Siân Heder is a writer, director, and showrunner. She wrote and produced three seasons of the acclaimed Netflix series “Orange Is the New Black,” receiving multiple WGA nominations for her work. Her other television credits include “Men of a Certain Age,” which earned her a Peabody Award. Her first short film, “Mother,” was awarded the Cinéfondation Jury Award at Cannes Film Festival. Heder’s debut feature film, “Tallulah,” starring Elliot Page and Alison Janney, premiered at the 2016 Sundance Film Festival and was released as a Netflix original.
“CODA” is screening at the 2021 Sundance Film Festival, which is taking place online and in person via Satellite Screens January 28-February 3.
W&H: Describe the film for us in your own words.
SH: “CODA” is the story of Ruby Rossi, a 17-year-old girl who is the only hearing person in her Deaf family. The Rossis are fishermen in Gloucester, Massachusetts, and have come to rely on Ruby both as their interpreter and her role in the family business.
When her passion for music threatens to pull her away from home, Ruby and her parents are forced to look at the dynamics they have built and make difficult decisions about their future.
The film is about finding your own identity outside of your family.
W&H: What drew you to this story?
SH: The film is a remake of a French film called “La Famille Bélier.” There was so much heart in the original film, but I was also excited to use that story as a jumping-off point to make something wholly my own. I spent a lot of time in Gloucester growing up and knew of the struggles of the fishing industry there. I was inspired to tell a story about a fishing family dealing with that upheaval.
I was also intrigued by the tension of a teenager trying to find her own identity as she straddles the hearing and the Deaf worlds. As someone who comes from a very loving, funny, but also boundary-less family, the search for your own identity as you separate from your parents was a theme that really resonated with me. It was a story that felt universal but also culturally specific.
Through my research into the world of CODAs — Children of Deaf Adults — and the Deaf community, it became more and more important to me to authentically represent this Deaf family and Deaf culture in a way that isn’t often seen in movies.
W&H: What do you want people to think about after they watch the film?
SH: I think many hearing people don’t have any experience of Deaf culture. People who have seen the film describe to me the powerful experience of watching scenes in American Sign Language, or ASL, and how any discomfort with that experience fades away as they become invested in the characters, their struggles, and their triumphs.
While I hope that people see the story as universal and relatable, I also hope they leave the film with a new awareness and appreciation for ASL and Deaf culture.
W&H: What was the biggest challenge in making the film?
SH: If I were to pinpoint the three areas that required the most ingenuity and creativity, I would say they are: working in ASL, music, and fishing. I studied ASL in preparation, but was in no way fluent by the time we were filming, so I was largely directing in a language that was not my own. I relied on my two ASL masters, Alexandria Wailes and Anne Tomasetti, to do creative interpretations of the script and to be by my side on set.
Initially, I found it challenging to work with actors through interpreters because someone was in the middle of that director-actor relationship. Also, not every interpreter would understand the nuance of a directing note, so I was worried that important information was being lost in translation.
After the first day, we found interpreters who could hang in the middle of that creative conversation, and my actors and I agreed to communicate directly. This way they could have the benefit of my emotion and expressions, while the interpreters could jump in at moments requiring clarification.
The music in the film provided another challenge because we wanted to capture so much of it live, working with real singers and a choir to get the emotional authenticity of the performances. I had a wonderful music team who were my guides in this process.
Lastly, the biggest logistical challenge of the film was the fishing scenes. This family works as “ground fishermen” or “draggers” in the script, which is a difficult thing to cheat in the harbor. We were shooting on location in Gloucester and in order to capture authenticity in these fishing scenes, my actors — Troy Kotsur, Daniel Durant, and Emilia Jones — spent many rehearsal days out at sea with local fisherman, learning how to gut fish, work the winch, and pull in the nets.
During production, with my marine coordinator, we took a hundred-person crew many miles out to sea in a flotilla of boats to go fishing. I’m just relieved I wasn’t the first person to get seasick – someone in the makeup department took that honor.
W&H: How did you get your film funded? Share some insights into how you got the film made.
