Over the next month, we at IDA will be introducing our community to the filmmakers whose work is represented in the DocuWeeks^TM Theatrical Documentary Showcase, which runs from August 12 through September 1 in New York City and August 19 through September 8 in Los Angeles. We asked the filmmakers to share the stories behind their films--the inspirations, the challenges and obstacles, the goals and objectives, the reactions to their films so far.

So, to continue this series of conversations, here is Robert James, director/producer, with Ondi Timoner, of Library of Dust.

Synopsis: Thousands of corroded copper urns containing the cremated remains of unclaimed psychiatric patients were discovered in 2004. A tour of the Oregon State Hospital involving the local press and a state senator was conducted to uncover the deplorable conditions of the hospital. What they didn't expect to find was a storeroom full of human ashes dating back to the late 1800s. Photos are taken of the mysterious corrosive effect on the canisters, and several histories of these forgotten souls are revealed in this unique tale.

IDA: How did you get started in documentary filmmaking?

Robert James: I took a few film classes at City College in San Francisco as a mid-life career change after making travel videos and discovering IMovie on my Apple for editing. After two semesters I saw DIG!, Ondi Timoner's award-winning doc, and was so inspired by the edginess of it that I contacted her on Facebook. We eventually met, I traveled the world with her and assisted on her film at the time and then pitched the idea of Library of Dust to her while doing shots of Mezcal in Oaxaca, Mexico. She agreed, and we made it.

IDA: What inspired you to make Library of Dust?

RJ: I went to a gallery showing in San Francisco three years ago of six-foot photos by David Maisel of the canisters of ashes that had been discovered in the Oregon State Hospital. I was so intrigued by the story of these lost souls that I approached Maisel about making a film. He resisted at first, but once I started working with Ondi, he knew I was serious and agreed to help me piece the story together.

RJ: The Oregon State Hospital was constantly changing staff, and at one point a new PR staff member called me during our shoot and told me we couldn't shoot any of the hospital exteriors. At that moment we were shooting an interview using an exterior background; I just told her, "Okay." Also, getting the senator, who is pivotal in our film, was a challenge. We didn't know we were actually going to get his interview until about two hours before we did it. I had a daily heart attack leading up to his final consent.

IDA: How did your vision for the film change over the course of the pre-production, production and post-production processes?

RJ: Like all, or at least many, documentaries, the story takes different courses as you meet new people. In pre-production we thought Maisel's personal story of the canister discovery was very important. As we moved forward, his story became more and more diminished. During production we got involved with stories of current and past hospital staff and patients. As we got to post, we didn't end up using much of that footage. While shooting I was very interested in filming the crematorium. My co-director couldn't see the need; we ended up opening our film with that footage.

IDA:  As you've screened Library of Dust--whether on the festival circuit, or in screening rooms, or in living rooms--how have audiences reacted to the film? What has been most surprising or unexpected about their reactions?

RJ: People seem moved by it, but more from the mysteries of our story than an emotional response. We were worried about our beginning, which showed an actual cremation, and how people would react. Everyone has loved it and we are so pleased, since we do too. I am most surprised when people shrug their shoulders and say "Eh...." and have no reaction.

IDA: What docs or docmakers have served as inspirations for you?

RJ: My co-director, Ondi Timoner, changed my idea of what a doc could be by showing that docs can be thrilling. I also love Amy Berg. Deliver Us From Evil chilled me to the bone.

My current favorite directors are Seth Gordon, who made King of Kong: A Fist Full of Quarters, and Michael Stephensen, who made The Best Worst Movie. Both showed that any tiny subject, whether it be a video game competition or an homage to a bad film, can be entertaining if the right person tells the story--especially if the subject is one you couldn't care less about, but you end up caring about due to the filmmaking.

Library of Dust will be screening August 19 through 26 at the Laemmle Sunset 5 in Los Angeles.

For the complete DocuWeeks^TM 2011 program, click here.

To purchase tickets for Library of Dust and the rest of the films in the DocuWeeks Los Angeles Shorts Program, click here.

Jennifer Arnold (A Small Act) has officially signed on to join Michele Ohayon (S.O.S/State of Security, Colors Straight Up) and Lauren Greenfield (Thin) on the Women Behind the Camera panel as a part of Doc U on Monday, August 15 at 7pm. Moderated by producer Lucy Webb, these accomplished women filmmakers will discuss the rewards, challenges and opportunities women face in producing and directing documentary films.

This special engagement is one night only. The night's conversation will be followed by an audience Q&A and a reception on the Cinefamily's backyard Spanish patio.

Over the next month, we at IDA will be introducing our community to the filmmakers whose work is represented in the DocuWeeks^TM Theatrical Documentary Showcase, which runs from August 12 through September 1 in New York City and August 19 through September 8 in Los Angeles. We asked the filmmakers to share the stories behind their films--the inspirations, the challenges and obstacles, the goals and objectives, the reactions to their films so far.

So, to continue this series of conversations, here is Michèle Ohayon, director/producer/writer of S.O.S./State of Security.

Synopsis: January 2001. Nine months before the attacks of 9/11, Richard Clarke briefs Condoleezza Rice on a strategy to "deter, defeat, and respond vigorously to" al-Qaeda. Clarke's proposal is dismissed. He resigns before the Iraq War. In March 2004, Clarke memorably declares before the 9/11 Commission, "I failed you. Your government failed you." S.O.S. / State of Security unveils Clarke's dramatic 30-year career in the White House as counter-terrorism czar and head of cyber security. The film offers a rare look at the people behind national security--military generals, the CIA, hackers, veterans and ambassadors who are speaking out.

IDA: How did you get started in documentary filmmaking?

