Jeanie Finlay is British documentary filmmaker. Her films tell small and intimate stories to international audiences, whether inviting them behind the scenes of Teesside’s last record shop (“Sound It Out”), or onto the set of the world’s biggest television show (“Game Of Thrones: The Last Watch”). Finlay has directed eight features. Her films, although varied in subject matter, share an empathetic approach to bringing overlooked and untold stories to the screen.

“Seahorse” will premiere at the 2019 Tribeca Film Festival on April 27.

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

JF: “Seahorse” tells the story of Freddy, a young, gay, transgender man who wants to start a family by getting pregnant and carrying the baby himself. In the beginning, it’s a pragmatic choice, but it soon becomes enormously challenging.

It’s a very intimate and emotional film full of tenderness, heartache, and joy.

W&H: What drew you to this story?

JF: Meeting Freddy made me reflect deeply on my own experiences of being pregnant and becoming a parent, and the ways in which these changes affected my own sense of identity in unpredictable and unfathomable ways. After becoming a parent, I felt like I was now outlined in bold, amplified by the time and the experience of pregnancy, of giving birth, and having a child to love and look after.

I was intrigued and fascinated by how this would affect Freddy, a transgender man — someone who had already experienced profound physical and emotional transitions in his life. How would this new emotional and mercurial experience affect him? What would be the impact on his sense of identity? What would the small, personal, domestic, and intimate details of that experience be, and what would they look like on film for an audience?

I was very touched by the idea that he had once watched a documentary about transgender kids and it had enabled him to articulate that he was trans. Could the film we made together also have that impact for someone else that we haven’t met?

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

JF: I hope that audiences are able to embrace both the complexity of Freddy’s journey and the simple idea that Freddy is a man and that his gender didn’t change when he got pregnant and gave birth. He was male at every single stage of his pregnancy and experienced it as a man. It’s a simple but profound idea and is new or unfamiliar to many people.

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

JF: There were a lot of challenges. Would Freddy get pregnant? Could he get pregnant? Would we be able to film in hospital locations? Would I be there when he went into labor to film to capture the birth? I camped out for two weeks before his due date to try to ensure I would be. The film was a huge risk for all involved, there were no guarantees of anything.

The biggest challenge was that making a film is hard. It’s one thing to initiate a project when you’re feeling strong and ready to take on the world. But what happens if you’re going through one of the most emotionally challenging experiences of your life and a filmmaker is there to capture it all? It was important for all of us that we honored the story and didn’t just capture the easy bits of the journey, but that meant it was sometimes very difficult for everyone.

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

JF: Our film is made up of a number of partners: BBC presents a Grain Media production in association with Glimmer Films and The Guardian.

Grain Lab invested development money, and we raised additional development from Wellcome Trust. The Guardian were also on-board right from the beginning, and this is their first feature documentary project. After some initial filming and a development taster, we had some broadcaster interest. As this is a film for cinema, we were also able to draw down money from the UK Tax credit.

It was vital for us that we were able to keep the promises we made as a filmmaking team, and that is only possible if your broadcast partner is the right fit, particularly given the sensitivities around telling transgender stories. We wanted to work with a broadcaster who didn’t want to make sensationalist, tabloid television. We knew that working with BBC Storyville on BBC2 would allow us to make a film with sensitivity, offer a large audience, and be the best home for our film. It is my fourth Storyville.

We took the film to the IDFA forum and, although we had a lot of interest, we had our production budget in place, so we knew that by not accepting pre-sales we would have more options when the film was finished. We’re now working with Submarine Entertainment on sales.

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

JF: I come from an art background, and I picked up a film camera when I realized that the conversations I had while photographing people were “the work”—so I started to record them. The resulting artwork was “Home-Maker,” an interactive documentary.

My first film, “Teenland,” was commissioned by the BBC when I was six months pregnant. When I showed the film in a cinema and felt the audience reaction, I knew that I had found what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.

In all of my films, I want to find a moment of intimacy or emotional connection with audience. It is all about emotion.

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

JF: Best advice: I think about something that Chris Newman, a producer”Game of Thrones,” said a lot—that you can’t allow yourself to be overwhelmed by the scale of any project.  “You can only eat the meal in front of you.”

Worst Advice: That bullshitting people is ever worthwhile or a good way to go. Why lie? I am open with funders and partners about the challenges in a project. It’s their project too, and they need to be aware of what is happening and we need to problem solve as a team—it’s no use saying “everything is fine” if everything around you is in flames.

Someone also told me to write all my questions down. I spend most of my time observing, listening, engaging, and responding, and I often have to change what I had planned because life has changed. A list of questions gets in the way of really seeing and feeling what is happening.

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

JF: Don’t wait for permission to direct. Go make your film. Make mistakes, learn, make better films.

Follow your gut instinct—if you are fascinated by a story, then it’s likely that audiences will also connect with it.

I believe true intimacy trumps fancy cinematography any day of the week, so don’t be afraid to build relationships with people and just get started.

I have mentored a number of women through Raising Films who are returning to filmmaking after having children, and I have noticed a hesitancy and a lack of confidence, particularly after being out of the workplace for a while. With documentary, if you have your kit, there is the luxury of being able to get out there and start. Strength comes with practice.

Employ the best people on your crews and make sure that you let women be in the running for the jobs. On “Seahorse” and “Game of Thrones: The Last Watch” I had predominantly female crews—over 65 percent. Each one of them is the best person for their respective job.

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

JF: I really love Carol Salter’s “Almost Heaven.” It’s a documentary about a spa for the dead in China. A young girl, thousands of miles from home, has to overcome her fear of ghosts to tend to the dead. Amongst the surreal and sad scenarios, she also falls in love and starts her adult life.

Salter made this hugely powerful, intimate documentary on her own, on a tiny camera, capturing so many small intimate moments. Just brilliantly poetic and moving filmmaking.

Best recent watch: “Out of Blue” by Carol Morley.

W&H: It’s been a little over a year since the reckoning in Hollywood and the global film industry began. What differences have you noticed since the #MeToo and #TimesUp movements launched?

JF: I think social change takes a long time, and I feel that we are at the very beginning of a long journey of change. The actions that spawned the movement were just the start.