SH: My producer, Patrick Wachsberger, had the rights to make the American version of “La Famille Bélier,” along with Philippe Rousselet and his company Vendôme Production. I was originally hired as a writer and director to develop the script at Lionsgate.
When Patrick left the studio, he took the project with him, financing it through Vendôme and Pathé. Ultimately, this was an amazing thing for the film as my producers — and financiers —allowed me to make the movie I wanted to make, in the way I wanted to make it.
I was given a lot of freedom to authentically cast the film with Deaf actors and to use pure ASL. I feel lucky that I had the right partners to tell this story.
W&H: What inspired you to become a filmmaker?
SH: I come from a family of visual artists and I’ve always loved storytelling. I think humans and human behavior is endlessly interesting. I started out as an actor, but writing was always my outlet. The more I was around film and filmmakers, the more I wanted to be the voice telling the story.
It was through a program called the Directing Workshop for Women at the American Film Institute where I tried my hand at directing. The first time I was on set making a short film felt like such a natural fit for me. I loved the way directing challenged every part of me, forced me to use every nook and cranny of my brain. It is both the hardest and most rewarding thing I’ve ever done.
W&H: What’s the best and worst advice you’ve received?
SH: Best advice: Bring an extra pair of shoes to set and change them halfway through the day! Also, any hole in your script will become a bigger hole in your movie. If I hear the same note more than once, I pay attention.
Worst advice: A former agent told me not to send out my feature writing sample. Mike Royce and Ray Romano were staffing “Men of a Certain Age” and I had met Mike socially and was trying to get my first TV staffing job. My agent told me he wouldn’t send it, saying, “It’s too dark and not ‘comedy’ enough for them.” I ignored him and emailed the sample to Mike, who hired me and began my career as a TV writer.
Now that I am on the other side, as a showrunner who reads writers all the time, I think it was horrible advice. When I read samples, I’m not looking for my own voice, I’m looking for someone with a unique voice and perspective. So if you have something that is purely you, always lead with that.
Also, my first short film got rejected from 11 film festivals before it got into competition at Cannes. And then my first feature took nine years to make. There were so many people along the way who suggested it was time to let it go. Or turn over the movie to someone who could get it made. But I believed in its value and kept fighting. On the first day of shooting “Tallulah,” my agent gave me a bottle of champagne to pop and nine years later, we drank it together on set. It was still good.
W&H: What advice do you have for other women directors?
SH: Hang on to your own material. Don’t be talked out of controlling your own project. And know your worth. I still feel self-conscious when I ask for more money, or ask for housing with an extra bedroom so I can bring my kids with me when I shoot. But I’ve learned to ask for what I need so I can be good at my job and deliver something great at the end of the day.
W&H: Name your favorite woman-directed film and why.
SH: There are so many. I love “Fish Tank” by Andrea Arnold. It was one of the films that inspired me to start directing.
W&H: How are you adjusting to life during the COVID-19 pandemic? Are you keeping creative, and if so, how?
SH: I haven’t had a babysitter since last March, so a lot of my creativity involves making up “Star Wars” fan fiction with a five-year-old, or figuring out how to trick a first-grader into sitting in her chair during a Zoom lesson. We’ve made soap, sushi, and really bad bread, and I’m deeply running out of ideas.
It’s also been a time to step back, read books, get ideas, and look at my own work to figure out what to make next.
Sadly, a lot of the time for creativity has been sucked up by doomscrolling Twitter and obsessively reading the New York Times.
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 Hollywood and/or the doc world more inclusive?
SH: We are in a moment where conversations about inclusivity and what it means are finally moving forward and gaining traction, hopefully leading to real change.
I think more artists of color or from groups with a history of being marginalized — whether they are women, the LGBTQ community, or the disability community — need to be empowered and put in leadership positions. Most importantly, they need to be financed to tell their stories. And anyone who is already in a position to get something made — filmmaker, producer, or studio exec — needs to think about the stories they choose to tell and why.
I feel like I can contribute to this change through who I chose to collaborate with and hire. Similarly, mentor other artists who are just coming up. Reach back and pull others up the ladder.