Michèle Ohayon: I went to Tel Aviv University to study film and television, and wanted to focus my first films on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I didn't feel that the times were right for a comedy.  Through a documentary, by spending intimate time with my subjects living under military occupation and in refugee camps, I could show my people that not everyone is a terrorist. That was my way of encouraging dialogue between the two people, and contributing to the effort of peace.

When I moved to LA, I still focused on the underdog.  I am not really interested in the rich and famous; they don't need me to have a voice. My first documentary in the USA was about hidden homeless women (It Was A Wonderful Life); my next documentaries focused on kids in South Central LA (Colors Straight Up), a couple in concentration camps (Steal a Pencil for Me), and the myth of the macho cowboy (Cowboy Del Amor).

IDA: What inspired you to make S.O.S./State of Security?

MO: I started the film during the George W. Bush Administration. I was disillusioned by America being the "promised land," as seen through the eyes of a foreigner, and quite appalled by the political apathy both in the White House and among us, the people. September 11 was an obvious wake-up call, but having grown up in Israel, I was used to security and terror as part of my life. When Richard Clarke published Against All Enemies and when he publicly stated, "Your government failed you," I was intrigued by his dramatic arc. He joined government to fulfill a dream and answer a call by President John F. Kennedy to contribute, and then throughout 30 years of service, he fought to be heard. His truth, followed by a resignation, was for me the story of a nation--from dream to disillusionment--and a story worth telling, one of a failed national security and a nation led down a false path.

However, I had a great challenge ahead of me: How do you tell this story in images? How do you visualize "National Security"--an abstract, intellectual concept? And Clarke, being a secretive figure, was not my typical subject, as he would not let me be "in his face" with a camera--not even as a fly on the wall.

However, when I met him in Washington, DC--a meeting arranged by his team, all former Capitol Hill guys--I was inspired by his clarity and accessible analysis of the status of the United States in the world of today. Whether I agreed with him or not, his willingness to speak out deserved recognition. Despite his resignation, he still believed that youth should serve and participate, something that I could relate to on a personal level. That was for me the link to my world, something I search for when I approach a new film. In some ways, I need to make it mine so I can feel it and let the audience experience what I do.

IDA: What were some of the challenges and obstacles in making this film, and how did you overcome them?

MO: The challenge is always funding. Part of the budget fell through in the midst of shooting, when the market crashed. Another challenge, as mentioned before, was how to visualize the big words "National Security." Also, the Department of Homeland Security was unfriendly, knowing that Clarke, a controversial figure, was involved in the project. He was always very vocal and critical of the national security failures, and spoke against the bloated Department of Homeland Security, created by Bush after 9/11, to show that his administration was doing something, as Clarke states. I couldn't get their reaction, I couldn't get current CIA or FBI members for obvious reasons, and I now had a film in the can but I had hit a dead end. I had to shut down production for nine months. I knocked on every door to find funding to help finish the film, in the worse economic climate at the time.

Many sleepless nights later, I found my angel: Sidney Kimmel. He had a passion for the subject, and agreed to give me finishing funds.

As for the images, my editor, Edgar Burcksen, with whom I had worked on Colors Straight Up, and my very talented DP, Theo Van De Sande, and I came up with a visual language and cutting pace that would tell history without lingering on it. I had to tell the past in order to explain the present. And how to work around the interviews and try to tell the story in as many images as possible? We ended up with 2,000 cuts!

IDA: How did your vision for the film change over the course of the pre-production, production and post-production processes?

MO: My vision took an inevitable turn when, in the midst of production, Obama was elected. The sharp criticism of Clarke was almost in the way of the euphoric atmosphere of the "Change" campaign, so I had to take the film on a different path--more about the solutions, rather than the failures. On the other hand, many of my subjects who had left government went back to serve under Obama, which was a good ending to their story!

IDA:  As you've screened S.O.S./State of Security--whether on the festival circuit, or in screening rooms, or in living rooms--how have audiences reacted to the film? What has been most surprising or unexpected about their reactions?

MO: Berlin was astonishing because the audience expressed a fundamental desperation after the film. They asked me, "If the United States could fail on the national security front, what are we going to do? Who shall we look up to?" I had then understood how dependent the world was on us, and that we could never afford to let them down.

In Sarajevo the admiration for President Clinton, who had saved the day for them at the end of their civil war, was an unforgettable deed that is shown in the film, and it got their applause.

 At the Jerusalem Film Festival, the Israelis, who are very critical when security is concerned, were very moved and told me at the Q&A that it is in fact a mirror on the issues they are facing, and they asked if I would be willing to make the same film about Israeli national security. I declined with all my might. One is enough.

At the Museum of Modern Art in New York we had a screening, with Susan Rice, the US Ambassador to the UN, in attendance,  as well as the Israeli ambassador. I think that half of the audience was Secret Service from both countries, and it felt very safe. Rice's reaction, as well as that of the New York/Washington, DC crowd, was positive beyond my expectations. We also showed the film to foreign policy makers. I was accompanied by Wendy Chamberlin, the former Ambassador to Pakistan, an extraordinary woman whom I got to know throughout the film. Again and again, I was amazed how chapters in history, whether failures or victories, are made by individuals and are bound to bear fatal mistakes.

IDA: What docs or docmakers have served as inspirations for you?

MO: The early Michael Apted films (7 Up), the early Barbara Kopple films. Films about overcoming obstacles as best we can, while keeping our integrity and humanism.

S.O.S./State of Security will be screening August 19 through 25 at the Laemmle Sunset 5 in Los Angeles, and August 26 through September 1 at the IFC Center in New York City.

For the complete DocuWeeks^TM 2011 program, click here.

To purchase tickets for S.O.S./State of Security in Los Angeles, click here.

To purchase tickets for S.O.S./State of Security in New York, click here.

