Sonja Sohn is an actress and filmmaker. Her on-screen credits include “The Wire,” “Body of Proof,” and “The Chi.” She made her directorial debut with the 2017 documentary “Baltimore Rising.”

“The Slow Hustle” starts screening at the 2021 DOC NYC Film Festival on November 15. The fest runs from November 10-28.

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

SS: The mysterious death of a Baltimore detective sets off an unraveling mystery when his past relationship to corrupt officers is discovered. The film follows the aftermath of his death, tracking the case and the mysterious turns it takes as multiple theories emerge, revealing how police corruption’s destruction of the public trust has ultimately impacted the force’s ability to solve a shooting death of one of its own.

W&H: What drew you to this story?

SS: The mysterious nature of the crime and how the conclusion of Det. Suiter’s death continuously shifted as time wore on. Also, the manner in which the department handled the death of a cop which initially appeared to be a murder and how, ultimately, the ever evolving theories of his death became a reflection, a kind of barometer for the city’s relationship to the department — a bellwether for just how much the trust between the police department and city residents had eroded — and what the results of that loss could indicate for the police department and the city’s residents long term.

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

SS: That’s a tough question. I understand why it’s being asked, but I feel I have to thread the needle a bit here because it’s important to me that I not influence what folks think too much. I believe in letting the film and its reverberations speak for themselves a bit before I step forward with too many reflections because making the film is a very different experience than being an audience member. I have been impacted by more than the 90 minutes they have watched.

At this point, I can say the one question I would like to see discussed is: What happens when the public can no longer trust its police department? How does that reverberate outwardly to its residents beyond the police brutality and civil rights violations that contribute to the creation of that erosion of trust and, ultimately, impact the department itself?

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

SS: The police department was under a consent decree. They had grown distrustful of the media, making it much more challenging to gain access to a police insider who might be able to lend insight into some of the discrepancies that plagued the case.

We began development six months after Suiter passed away. The family was already exhausted by the attention and were simply playing a waiting game. They gave the police department a very long rope before deciding to take action against them.

Shooting days are limited, so there were times we were crossing our fingers that breaking news and family actions would align in a manner that timed out favorably, particularly because there were still a few shoot days left when COVID-19 hit, which didn’t make it any easier.

Equally as challenging, if not more so, was the edit. Having to parse out the theories with the team during the time of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, and Breonna Taylor’s killings was also challenging. We were being hit with the devastation of police brutality, corruption, civil rights violations, you name it — law enforcement was and remains on the “hot seat,” so to speak — and the team, all having been raised in America, needed to have courageous conversations amongst ourselves to ensure we weren’t bringing our own biases into the mix. Quite a feat, given we were also doing all of this over teleconference and Zoom.

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

SS: It is not lost on me that it is a gift and a blessing to be able to earn a living doing what I do. But life, for me, is about one thing: purpose. Inextricably interwoven into purpose is service. What can we offer back to the world because we have been gifted — whether through skills, talent, knowledge, healing, access, resources, or even pain? Filmmaking is a business of reflection — and that’s important. I only recently realized just how much of my esteem was built around what I saw — or did not see — on television as a child. It is so important not simply that we see ourselves, our likeness and issues and so forth, onscreen, but our Truths. It is one manner in which we as a society have determined we define ourselves: by the stories we see on television and in the movies. Consciously or unconsciously, we believe what we see. Film and television shape our Truths.

So, it’s at this intersection of Truth and Reflection and service that I find myself falling in love with documentary filmmaking — stemming, I suppose, from this need as child to see a reflection that rarely existed, which then may have stirred my passion for uplifting stories and perspectives that bring something positive, a catalyst for transformation, to light.

I have always had a rather tactile, cathartic engagement with my creativity, which I bring to my understanding that there is a reason we are making these films. A reason we cannot pretend doesn’t exist as we are attempting to be a very neutral “tool” in the moment. I see that as being true for all creators, all people even, as we all have something to give. If we keep the vessel finely tuned and channels clear, the stories we are supposed to tell, the people we are supposed to serve, come to us — we meet each other — in a mutual space where we have been brought together to hopefully share an extraordinary story, which in my case hopefully leads to some type of exposure or voice for wisdom or healing to come forth.

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

SS: You know, I have never defined my path based on gender. I’ve never felt I’ve belonged to any one gender, though it had been easiest to not complicate matters in the past and identify as female, particularly when I was in high school in the early ’80s down south. That said, being a mixed race black person who was raised in the south, I didn’t take too much time to pay too much attention to the obstacles. I was born with so many right in front of my face. If I had identified them as such, been transfixed upon them, I think there’s a possibility that I might still be locked behind those obstacles. So, I would say: Do you. Drown out the chatter. Get trained. Get a mentor who sees something in you, someone you respect and want to learn from.

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

SS: Julie Dash’s “Daughters of the Dust” for its lyrical, dream-like quality and how it tells a story that bridges dimensions, making the invisible seen, so to speak. Her visual and metaphorical use of color [is incredible]. [The film includes such memorable] nature shots, [and] the shot of the Native American character in the tree [really stands out]. There is another film within the film that is based purely on elements of metaphor and symbolism. A film that is very much like literature.

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

SS: Life after COVID-19 has been interesting. It’s not been easy to find footing because I am experiencing what feels like a total reboot, while also feeling a surge of creativity and ideas, and engaging in very synchronistic meetings. It’s a lot to balance, so slowing down and not getting ahead of myself seems to be the key.

Creatively, I’m acting here and there, but have been putting most of my focus on doc projects. I finished “The Slow Hustle” last year during the pandemic and am working on a memoir as well. For the past few years, I’ve been developing a project about black wealth building in the rural south not far from where I live. It involves a black family-owned racetrack, and a young motorcycle club that acts as a mentoring and community service group.

W&H: The film industry has a long history of underrepresenting people of color onscreen 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?

SS: There are steps being taken now, such as ensuring there are more programmers of color.

There is an important conversation emerging around how deeply involved film subjects should be in the production of a film about them. This is a very interesting debate, a potential game changer, as it speaks to the enduring lack of trust people of color have of those outside of the culture who come to observe “the other.” Shifting some norms around the depth to which it is acceptable to allow those whose stories we are telling to be involved in the portrayal of their lives is important. In some cases, I believe this leads to more openness and vulnerability, not necessarily less objectivity, which has been the concern in the past.