I think we are starting to see a much-needed push in funding and opportunities for BIPOC filmmakers, which is just the beginning. I’ve also been the only person of color in meetings with executives and other gatekeepers enough times to know that there is a real need for more people of color in senior, decision-making roles. I can’t wait to see that happen.