Growing up in suburban Chicago in the late '50s, I wasn't tuned in to European Formula One (F1) racing, which pitted agile and fast Ferraris against Maseratis and other automotive exotica. For my gang of friends, watching A. J. Foyt driving his front-engined, Offenhauser-powered cars at the annual Indianapolis 500 was the race of all auto races.  Little did I know, outside of the safe boundaries of my Midwestern myopia, that race around a circle track was derided as being about a bunch of hicks making one long left turn while driving cumbersome, uninteresting cars.

That image was sealed when, at the end of the Indy race, the winner would celebrate victory with a cold bottle of milk. Cold milk, compared to the traditional Grand Prix winner's celebration of champagne: What more proof did one need that we Americans were hopeless rubes?

This is a rather long-winded explanation of why it took me years to overcome my ignorance of how the rest of world sees motorsports. The myth of American exceptionalism was reinforced with our cultural blackout of other forms of auto-racing, and even football. While the rest of the world played a game of agility--what we call soccer--we were fixated on a head-bashing game of inches reminiscent of World War One trench warfare. So, mea culpa, I admit that I didn't get why 527 million people follow Formula One, or riot over soccer. 

After seeing a new documentary, Senna, which follows the remarkable racing exploits of the Brazilian Ayrton Senna as he climbs the ladder from go-kart-driving teenager to win the F1 World Championship three times, I can't imagine anyone not being hooked by the drivers and the spectacle of human beings piloting autos through hair-splitting curves at speeds in excess of 200 mph. The appeal of soccer still eludes me, but if a filmmaker can uncover the "fly on the wall" footage chronicling the exploits and behind-the-scenes drama of a star player the way director Asif Kapadia did for Senna, then soccer might have a chance with me.

To create Senna, Kapadia had to convince Bernie Ecclestone, the billionaire czar of Formula One (whose daughter Petra recently purchased the sprawling Beverly Hills mansion of Aaron Spelling for a reported $85 million), that letting him rummage through and use his archival footage would be a good idea.

Kapadia secured a meeting with Ecclestone and brought him a gift--a photo of famed Grand Prix driver Tazio Nuvolari standing beside his Alfa Romeo after he defeated the German team at the 1935 German Grand Prix. This has become one of the most famous races and exploits of man over machine, pitting Nuvolari against the monstrously fast Mercedes and Auto Union teams that were partly funded by the Nazis as an important part of their propaganda efforts. His come-from-behind, spectacular finish mesmerized the 300,000 fans who couldn't believe this Italian upstart driving an old Alfa Romeo had defeated a pack of the most powerful cars on the planet. He was hailed as the greatest driver in history. What better way to warm up Ecclestone as Kapadia pitched him the story of Ayrton Senna, a driver whose life followed Nuvolari's never-give-up credo?

After sitting down in Ecclestone's office, Kapadia handed him the photo. The tycoon looked at the photo and smiled, then told the hopeful filmmaker that he owned that car. He also owned "every shot taken on the track," he said. The film would be impossible without the blessing of the F1 emperor.

The charm offensive must have worked. Kapadia was afforded unfettered access to the F1 archives and quickly discovered that there was more footage there then he'd imagined.  When combined with footage from Japanese television and Brazil's Globo TV, which exhaustively covered the hometown hero, he knew he could make this film.

His vision of a film told exclusively using this wealth of archival material began to come into focus. He was amazed to see the day-in-a-life footage--Senna at home with his family, growing up and racing go-karts, going on dates with super models--and race footage--practice sessions, heated discussions with officials over rules, arguments with fellow drivers, drama in the pits and the stunning, on-board material that puts us behind the wheel. Kapadia could tell this story using the exact footage of every moment. "We're not cheating it," he maintains. "This is all on camera." 

The filmmaker decided that the best way to tell the story was "to just show the people in the film" and not cut away to talking-head interviews "with a plant or bookshelf in the background," or cut in still photos. Off-camera interviews with people "who had been there" would fill in the narrative gaps.

While that might work dramatically--and it does--there was a budget issue. The producers who'd hired Kapadia (James Gay-Rees, Tim Bevan, Eric Fellner) had only budgeted for "40 minutes of archive," he says. One reason to use on-camera interviews is they act as filler and you don't have to use as much archive. Like the racer in his story, Kapadia set his sites on the objective and motored ahead, convinced he'd win. He produced a "seven-hour-long first cut, then a five and then a two" and eventually the powers-that-be began to believe that it made sense to let the archive tell the story. Somehow they found the extra money, and Kapadia whittled down the final run time to 104 minutes.

The end result is a riveting and moving experience that takes you behind the scenes of Formula One racing, the most elite sport in the world, and into the heart and mind of an outsider who challenged its conventions and became the world champion.

Senna, which won the World Cinema Documentary Audience Award at its premiere at the Sundance Film Festival this year, opens August 12 in Los Angeles and New York through Universal Pictures and ESPN Films.

Michael Rose is a writer, producer, director who turned his interest in automotive history into several nonfiction series.

Since its launch in January 2011, the Oprah Winfrey Network (OWN) has been chugging along under most TV viewers' radars. Amid harsh realities of getting a new cable network off the ground and transitioning Oprah's show audience to a whole slate of programming on a new channel, the network premiered the OWN Documentary Club in May. With three Emmy nominations for its inaugural film, Fenton Bailey and Randy Barbato's Becoming Chaz, which follows the sexual reassignment of Chastity Bono to Chaz, the Club is off to an impressive start.

An important player behind the Club's beginnings has been Annie Roney, a name synonymous with high quality, award-winning content in documentary circles, and her company ro*co productions. "I had followed the success of Oprah's Book Club, and I thought, ‘Wouldn't it be cool if Oprah had a Documentary Club?' because in my experience, people were hungry for the kind of experience they had from watching a film," says Roney. "You can't read a book together, but you can watch a film together and have a conversation."

