Ciara Lacy is a Native Hawaiian filmmaker whose interest lies in using strong characters and investigative journalism to challenge the creative and political status quo. Her work has shown in theaters and has aired on PBS, ABC, TLC, Discovery, Bravo and A&E. She is the inaugural Sundance Institute Merata Mita Fellow for Indigenous Artists and a current Princess Grace Awards Special Project grantee.
“Out of State” will premiere at the 2017 LA Film Festival on June 18.
W&H: Describe the film for us in your own words.
CL: “Out of State” is character-driven vérité documentary that chronicles the experience of two men who find their cultural identity while housed in a private prison thousands of miles from their island home of Hawaii.
The film observes the space between personal change and how the outside world adjusts to this internal transformation. It’s about physical and emotional distance — dictated by both circumstance and personal choice — and what overcomes this distance.
At the film’s heart is the belief that we can all come back from even the biggest of obstacles, especially if given the opportunity to do so.
“Out of State” challenges us to explore the question of whether we believe in forgiveness, and what makes someone ready for change.
W&H: What drew you to this story?
CL: As a native Hawaiian, I’m naturally drawn to stories from my community, particularly one with as many layers as “Out of State” — the striking visual of native culture behind bars, the emotional challenge of starting your life over after prison, and how this affects both Native and masculine identities.
However, my connection to “Out of State” is much deeper. At 31, I left my life in New York as a production freelancer to recover from an injury that left me unable to work. I struggled with what my future would be, wondering if I could be the same active person I once was.
When I learned about Native Hawaiian men practicing their culture in an Arizona prison as a form of self-rehabilitation, it struck me in the gut. I watched a clip I found online, and I remember immediately thinking that we could heal each other. If they could rebuild their lives, so could I.
I consider the creative process to be restorative, fixing the pieces of ourselves that need repair. Thanks to the last four years spent working on this film, I feel like I’m almost back to the healthy person I once was.
Now, as the film finds its way into the world with its LA Film Festival world premiere, I’m eager for “Out of State” to spark conversations that help our incarcerated and formerly incarcerated populations find support and healing, too.
W&H: What do you want people to think about when they are leaving the theater?
CL: My film is meant to leave audiences thinking and, hopefully, emotionally impacted, even if those thoughts remain unresolved as people walk out the theater doors.
I want people to feel conflicted because, to me, that says action. As a documentary storyteller and someone with a social justice mindset, I want the film to sit in people’s minds, forcing them to process what they’ve seen, rather than handing them an overly reductive, one-note solution.
In my opinion, the path toward “better” begins with stepping outside the dire statistics that have plagued the Hawaiian community and other communities of color struggling in the U.S. criminal justice system; it’s about giving an audience the opportunity to watch a story that, while on the outside seems different, is actually universal.
This is how we give face to typically invisible populations, hopefully creating understanding, and, ultimately, change.
W&H: What was the biggest challenge in making the film?
CL: There’s a big push for independent filmmakers to build an audience for their movie throughout the filmmaking process, grabbing Facebook likes and Twitters followers as a project progresses from R&D and into distribution.
In order to successfully complete “Out of State,” our team had to navigate many complex worlds. For us, this meant avoiding any sort of social media presence or audience building along the way.
Now, as we embark on distribution, our biggest hurdle is ramping up our audience growth to ensure the film helps spark the kinds of conversations we intended it to do from the beginning.
W&H: How did you get your film funded? Share some insights into how you got the film made.
CL: Prior to making this film, I had worked as a freelancer in production — only as work for hire on someone else’s project. The idea of starting from scratch and raising funds to make my own film was completely foreign to me. In fact, raising enough funds to make a feature-length vérité documentary felt daunting, and my producing partner and I knew we had no money to self-fund the project.
I immediately launched into learning about the grant funding space and how my film fit into that world. “Out of State” was almost completely funded by the generosity of grants from institutions like the Sundance Institute, the Tribeca Film Institute, the MacArthur Foundation, Pacific Islanders in Communications, the Princess Grace Foundation, and ITVS, among others.
