Mari Walker is an award-winning director, writer, and editor. Films she has worked on have been screened at numerous film festivals including Sundance, SXSW, Frameline, and Outfest. Walker’s film “The Soul of a Tree” won Best Short Documentary at the Kerry Film Festival in 2016. “Swim,” her first narrative short, won an Audience Award at the 2017 Los Angeles Film Festival.

“See You Then” is screening at the 2021 SXSW Film Festival, which is taking place online March 16-20.

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

MW: A decade after abruptly breaking up with Naomi, Kris invites her to a dinner to catch up on their complicated lives, relationships, and Kris’ transition. Over the course of their one-night encounter, they engage in a series of increasingly intimate and vulnerable conversations before a shocking revelation is revealed.

We set out to make “See You Then” with a focus on the universal truth that no matter how much you change, a part of you will always stay the same.

W&H: What drew you to this story?

MW: In the summer of 2017, I was wrapping up the festival run of my first narrative short film, “Swim.” Growing up, I had many hopes and dreams for my life, and as I was heading into my third year of transitioning, I was now reflecting on the choices I had made and where they had led me, struggling at times with the sacrifices I had made along the way.

My friend and co-writer/producer Kristen Uno was living with me at this time and was also reflecting on her life decisions, her career, and personal relationships. We discussed the many expectations which are placed upon women by themselves, their families, and society. Often, we find ourselves in situations where there is no right answer, no single path forward.

We wanted to write a script that reflected this complicated, messy reality through a humanistic lens. This was the beginning of “See You Then.”

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

MW: I hope the film will provide a new perspective into the trans experience and spark a larger discussion around questions of identity, womanhood, and belonging. The aim of this story was never to focus on transitioning or trans-ness, but rather on the underlying humanity of these two characters and their lives.

While everyone may not relate to the individual histories of these characters, they can empathize with trying to fix a broken relationship or harboring regrets for one’s past behavior.

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

MW: In addition to shooting in large format with the Venice 6k and on an accelerated schedule of only thirteen days, the entire film takes place over a single evening. Filming at night posed multiple challenges for the cast and crew, but one of the most difficult was our inability to walk away from locations. Each morning, the crew had to pack up all of the equipment and load out, which built in an extra layer of exhaustion. Three weeks of overnights will push any crew to their physical and mental limits, much less in the middle of an exceptionally cold January in L.A.

Imagining “See You Then” in large format is one thing — actually filming in that format is another thing entirely. For one, the additional amount of money it costs to film large format can be very constraining to a small budget. Like every other part of the filmmaking process, you have to find your hills to die on and getting that Venice was one of my big hills. Our shallow depth of field also meant the camera team had their work cut out for them. Our 1st AC, Lauren Peele, had the immense responsibility of keeping everyone in focus.

It’s impossible to make a film like this without an incredible crew who not only know their jobs but are committed to telling the story you set out to make. In producing and directing a film, it’s essential to care for your crew and always give every member of your team respect and understanding, especially when they’re facing such difficult shooting conditions.

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

MW: It’s easy to say we funded “See You Then” through Wefunder, a crowd equity platform, but the story is not as simple as that. After we finished the script and built our pitch deck, we reached out to a number of production companies through Vanishing Angle. They all politely declined funding the film, often citing my lack of experience as a first-time director and the difficulty in finding an audience for queer and Asian-American content. The honest truth is that most production companies are still hesitant to support minority-driven material.

Knowing we weren’t making headway in that direction, we began to consider moving to a crowdfunding platform. I was always hesitant about this form, as it’s never felt adequate to have friends, family, and strangers donate to a project only to receive a copy of the movie and a small reward instead of financial participation. Around the same time, Jim Cummings was beginning to raise funds through Wefunder for his feature film, “The Beta Test.” He graciously showed me the platform and walked me through the process, and I was thrilled.

Crowd-equity allows investors to put in as little as $100 to own a piece of the film and whatever money we receive through distribution will be shared with them. It not only feels right to share profits with those entrepreneurial spirits who support the arts, but I also believe it allows them to have more pride in the film as it is finished and released. The Wefunder team is fantastic and now you can raise up to five million through the platform!

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

MW: My first memory is of being in a movie theater when my parents took me to a revival screening of “Bambi.” I cried when his mother was shot and I distinctly remember being carried out of the theater, the ghostly, blurry images striking the screen receding into the darkness.

I fell in love with telling stories at an early age. Being biracial and trans, I yearned to find universality within the stories I read and watched. I became attached to professions I saw in movies or shows until I realized in high school that I was more interested in telling stories than just absorbing them.

I’ve been inspired by all of the filmmakers who came before me, by the films that make us think or change who we are. I hope one day to add to that lineage and inspire filmmakers out there who can know that a director who is a biracial Asian-American trans woman was able to make films.

