Stacey Lee’s work focuses on humanity, music, and movement. Her documentary short “Live Fast Draw Yung” premiered at Tribeca in 2015, winning awards in Atlanta and Tacoma. She was recently shortlisted for the Cannes Young Directors Award and selected as part of the DGA/AICP Diversity Showcase. “Underplayed” marks her feature debut.

“Underplayed” will screen at the 2020 Toronto International Film Festival, which is taking place September 10-20.

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

SL: “Underplayed” explores issues surrounding gender, sexual, and racial inequality through the lens of electronic music. Filmed over the summer 2019 festival season, and told through the perspectives of some of the genre’s leading pioneers, mainstage headliners, and the most interesting producers and DJs in the underground scene, it gives a deeply personal and urgent insight into an industry that is not only dramatically underrepresenting women, but diversity in all its forms.

Less than three percent of technical roles in the music industry are performed by women. Less than 0.3 percent are performed by women of color. In today’s “progressive” world, something is drastically out of sync.

W&H: What drew you to this story? 

SL: I was drawn to this story because, as a female filmmaker, I felt a lot of parallels between the experiences of the artists in electronic music with my own. As an Annenburg study reported, less than four percent of 1,200 Hollywood productions were directed by women.

But what was really fascinating to me is that a lot of the inventions and albums that led to the four billion dollar electronic music industry we know today were pioneered by women tinkering away in their science labs and home recording studios.

Furthermore, as genres like house and techno began to develop and evolve, they were borne from some of the most diverse communities: Black, Brown, Latino and LGBT communities coming together to create a safe space to express themselves, and where everyone felt welcome. And yet today, in all the major measures of success — top 100 lists, highest paid lists, festival lineups, and label representation — the diversity and inclusivity of the industry’s roots are not reflected. 

In 2019, only five of the top 100 DJs were female. And the numbers get worse the more intersectional you go. Why is this happening, how is this happening, and what can be done to reverse the statistics were all urgent questions that drew me to the story — and perhaps inspired me to find solutions that might resonate within the film industry and beyond.

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

SL: I want people to feel a sense of action and responsibility. Whether they are into electronic music or not, gender equality is a universal issue. It is something that can be seen in many industries today, from film to tech to politics to science. The World Economic Forum says it is going to take over a century to close the gender gap, so it is on all of us to work every day to help bring about this change as fast as we can. 

Once you start recognizing gender inequality, you start to see inequality taking place across the board in all its forms – sexual, racial, ethnic, et cetera. And it’s not the responsibility of the underrepresented to solve the problem; it is on the people with power, with a voice, with a platform to help bring about this change.

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

SL: The biggest challenge was trying to tell a coherent story while profiling the perspectives of so many different artists and industry leaders from all walks of life. It was important to me that the audience felt a sense of intimacy and familiarity with each of the characters, and that takes time. So it was about striking the right balance between breadth of perspectives, and depth of human connection.

W&H: How did you get your film funded?

SL: The film was funded by Bud Light Canada. They have done a lot of work in supporting female artists, including funding workshops to enable more women to come up through the pipelines and get on to main stages, and use their platform to raise awareness about the issue. While they are supporting the film through marketing and promotion, the film itself is an isolated piece of journalism devoid of overt branding and marketing messaging. It’s a pure documentary in all its forms with the issues front and center, no matter how uncomfortable some of them are to tell. 

Patagonia and Airbnb have similarly supported critically acclaimed films in the past two years. It is a new field of funding, and one that I hope continues to ensure stories of this nature get the opportunity to be heard.

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

As a New Zealander who spent a large proportion of my life looking up and out at the rest of the world, I am hugely drawn to human stories and the many ways in which we can find a deeply personal connection with a complete stranger through the unifying experiences like music, movement, and sport.

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

SL: Best advice: If something is not coming easy or naturally, then perhaps don’t push so hard. This can be applied in life, but in film — and particularly in the subjects you choose for your film — it makes such a big difference. 

If you are coming up against obstacle after obstacle securing a single interview, then chances are it’s going to be reflected in the content. You are going to waste hours trying to get a single soundbite, when there are 10 other people out there with potentially way more interesting stories who will gladly take the opportunity and deliver something way more potent. It took me a while to realize that with this project, but when I did the film really opened up and took on a life of its own.

Worst advice: That you have to act like a dick in order to be respected and get people to work hard. In my opinion, the best projects are the ones where everyone feels nurtured and fulfilled. That’s when people go the extra mile — when it’s more than a 9 to 5, they are compelled to do their best, and they feel a personal sense of ownership and investment in the outcome. That kind of love and passion shows in the work.

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

SL: Say yes to every opportunity, because you never know which project will be the one that gets greenlit and changes the course of your career.

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

SL: Right now, it is Céline Sciamma’s “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.” I was blown away by the emotional intensity, visual potency, and cinematic richness in a film that was essentially shot on one location with no music score! Wow!

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

SL: COVID certainly whipped up its share of challenges, especially as it came to finishing a feature under remote conditions. We were fortunate enough to have excellent partners who found very creative workarounds to ensure the film still inched its way forward.

I also used the time to develop two new documentary projects, which I hope to be filming once the industry opens back up again in 2021.

W&H: Recent protests in the U.S. and abroad have highlighted racism and anti-Black police brutality. 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?

SL: Use the opportunities you get to give opportunities to other underrepresented points of view who deserve the chance too. Inclusion Riders are one way to ensure diversity is embedded into your production. It’s basically a contract that states “I will only work on this project if we hire at least X number of people of color (or diversity in all its forms).”

As a director, we not only have a huge say in the subjects we work with, but also the crews we hire, so we can make a massive impact simply by hiring and working with diversity in mind. Never in a tokenistic way; you don’t need to. There is incredible talent out there — you just need to look. They are there.