When the first rumblings of an Oprah Winfrey network resounded about four or five years ago, Roney knew that it would be a perfect outlet for a doc club. She pitched the idea to executives at Winfrey's company, Harpo Productions, but it took a year or more for them to come around. Announced in January 2010 and officially launched in May 2011, the Club presents one film per month on OWN, a partnership between Harpo, Inc. and Discovery Communications.

With an eye toward completed independent works that are cinematic, Oscar-quality films, ro*co set up an online submission portal at rocofilms.com and began culling some 1,500 submissions for 11 Doc Club spots. "We do look at all of the submissions and decide whether we think the subject matter might be a fit for OWN, if the style might be right," Roney explains. "Then we screen those films and make recommendations to OWN executives. We work with their team, we present them with films, and ultimately it's their decision."

In clear, decisive moves to move the network forward, Winfrey recently took over as CEO and Chief Creative Officer. Her longtime producer Lisa Erspamer, who was serving as CCO, moved to Executive Vice President of Production & Development, and Doc Club host Rosie O'Donnell, a passionate fan of documentaries, hosts the monthly program and has input into the selection process. The Club's first season includes 13 films, with three original productions and 10 acquisitions.

 "One of the benchmarks we were given early on was, if you can imagine the subject matter having been an Oprah show, it might be a good fit," says Roney, when asked about the difference between OWN and HBO's documentary selections. "Her show over the years covered so much. I think if you look at our current line-up, it's quite varied. There are difficult subject matters tackled, as well as hopeful, inspiring, upbeat films that have been acquired, and lots of things in between." 

Lisa Erspamer is a 15-year veteran of Harpo Productions and was named co-executive producer in 2006. When she moved to OWN, Winfrey said, "Lisa has been a creative superstar. She's brought fire and force to many of the incredible shows we've done over the years. I value her passion and sensibilities and trust her instincts and judgment." When speaking with Erspamer, it's clear that even after all this time, she maintains enthusiasm for great stories. She describes the OWN documentary brand as "real life, well told."

 "I'm amazed by passionate filmmakers who care so much about making documentaries, using all their money and time because they want people to get the message," says Erspamer. "And our audience loves to hear compelling stories of what people are going through. People will lock in even if they don't have the same issues." Most of all, Erspamer doesn't want to waste your time as a viewer: "I want people to remember what they are seeing and to talk about it."

The OWN Documentary Club rolls out one film per month to present the films "the right way" and to give them the best opportunity for success. Both Roney and Erspamer gush about the great ratings for the docs that have shown so far, including Sons of Perdition, about young men excommunicated from a fundamentalist Mormon sect, and Serving Life, executive produced by Forest Whitaker and directed by Lisa R. Cohen, exploring a hospice program at Angola prison in Louisiana. The latter was the first original OWN production to air on the network; it premiered last month. 

Future original productions on the OWN docket include Tent City, from Steven Cantor and executive producers Gabriel Byrne and Leora Rosenberg, which explores homelessness in Nashville, Tennessee--specifically, a community of 100 individuals who live under a downtown bridge. The film follows four Tent City residents as they run as candidates for a seat on the Nashville Homeless Commission. Another project in the works for the Documentary Club comes from Barbara Kopple, who follows actress Mariel Hemingway, granddaughter of Ernest Hemingway, as she explores the legacy of tragedy and depression in one of America's foremost literary families.

The September Documentary Club selection is Matthew D. Kalis' Most Valuable Players, a fun romp that calls to mind the wildly successful Glee, following a unique live awards show for high school musical theater in Pennsylvania's Lehigh Valley. With high quality singing and dancing combined with high-stakes competition as students vie for awards accompanied by sponsored prizes, Most Valuable Players is an enjoyable film that explores the value of the arts in schools. It airs September 8.

Future docs on the OWN Documentary Club slate include Jennifer Siebel Newsom’s Miss Representation, airing October 20; Yoav Potash’s Crime After Crime, November 3; Lisa Leeman’s One Lucky Elephant, December 1; and Greg Jacobs and Jon Siskel’s Louder Than a Bomb, January 5.

"The hope is that Oprah can do for docs what she did for books," maintains Erspamer. "She's been involved, and going forward will be even more involved. We've got a great curation process and the films are really important."

Roney sums up the hope from the perspective of the doc community: "Every bit of our energy at ro*co is about getting these films seen. To be aligned with the Oprah brand is such a good sign for the entire documentary industry because she can bring in the mainstream audiences that documentaries haven't enjoyed. It lifts up the whole industry."

Agnes Varnum is the communications manager at the Austin Film Society in Austin, Texas.

Editor's Note: Some factual information was added and some material was deleted since this article was originally published.

While funding films is as difficult as it ever was, technology has lowered the hard costs of production to such a degree that there is now a literal deluge of movies inundating the gatekeepers who oversee festivals and distribution. A lot of these films are fantastic, but with such a flood of them, it's now even harder for all the good films being made to get the attention they deserve.

Last year, I wrote an article for this publication about our successful crowd-sourcing campaign to raise some finishing funds for Battle for Brooklyn. Now I'd like to share our story of doing whatever it takes to get our film seen. We faced some major hurdles in getting our film in front of audiences. We overcame these hurdles and believe that others can as well. When the gatekeepers keep telling you that your film doesn't fit into their festivals, sometimes you simply have to jump over the gate.

Battle for Brooklyn follows an unlikely activist as he struggles to save his home, and community, from being seized and bulldozed for a massive real estate development and arena project in the center of brownstone neighborhoods in Brooklyn. We started shooting a week after the project was announced and followed the story for over seven years, editing full-time for nearly two years. As such, we were invested in making sure that we got the film out in a big way.

