Documentary filmmakers Joanna Sokolowski and Kate Trumbull-LaValle met while earning their M.A. in Social Documentation at the University of California, Santa Cruz. Directing their thesis films, the two bonded over a shared commitment to produce intimate, nuanced portraits of the contemporary female experience. The filmmaking duo formed Sylvia Frances Films in 2013, named after their mothers’ first names, to produce the feature documentary “Ovarian Psycos,” which made its world debut at the SXSW 2016. (Press materials)

“Ovarian Psycos” will premiere at the 2016 Hot Docs Film Festival on April 30.

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

JS: The Ovarian Psycos is a young women of color bicycle crew from the Eastside of Los Angeles. Our film, titled after the group, follows the crew’s founder Xela de la X, a single mom, activist, and M.C., street artist and original Ovarian Psycos member Andi Xoch, and a new bright-eyed recruit named Evie.

The purpose of the crew is to confront violence against women in their neighborhoods, and we follow our characters as they confront the violence in their lives, struggle with their roles as activists, mothers, daughters, and sisters, and attempt to make change in their neighborhood.

At its heart, “Ovarian Psycos” is about the tender and fragile bonds of family, the family you inherit, and the family you create.

W&H: What drew you to this story?

KTL: I was working as a producer and assistant editor for Renee Tajima-Peña’s PBS documentary, “No Más Bebés” (2015), also an activist story based in East Los Angeles that takes place during the 1960s and 70s. That film was about the sterilization abuse of Mexican origin women at L.A. County General Hospital, and the historic, yet forgotten, civil rights case that the mothers and Chicano/a activist lawyers filed and fought during the 1970s.

I had been working for months doing research and interviews alongside Renee and Virginia, and learning about the legacy of foundational work of Chicana feminists organizing in East LA. Virginia mentioned that she thought this cool new bike collective called Ovarian Psycos — who I’d never heard of them before — could be a potential outreach partner. Hearing that name alone — Ovarian Psycos — I felt like it could make a record skip.

Here was this contemporary radical all women of color activist group, on bikes, using a hybridized form of self and community expression that had threads pulling from Chicanismo, Zapatismo, punk, Riot Grrl, and hip hop. I was just immediately enthralled.

I called Joanna. We had met in graduate school and had wanted to make a film together, so we pored over every image, article, and piece of research online we could find about Ovarian Psycos and quickly felt compelled to reach out to them to learn more. That was four years ago, and the rest is history.

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

KTL: I hope audiences are first wowed, like we are, by how incredibly brilliant, strategic, vulnerable, and strong the women in our film are. I’m excited by the possibility of how our film, and the work of the Ovas, might contribute to a larger conversation about feminism, racial equality, and stretch and re-define our understanding about what gender equality is and looks like.

And most importantly, I’m excited to reach audiences who find a natural connection to the story of the Ovas, audiences who might not always see themselves and their stories reflected accurately or honestly, folks who feel isolated or alone, folks who are struggling with the traumas of violence, or folks who are yearning to see something bold and radical, yet strangely basic at the same time.

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

JS: Building trust and rapport with the Ovarian Psycos — and most notably, with Xela, Andi, and Evie. They didn’t know us, and were skeptical of us when we approached them, understandably. Here we were, two eager first-time filmmakers: women, yes, but not from East Los Angeles, and white.

There were many conversations that took place off-camera about race, class, white privilege, and the inherent power dynamics within the genre of documentary that had to happen in order to make this film. Dialogue and transparency was important — vital, really — to the Ovas and that became essential to our filmmaking process. The process ultimately made for a better film, and I think it made us better filmmakers for it.

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

KTL: We raised initial funds through ITVS’ Diversity Development Fund, coupled with our own money to help us get started. Soon after we launched a modest Kickstarter campaign to launch production. We then were lucky to receive ITVS’ highly competitive Open Call and were also generously granted support from Pacific Pioneer Fund and Cal Humanities.

Most recently, we launched a final Kickstarter Campaign to help us cover feature costs not covered by the broadcast, and to help bring our main characters to our world premiere at SXSW.

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

JS: The worst advice I have probably received — and I have heard it from a few male filmmakers — is, “If you are scared, you are doing something right.” I think this advice is supposed to teach you to ignore your gut, to power through, to be bold and brave and take chances.

For me, this advice is the opposite of how I want to approach filmmaking. Kate and I strive to listen to our gut, be responsive, intuitive, thoughtful, and considerate. We want the folks around us to feel included in the process, and for the journey to affect the outcome as much as possible. For me, if you are scared, you are doing something wrong.

KTL: I feel lucky to have had mentorship from veteran, working women filmmakers who have been incredibly generous with their time, resources, and have just been great listeners when things get crazy! Renee Tajima-Peña is a mentor of mine, and she often says that documentary filmmaking is just a series of problems you have to find creative solutions for.

Inevitably there are challenges and roadblocks — at almost every stage of making a doc. A character has no arc, the story you imagine fizzles out during production, a scene was shot inadequately, or the structure of your edit is not working. Not to mention the challenges of fundraising, budgeting, scheduling, etc. Reminding myself of this piece of advise — that this is all the natural process of doc making, and it goes on for years and years, has become my mantra — especially during times when I feel stuck, either logistically or creatively.

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

JS: Make a movie. Honestly. In the beginning Kate and I had no idea how or when the film would be received. We always dreamt of playing at fests like SXSW and Hot Docs, but this is our first feature, we had no prior connections to the fests, and I had never even worked on a feature film from start to finish.

This was a labor of love from the very beginning — we worked long hours, spent our own money, lived and breathed the story of the Ovas — with no real idea of where the film would go and what the film could do. Being dedicated to the process, to the film, and ultimately to the women who so bravely and graciously shared their stories on camera was what got us through to the end. And we could not be more thrilled with the results.

KTL: Work collaboratively — partner up. This film was on the “fast track” once we received funding and still took four years to make. I know some documentary films take much longer.

Life happens. I was working full-time on another project when we first started, I became a mom for the first time during production, and I’m seven months pregnant now, so having a filmmaking partner to rely on, collaborate with, help out when I’m with my kid, and just bounce ideas off of has been so valuable to me.

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

KTL: I don’t have one favorite, but I can list a few women-directed films that I’ve loved and have been inspired by over the years for a myriad of reasons: “The Betrayal — Nerakhoon” by Ellen Kuras and Thavisouk Phrasavath; “First Person Plural” by Deann Borshay Liem; “Who Killed Vincent Chin” by Renee Tajima-Peña and Christine Choy; “Maquilapolis: City of Factories” by Vicky Funari and Sergio De La Torre; “Sisters in Law” by Kim Longinotto; and “Rabbit in the Moon by Emiko Omori. Really, there are so many others I could list!