Radha Blank is performer, writer, and director. A Helen Merrill Award recipient, Blank’s acclaimed play “Seed” was deemed “fresh, lively…and poetic” by the Huffington Post. She’s since written for Fox’s “Empire” and Netflix’s “She’s Gotta Have It.” Blank’s script for “The 40-Year-Old Version” was chosen for The 2017 Sundance Directors and Screenwriters Labs and garnered the 2017 Adrienne Shelly Women’s Filmmaker Award and the 2018 Maryland Film Festival Producers Club Award. Variety just named her one of 10 directors to watch in 2020.

“The 40-Year-Old Version” will premiere at the 2020 Sundance Film Festival on January 25.

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

RB: The movie is about a woman who vacillates between two New York art scenes that represent two parts of herself — her heart and her mind — in order to find her voice.

It’s my love letter to New York, to my mother, and to the struggling New York artist. It’s also my love letter to the New York institutions of hip hop and theater—forces that loved and groomed me but we’re also, at times, not so loving to me as I grew as an artist in New York.

W&H: What drew you to this story?

RB: It was less about being drawn and more like an exorcism. I had to get it out. I had experienced so much rejection and loss over a period of time I had to perform and create to get through it.

“The 40-Year-Old Version” gave me a place to work through a lot of my grief from losing my mother and get over my fears around turning 40, but the movie also gave me a chance to insert a not-often-seen character into the canon of New York stories. I’m a native New Yorker and just wanted to celebrate that.

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

RB: I’ve learned from working in theater to be open when it comes to what an audience might walk away with. It always surprises me what people respond to. I do hope people see New York from a new angle. Though this kind of artist’s journey is something we may be familiar with, this kind of New York protagonist, and these pockets of New York aren’t often seen on screen—or at all.

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

RB: Being in the film. It damn near drained me. It was absolutely worth it but there were times when I was so tired I couldn’t think straight. I’m not sure if my acting in the movie was as good as my acting like I wasn’t as brain-fucked as I was.

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

RB: Lena Waithe. She was the plug. We’d been friends for a while. Me, Lena, and Rishi Rajani—who runs her company, Hillman Grad—were at Sundance in 2019 sitting in Eccles Theater and she literally asked me what was up with my movie. I’d been there to see films, but I was also there to have some meetings. I hadn’t found a financier yet and this was after years of vetting. She asked me one simple question: “You gonna let me help you make your movie or nah?”

All I had to say was yes. She and Rishi ran with it around town, then with the help of Theresa Kang-Lowe at WME, where we’re both repped by, the project got connected to Jordan Fudge at New Slate Ventures. He’s been such a gift to the making of this film. I’m not sure if it’s because he loved the script or if it’s because he’s also a person of color but it was a no-brainer for Jordan. “The Forty-Year-Old Version” was not this huge risk for him, Lena, nor Rishi.

I think the takeaway here is to be open. The source might be right in front of you. Also, we need to grow and support more queer folk and people of color financiers out there! That’s who got behind this movie. Folks stepping out of the margins to pull me and my movie out of the margins. Amen?!

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

RB: My mother was a cinephile. She turned me on to the most amazing films during my childhood. Shit that was maybe not for kids, like “Repulsion,” “The Vampire Killers,” “Night of the Hunter,” or “The Lost Weekend,” but through her I also learned who John Cassavetes, Woody Allen, Oscar Micheaux, and Sidney Lumet were.

It took me a while to articulate that I wanted to be a filmmaker but I knew very early on that films were important to me. My mom planted the seed and it was in Professor Jerry Carlson’s Film 101 class at The City College of New York where the seeds blossomed. It was in his class that I saw “Citizen Kane,” “Diamonds in the Night,” and “Cinema Paradiso.” I cried forever after seeing that final scene in “Cinema Paradiso,” and I couldn’t believe that someone could make me feel so much emotion with just a series of shots. I then realized how powerful a medium film was.

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

RB: Best advice: When I told Terence Nance I wanted to shoot on 35mm black and white film but was getting so much push-back he said “Nah! You must. You have to. You got this!”

The worst advice came from everyone who told me not to shoot on 35mm black & white film.

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

RB: Surround yourself with people who can affirm your voice and power. People who won’t expect you to shrink or apologize for your talent, position, or opportunity. I feel like society constantly does this to women—asks them to keep earning their spot or being grateful for an opportunity to tell a story when we just want to fucking work. I don’t see this happen as often with my male counterparts. Also, you will need your entire backbone to pull this shit off. Though women have been conditioned to play the supporting role in this world, you must believe in your ability to not only complete your film but to lead others in helping you to do so. So many people saw me making this film as first time director as a risk. Not Lena. She believed from the very beginning. It’s important to have folks like that around you. And it’s most important that when all else fails, you trust the story was born in you for a reason. To be made.

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

RB: It’s a tie between “Fish Tank” by Andrea Arnold and “Losing Ground” by Kathleen Collins. The weight of silence in Andrea’s films [stands out]. It punches me in the gut. “Fish Tank” was so guttural and raw and honest. Like all of Andrea’s films, unflinching, unapologetically funky, female, and real. Like I can smell the sweat off her subjects. I love her body of work.

And Kathleen — what a treasure. Through her one feature film I saw an exploration of a black woman’s interior in a way I’d never seen before. A black woman with a crisis of identity. Is what she’s doing, how she’s living, enough? Where many black women characters have been presented as fiery, sassy, all-knowing, sanctified, pained, or put-upon, Kathleen — and the amazing Seret Scott — created a woman who was quietly contemplating herself. And who, much like the protagonist in my film, was a grown woman still trying to figure shit out. Also loved Kathleen’s eye on New York of the 80’s: a rich, loud, audacious New York full of struggling artists and immigrants. A New York before consumerism and gentrification watered down its bite. When people still had that New Yawk accent.

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

RB: There is more awareness around the visibility of women in the industry on sets and a more of a vested interest in protecting people and their intellectual property from the force that is patriarchy and other forms of abuse. Like the fact that there are more “intimacy coaches” on sets. It’s almost insane we haven’t had access to them sooner. But I see more energy invested in creating safer and more inclusive work environments.