We knew that premiering Battle at a top US festival would be the best way for us to get industry attention for the project. However, the cut just wasn't ready when entry deadlines began to crop up (which all seem to fall in the first few months of the year), so we had to deliver rough cuts. One major festival after another sent us rejection e-mails. As the festival season started to pass us by, we tried to come up with a new strategy: book the film in theaters ourselves. While we would have liked to have a distributor take it off of our hands, we didn't feel like we could wait for that option.

In a wonderful turn of events, we were invited to Hot Docs. Still, with all of the major US festivals already past, we realized that it might make the most sense to take the film directly to audiences. We saw Hot Docs as an opportunity to put Battle on the map and let people know that it was coming out. We had previously distributed our own films theatrically, as well as those of some friends, so we knew it was possible (if not ideal). While the Internet makes it possible to get films out in a wider way, it is still clear that the system of “legitimizing films” is strongly based around theatrical distribution. Without a theatrical launch, it’s very difficult to get papers to review--let alone write features--about a film. At this point, it seems anachronistic, but it’s still the media law of the land. Since the film didn't have a strong industry profile, we knew that a powerful theatrical launch in New York would be one way to get people to pay attention to it.

With our invite to Hot Docs in hand, we decided to reach out to the Brooklyn Film Festival to arrange the US premiere. We lobbied to have the film considered for opening night because we knew that having our Brooklyn film as a centerpiece would be a great way to get attention for the film and the festival. We have a long relationship with BFF; we've been judges for many years and have been overwhelemed by the recent programming. While we were working that out, Rooftop Films asked to screen the film only a few blocks from where we had shot it. With these two events lined up, we knew that we could get a big response from the New York press.

Our next hurdle was getting a theater to book the film. The managers at Cinema Village, with whom we had worked in the past, agreed to book it the week after its Brooklyn Film Festival premiere. At this point, press management became a big issue. In addition to the great publicists working for Brooklyn Film Festival and Rooftop Films, we needed to hire someone to help coordinate coverage. We wanted to get a lot of features timed around the festival--and make sure that the reviews came for the theatrical release. With Cinema Village booked for June 17, which was six weeks away, we hired publicist Julia Pacetti. It's important to work with a publicist who not only has contacts, but has the time, and a background with similar films.

Working under a time crunch, we were doing everything about 200 percent faster than normal, so the tension was very high. So high, in fact, that by the time we opened the film, my back and hip were locked up in spasms, making it difficult to even walk. We believed so strongly in Battle for Brooklyn, we were intent on getting it qualified for Academy Award consideration. The tight time frame made this very difficult due to all of the rules that have to be followed. The digital cinema package requirement was cost prohibitive in terms of renting projectors so we decided to make a single film print. (The DocuWeeks option was beyond our means financially. However, we had taken this route with a previous feature, Horns and Halos, and found it to be a very valuable way to go.). Technicolor in LA has a machine called the Cinevator that will generate a single print (no negative involved), and they were very easy to work with on a short turnaround. Our fiscal sponsor, MPI, leapt to action and found the $10,000 we needed to make the print. We were also able to get the Laemmle Music Hall to book the film, so we were on our way in terms of meeting the qualifying requirements.

With everything lined up for the US premiere and release, we went to Hot Docs and got an incredible response from the international audience. This confirmed our belief that we could do well in a theatrical setting outside of Brooklyn. We had two sold-out screenings and after the first weekend Battle was the fifth most popular film in the audience poll. In addition we got a slew of great reviews in Toronto. Indiewire called it one of the eight essential films to see at Hot Docs. We returned to New York energized and excited.

With our attention now turned to press for the New York premiere, we strategized about how we would get people into the theater. Every film has different groups that are primed to support it. Battle for Brooklyn deals with issues of politics and urban planning, and we reached out to professionals and students in those fields. The leaders of community groups who represented thousands of people who had fought so hard against the project also became our allies and were thrilled to spread the word about the opening.

We had two main goals. First, we needed huge crowds on opening weekend to prove to other exhibitors that there was a strong audience for the film, and second, we to wanted to get all the important New York newspaper reviews. In conjunction with Rooftop Films and the Brooklyn Film Festival, our publicist was able to get a deluge of features, reviews and television and radio appearances. Awareness of the film was very high going into opening weekend.

We had an amazing opening; over 1,000 people showed up, giving us a gross of over $11,000 for the weekend, which is pretty astounding for a self-distributed doc at a small theater in New York. We did Q&A at every screening--and my back got worse and worse. By the end of the weekend, I could barely walk. But Battle for Brooklyn wound up as the number 5 indie film in the country in terms of per-screen average.

The launch thrust the film into the public consciousness, and we have now been able to book several other cities. In addition, other festivals have begun to request the film, including Michael Moore's Traverse City Film Fest (one of the most filmmaker-friendly festivals out there!). Unfortunately, the stress really got to me, and my back gave out completely. After getting wheeled to the gate at the airport en route I got turned away because I couldn't sit up straight. My partner Suki, however, went ahead and was greeted by sold-out screenings and and a marathon Q&A. The next day, Mr. Moore called me. After jokingly chastising me for not making it to the festival, he told me, "A film like this only comes along every few years." He's one gatekeeper I'm very glad we didn't have to leap over.

When we make documentary films, we have to be open to where the story takes us. I believe the same is true with distribution. If we stay open to all of our options, we can always find ways of getting our films to their audience. If I had to do it again, I'd likely do it the same way. I'd just try to manage the stress a little better.

More dates are added each week at http://battleforbrooklyn.com .