I think, despite this being my first film and my first time writing grants, we found success by taking the time to really strategize and identify what points of contact existed between the film and granting entities.
Funders were already interested in stories addressing our broken criminal justice system, and there is a particular interest for stories like “Out of State” that felt untold.
Our core producing team — producer Beau Bassett and myself — were authentic storytellers in that we were native Hawaiians crafting a film about our community. As a former public defender in Hawaii, Beau also has a deep understanding of the system and its issues.
Finally, I spent a lot of time absorbing the mission statements of any organization we would apply to in order to demonstrate how our project fit in line with their core mission. This was critical.
I’d also try to seek out past grant winners to get their thoughts about what made their application successful. This kind of intel can be incredibly helpful.
W&H: What does it mean for you to have your film play at the LAFF?
CL: “Out of State’s” world premiere at LAFF means the vote of confidence of an incredible festival that celebrates diverse stories and new voices in the heart of the filmmaking world.
It also validates what I’ve always believed: my film, at its core, is a universal story. It speaks not only to the struggles of the native Hawaiian community, but also to other communities of color struggling under the same criminal justice system.
My hope is that our debut at a festival like LAFF — which has such a vibrant, multicultural community surrounding it — helps begin this conversation. Solidarity is necessary for change.
W&H: What’s the best advice you’ve received?
CL: When I first began working on “Out of State,” I was constantly worried about money. Money to pay for our team’s flights to the prison in Arizona. Money to pay for equipment and hard drives.
So, when Bird Runningwater, head of the Sundance Institute’s NativeLab, first told me, “Focus on the story you want to tell,” I had to really think about this.
It’s easy to get caught up in the logistical and financial needs of making a film, but the truth is that the most important thing is the story. At the end of the day, that’s the only thing that matters. You could shoot your film on an iPhone by yourself, or you could shoot it on 35MM with a staff of 100. Audiences will embrace any aesthetic as long as the story strikes them at the core.
Truly, that’s what I want audiences to feel: moved at the core.
W&H: What advice do you have for other female directors?
CL: Never wait for permission to make your work.
Always surround yourself with a team that understands and supports your vision and working style. I’ve had times on set where a staff member doesn’t frame the way I want or intentionally does not follow directions. That is telling; don’t ignore it. Either communicate your needs again and work things out, or seek other staff that will work with you to achieve your vision.
Always be picky and trust your gut. Anytime I’ve made a mistake, I feel like I knew there were red flags — I just didn’t listen to myself.
Work with people who, as creatives, only want to do great work; that will help your work be great.
W&H: Name your favorite woman-directed film and why.
CL: Kathryn Bigelow’s “The Hurt Locker” is not only my favorite female-directed film, it also has one of my favorite cinematic moments.
Near the end of the film, we see Jeremy Renner’s character walk into a grocery store and stare down the cereal aisle. The options are endless and meaningless all at the same time. In light of where the character has been — deep in the throes of high intensity war — the idea of shopping for cereal feels so, well, flat.
It’s that kind of emotionally and visually powerful moment that I strive for in my work, saying so much about character and story without uttering a single word.
W&H: There have been significant conversations over the last couple of years about increasing the amount of opportunities for women directors yet the numbers have not increased. Are you optimistic about the possibilities for change? Share any thoughts you might have on this topic.
CL: I’m optimistic that we will see more work from more female directors in the near future. We have to believe that change is possible so that it can be.
I’m eager to push the idea that my gender is my superpower, because I think it’s the truth.
When I shot “Out of State,” I was a woman filming in an all-male prison. People would wonder how I could do it. My response? Being female was what got this film the kind of powerful content it has. It was my superpower. The dynamic between men in prison is very specific.There was a real opportunity for me, as a female, to offer a fresh, different dynamic.
For me, it’s about identifying how you can use your assets to be effective, and I’m grateful to know that one of mine is being female.