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

MW: The best advice I received was the knowledge of “the note behind the note.” When receiving criticism of your film, it’s important to hear what the note is but then to look beyond it. Consider where the note is coming from and what perspective that individual is bringing to their thought. More often than not, the specific note a person might give on the surface may not appear to be helpful but when you look deeper, you find an overarching note which ends up saving entire parts of one’s film.

The worst advice I’ve received is that being a combative director is someone coming from a position of strength. I think there are many filmmakers who believe that one should bully and cajole others into accepting their decisions, that being angry will let everyone know who’s in charge. It may come from a place of wanting to display strength, but it instead often disheartens the crew and makes them feel distrustful. Be kind. You have no idea what your cast and crew are going through on any given day.

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

MW: Even before transitioning, I was often told “You can’t do that.” Whether it was animating the opening of my short documentary, “The Soul of a Tree,” or that I shouldn’t shoot underwater for my short film, “Swim,” there have always been people who have doubted my vision.

As directors, we constantly have to subvert expectations and even more so as women, non-binary folks, and minority filmmakers. We face a steeper hill in almost every aspect and until we’re able to get into more positions of power to change the industry for the better, we will have to be strong in our filmmaking convictions and prove those who say “You can’t do it” wrong.

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

MW: What a difficult question! My current favorite is “Daughters of the Dust,” directed by the phenomenally talented Julie Dash. Her work is spectacular and lyrical, like a film caught in the embodiment of a dream. It’s a voice and style unlike so many others I’ve seen before, which is incredibly thrilling to me.

But if you’ll please indulge me! Although the list of great female filmmakers is mighty already, there are so many new voices coming up who will create our new favorite films. A few worth looking out for are Lynn Chen, Rachel Lambert, Kantú Lentz, Iris Devins, Dime Davis, Leah Shore, and Maria Bissell, to name just a few! They’re all going to continue making great films, so please support them!

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

MW: We finished filming on February 1, about a month-and-a-half from lockdown. Only a few days before, I had my first and only screening of the film with our producer, Mia Schulman. Since then, all of us have been cooped up in our homes, making few trips to the outside world that are work-related other than to drop off an occasional hard drive.

Typically, the Vanishing Angle process involves many rounds of screening through multiple stages of editing, honing in on the message by workingshopping it with various audiences.

We had very few screenings of “See You Then” throughout the pandemic, all of them virtual. Not being able to be in the room with an audience while test screening a film is an extremely nerve-racking experience. It’s hard to tell the temperature or tone of a scene after viewing a film, and as a director, I treasure that experience.

However, what came out of this very particular situation was probably the most painterly experience I’ve ever had with editing. Since everything was at a standstill, I was able to take the time to balance work and professional life for a few months, giving me the ability to step back from scenes for a few days to get the proper critical perspective. As I was editing, I gorged on thousands of movies, many of which were some of the best films ever made, which inspired me to push the edit as much as I was capable. It was a beautiful process which I doubt will turn out quite this way ever again.

Having a project to work on during the pandemic with a set finish goal kept me sane. Now that it’s finished, I am hoping to pivot to writing as we continue the festival process, though I can imagine it’ll be much more challenging to keep the momentum going.

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

MW: The actions that need to be taken are vast and multi-faceted. From my limited experiences with casting, I was blown away by the raw talent which exists in Los Angeles that remains untapped. That goes just as much for folks behind the camera as in front of it. Things must change and these artists must be given the opportunities to develop their voices and filmmaking abilities.

There are two actionable things I’d like to see the film industry do:

I think we need a much greater focus on curation, particularly as films are increasingly released PVOD and streaming. More and more films are being released each year, and if the pandemic has taught me anything, it’s that without a physical place for film fans to congregate, word of mouth has hit a standstill and I’m afraid many films in this period will be lost to the abyss of streaming services and rental platforms. It’s essential for an impartial, non-corporation-backed platform or organization to exist which can help recommend and give light to filmmakers who have distinct and unique voices and for those films not to be shut out by lack of press or access.

Second, what the industry needs is a streaming platform that’s the equivalent of what Roger Corman did for young filmmakers in the ’60s and ’70s — a company devoted to finding and supporting new voices, with budgets ranging from 100k-1.5 million which would go to female and POC first-time filmmakers. While it wouldn’t possess the power of spectacle that many streaming services use to attract customers, I do believe there is space for a streaming service like this to exist, supported by audiences and industry folks who subscribe to platforms like The Criterion Channel and MUBI.

These are only a couple of examples of what could be done to change things in the industry. It will take not only the incredible work of female filmmakers now, but far into the future. It will also require support from our allies. Many of the necessary changes will take years, maybe decades to complete, but we cannot give up on our missions to change the entertainment industry for the better.