Michael Galinsky is partners with Suki Hawley and David Beilinson in award-winning production studio Rumur. They are currently working on a film about the connection between stress and pain

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I was 14 years old on September 11, 2001, when my mother woke me up to tell me I needed to come downstairs, now. I grew up on the West Coast, so since school hadn't started yet that morning, my siblings and I padded downstairs in time to watch the second tower fall. We were groggy and trying to process what was happening in New York, a city that felt both a world away and much too close at the same time. When I moved East I met people who were much more directly affected: what began while I was asleep they experienced in real time and particularly for New Yorkers, that day is an event they cannot help but relive. Every year on September 11,  conversation tends to turn toward that day, but it's easy to forget that there are those who have never stopped thinking about it. 

Rebirth is a documentary that grants the audience intimate and often painful access to five individuals who experienced the tragedy of 9/11 firsthand: the young fiancée of a first responder; a high school student whose mother worked in one of the Towers; a firefighter who lost his best friend; a construction worker who processes his grief as he works to rebuild at Ground Zero; and a woman who survived the attack but was left with debilitating physical scars. There is inherent drama to the spectacular violence and trauma of 9/11, but this film reaches deeper by not only asking what the tragedy meant to them that day, but what it means to them now, as the filmmakers follow the five survivors for a decade after the attacks in an exploration of grief, love, pain, transformation and ultimately, hope.

I spoke with filmmaker Jim Whitaker, best known as executive producer of such feature films and television programs as 8 Mile, Robin Hood and Friday Night Lights, about the outreach for Rebirth, technical challenges in the making of the film, the Sundance premiere and more.

Documentary: You've had quite a bit of success in fiction film. Why did you choose to tell this story as a documentary?

Jim Whitaker: Well, a month after September 11, I went down to Ground Zero with my wife, and we were experiencing the reality of what happened there in terms of looking at the debris and the wreckage. In the middle of it, I had this feeling of hope when I was imagining what the site may look like in many years to come, and it made me think that someone should put cameras up and record the evolution of the site over time. So it became a documentary because it needed to be; I really felt like it was important to do what I call putting a mirror up to the site, and allowing the minute-by-minute recording of the site to happen over time. I never contemplated it at all in a fictional manner.

D: Were there any unique challenges for you in terms of working in documentary instead of fiction?

JW: My career started in documentaries. My first job out of college was working for a company called Hillman & Carr in Washington, DC, which made films for museums. So the origin of the film actually came out of that; I had a thought that there would be a museum there one day, and my original inspiration was to create an installation using just the time-lapse to allow an audience to be in a space where the buildings would be rising up around them.

D: This was a decade-long project; were there ever any moments where you were unsure if it would ultimately come together?

JW: I never had an internal feeling of self-doubt as to whether or not the film would ultimately get finished, and that was in part because when I started it, I felt like it was so important to do, but also, it had to be done. I will say that certainly along the way there were times where I thought, "If I don't figure out how to raise money at a certain point here, we may have to take the cameras down." But there was something inside me that just never really entertained that that would ever happen, in part because I started the film as a nonprofit organization (Project Rebirth), and I had an incredible board of directors and team working with me; I just had a trust and a faith that we would somehow figure it out.

D: By now, the images of September 11 are so iconic and so easily recognized. What was your process like for deciding how you wanted to personally convey those events?

JW: I felt that any images that I would show of the day itself would be familiar to people, but more importantly I felt that there was not an image that I could put in the mind of the viewers that could take the place of their own experience or that could be better than their own feeling of where they were on the day. So I chose to not show any images, for two reasons: I wanted the viewers to fall into the lives of the five stories I was telling from the perspective of watching them talk about going through it, and I wanted the viewers to transport themselves to that day in their own minds from wherever they were at that point in time. Everybody had their own images for the day and I just realized that the imagination is often much stronger. So by going to black and not showing them, but just hearing the audio from the radio, it felt to me like it allowed an audience to put themselves more there in their own experience.

And I also didn't want to put up chyrons identifying the individuals; throughout the film, you never know who the people are. I never wanted to feel like the viewers objectified the person they were watching; I wanted the viewers to fall into these stories of loss that were in many respects connected to their own experiences of loss. My hope is, while the film is about 9/11, it can in some respects have a more universal feeling of what people experience when they go through loss. It was always about capturing the essence and the truth of it as intimately as I could possibly do it.

D: Grief is so messy and complicated and you don't always know how to talk about it, but these characters open up so much. How did you find these five people in your film?

JW: I had an idea that I wanted to find ten types of people who would have been affected by the day: a police officer, a firefighter, someone who was on the impact floor, someone who had lost a parent-and I tried to divide it up that way. With the help of a very good field producer, Danielle Beverly, we began to explore, through family groups and The New York Times obituaries, various people whom we could potentially approach to be in the film. From there, however, it was a very unscientific approach; it was very organic. I knew I needed to find people who were very open emotionally and also very engaged in the notion that the project would be at least seven to ten years, so they had to be really committed to doing the film.

My mom had passed away six months before September 11, so I went into the day at Ground Zero with an openness to the idea of loss and grief. What eventually happened was I began a process of interviewing the subjects, and I was lockstep with them in a different type of loss. I was interviewing them over the years, and was interested in where they were in the grieving process. From the very beginning I told them "You know, I'm interested in hearing the kind of thoughts you have when you wake up in the morning and when you're taking a shower. I'm not interested in sound bites, I'm not looking for anything in particular, I'm just interested in having a conversation, and I just want to listen and talk with you." So the interviews were often anywhere from three to five hours at a time, and they were an exploration of their lives as it related to their loss.

D: How did they react to watching their own grieving processes on film?

JW: That part of the experience was very interesting. I told them I didn't want them to see any of the film until the end, so they never saw themselves through the 10 years as I interviewed them because I didn't want their reactions to themselves to change the way in which they moved through the process of being interviewed over the years. So when I finally showed them the film, the great thing about them seeing it was that each person turned to me and said, "I can't wait to meet the other four," which is really an amazing reaction.

D: What has the audience reaction been like?

JW: It's been really wonderful. We premiered it at Sundance and got two standing ovations. It was a really amazing experience for me because I hadn't shown it to a large audience, and here I was, at 8:30 in the morning on the first day of Sundance, with a packed audience, and no one left at the end; it was really quite emotional. It was like that through Sundance and it's been that way throughout. It's been pretty moving to have people respond to it and go through a series of emotions in the film. In going through the struggle with it, I'm hoping by the end of it you really do have a feeling of hope and are inspired by how these characters got through it, so I'm happy when people feel that way.

D: What was your biggest technical challenge with your film?

JW: The director of photography, Tom Lappin, figured out how to build these four-foot by six-foot boxes that are hanging off the building, with 35mm movie cameras hanging inside them and an intervelometer that tells the camera to shoot a frame of film as it's taking in the light, which is changing all the time during the day, so it's pretty complicated. It might not be as complicated if it was a week or a month, but the cameras have been up and running for almost 10 years now, so the technical problems we've tended to run into have been like what you'd run into with a car. It's just a long time to have any mechanism continuing for a long period of time. In the beginning, the technical challenge was, "Can we do this? Can we actually sustain and keep the time-lapse running and can it be good? Can it capture what we're trying to capture but also have a sense of evoking a feeling from the site?" We were able to do some preliminary tests, jump right into it and figure it out pretty quickly. 

D: What are your ultimate social goals for the film?

JW: Well, what I discovered in the process of showing the film in short bits, allowing people to see it as I raised money, is that people were having a kind of cathartic experience, so I started to realize that the film could potentially help people. About three to four years into the process I met with the president of Georgetown University, my alma mater, and he invited me to show a portion of the film to a group of academics, who all pointed out something that I just didn't know: there hadn't been a record of grief over this period of time that had existed on film. So what I and the chairman of the organization, Brian Rafferty, started to realize was that there was a real opportunity to use the film to allow people to see others going through grief. So we have an educational initiative that's going in different directions to accomplish the same thing: teach people about grief, and prepare people, especially first responders in the event of a natural or humankind disaster, that the aftermath is a very long one and that while recovery is a long process, it can also be a very hopeful one.

We have a program starting in the fall with the cadets at the NYPD. They'll be required to go through a course based on Project Rebirth and based on the film. We're also doing a project with the Arlington Fire Department in Arlington, Virginia, which has one of the best programs for PTSD teaching for firefighters. In the New York/New Jersey area we're beginning an educational initiative that we expect to expand, teaching psychologists using the film how to teach students about grief, and in addition to that, we're just beginning educational projects for high schools and colleges.

So it's a multi-pronged approach to getting underneath and allowing people to understand the messiness and challenges of grief-but also that there's hope at the end of the road, because it can be very dark for people, especially in the early years. While the grief may never quite leave you, it doesn't mean you can't, as Tanya says in the movie, have joy in your life.

D: Do you have any advice for beginning documentary filmmakers?

JW: It can be very hard to make a film, and it requires a lot of energy and focus, so I'd like to encourage people to just listen to themselves, kind of what the Jesuits call "discernment" of what's going on within them and the feelings in their lives about something. If they're feeling something really strongly, go after it, and by any means figure out the way to get the film to happen. This film took me ten years, and the way for it to happen is to have it feel incredibly personal.

Rebirth premieres August 26 in Los Angeles and August 31 in New York City through Oscilloscope Laboratories. The film airs September 11 on Showtime.

Katie Bieze is a graduate student in the Film and Video program at American University and works as a graduate fellow at American University's Center for Social Media. She graduated from Duke University in 2009 with a BA in literature and certificates in documentary studies and film/video/digital.

Over the next month, we at IDA will be introducing our community to the filmmakers whose work is represented in the DocuWeeks^TM Theatrical Documentary Showcase, which runs from August 12 through September 1 in New York City and August 19 through September 8 in Los Angeles. We asked the filmmakers to share the stories behind their films--the inspirations, the challenges and obstacles, the goals and objectives, the reactions to their films so far.

So, to continue this series of conversations, here are Alysa Nahmias and Benjamin Murray, directors/ producers of Unfinished Spaces.

Synopsis: In 1961, three young, visionary architects were commissioned by Fidel Castro and Che Guevara to create Cuba's National Art Schools on the grounds of a former Havana golf course. Construction of their radical designs began immediately, and artists from all over the country reveled in the beauty of the schools. But as the dream of the Revolution quickly became a reality, construction was halted and the architects and their designs were deemed irrelevant in the prevailing political climate. Forty years later, the schools are in use, but decaying. Castro has invited the exiled architects back to finish their unrealized dream.

IDA: How did you get started in documentary filmmaking?

Alysa Nahmias & Benjamin Murray: We met in an art theory course at New York University, where Ben majored in film production at the Tisch School of the Arts and Alysa studied art history and architecture at the Gallatin School of Individualized Study. Documentary was always an interest for both of us, but we became documentarians only when we discovered the story of Unfinished Spaces, which happened to be unfolding before our eyes; we couldn't have invented something more emotional or surreal if we tried. After Alysa took her first trip to Cuba in 2001, we began making Unfinished Spaces together because of a shared love for the characters in the story. We are drawn to documentaries because, as Lawrence Weschler says, "Nothing is too wonderful to be true."

For the past ten years as we've produced Unfinished Spaces, Ben's worked as an online editor, and Alysa has completed a graduate degree in architecture. As much as we love nonfiction filmmaking, and we each want to make more documentaries, we also consider ourselves artists and storytellers who aren't limited by genre.

IDA: What inspired you to make Unfinished Spaces?

AN & BM: In Spring 2001 in Havana, we first had the opportunity to visit the National Art Schools--organic, modern, brick buildings, now in ruins, but still home to Cuba's best and brightest art students.

After touring the campus, we met architect Roberto Gottardi. Roberto brought with him an old file full of photographs and press clippings, weathered documents that illustrated the story of his most monumental architectural project, the first and most impressive construction of the Cuban Revolution.

Roberto struck us as a modern-day Don Quixote, whose creative visions were ahead of his time and larger than the world around him. The architect and his buildings paralleled the Cuban Revolution itself--from utopian vision to tragic ruin, and ultimately to an uncertain future.

We couldn't pass up the opportunity to follow Roberto and his fellow architects of the National Art Schools, Ricardo Porro and Vittorio Garatti, on the final leg of their emotional journey.

IDA: What were some of the challenges and obstacles in making this film, and how did you overcome them?

AN & BM: Our biggest challenge was maintaining a production quality in the film that would match the beauty of the Cuban environment and architecture that was our subject. Everything in Cuba is glowing and crumbling at the same time, so the camera had to capture sublime imagery without romanticizing it or falling into the traps of cliché.

Access was another challenge that, happily, we overcame. We had to patiently prove our intentions to gatekeepers on the island in order to obtain access to places and people that were generally off limits to filmmakers, especially a pair of North Americans. The Cuban National Art Schools, although once neglected by the Cuban government, have recently become a highly protected site. No foreign filmmakers or journalists had ever been given official permission to shoot there prior to Unfinished Spaces.

IDA: How did your vision for the film change over the course of the pre-production, production and post-production processes?

AN & BM: When you work on a project for ten years, there are countless changes. Our characters, the political context, the filmmaking technologies and our own lives all transformed from 2001 to 2011. Actually, we find it most remarkable how our initial creative spark remained bright enough to guide us through so many twists and turns. We set out to make a film that portrayed three artist-architects who are extraordinary human beings with complex emotions, and that would offer a fresh perspective on Cuba and on the ways architecture can engage with society. We think that's the film we've made, and it's been worth the wait.

IDA: As you've screened Unfinished Spaces--whether on the festival circuit, or in screening rooms, or in living rooms--how have audiences reacted to the film? What has been most surprising or unexpected about their reactions?

AN & BM: Audiences at film festivals and private screenings have been moved in very powerful, specific ways. People who love architecture have responded overwhelmingly. Architects leave the theatre praising the fact that the architecture is portrayed as a character rather than a static object. They appreciate how the creative process of architecture is made accessible for non-architects through the course of telling this character-driven story.

One of the highest complements we've received so far came from our subject Ricardo Porro's wife, Elena Porro, who had maintained a healthy skepticism about two young North American filmmakers attempting to narrate a story of the Cuban revolution. She told us after the premiere at the Los Angeles Film Festival that she was very emotional while watching, because it struck her as one of the most accurate depictions she'd encountered of how it felt for her to live in Cuba during the '60s.

People who didn't have any particular interest in architecture or Cuba have also been connecting emotionally to the story and wanting to know more about modern architecture and the history of Cuba. That is really gratifying for us as filmmakers, because we love that a story can transcend generations and politics to connect and inspire everyone.

IDA: What docs or docmakers have served as inspirations for you?

AN & BM: On opposite sides of the spectrum, the films Blue Water, White Death, by Peter Gimbel and James Lipscomb, and The Kiss, by Iñigo Manglano-Ovalle, were inspiring for their stunning visuals and for their themes of outrageous dreams and practical realities.

And then there's a film like My Architect, by Nathaniel Kahn, which we admire because it told a very human story about an architectural subject.

Unfinished Spaces will be screening August 12 through 18 at the IFC Center in New York City, and August 19 through 25 at the Laemmle Sunset 5 in Los Angeles.

For the complete DocuWeeks^TM 2011 program, click here.

To purchase tickets for Unfinished Spaces in New York, click here.

To purchase tickets for Unfinished Spaces in Los Angeles, click here.

Editor's Note: Miss Representation airs October 20 on OWN. The following interview with director/producer/writer Jennifer Siebel Newsom was published during the film's run at IDA's DocuWeeks^TM Theatrical Documentary Showcase.

Over the next month, we at IDA will be introducing our community to the filmmakers whose work is represented in the DocuWeeks^TM Theatrical Documentary Showcase, which runs from August 12 through September 1 in New York City and August 19 through September 8 in Los Angeles. We asked the filmmakers to share the stories behind their films--the inspirations, the challenges and obstacles, the goals and objectives, the reactions to their films so far.

So, to continue this series of conversations, here is Jennifer Siebel Newsom, director/ producer/writer of Miss Representation.

Synopsis: Like drawing back a curtain to let bright light stream in, Miss Representation uncovers a glaring reality we live with every day, but fail to see. It's clear the mainstream media objectifies women, but what most people don't realize is the magnitude of that phenomenon and the way objectification gets internalized-a symbolic annihilation of self-worth-and impedes girls and women from realizing their full potential. In a society where media is the most persuasive force shaping cultural norms, the collective message that a woman's value and power lie only in her youth, beauty and sexuality is pervasive.                     - Caroline Libresco/Sundance Film Festival

IDA:  How did you get started in documentary filmmaking?

Jennifer Siebel Newsom: I have always loved films with social meaning and significance. In particular, I wanted to shed light on an issue that I felt was damaging our youth and our culture and that was being ignored or treated as the norm in our society.  After consulting with various documentary filmmakers, they all suggested, based on my passion for the subject matter, that I make the film myself.  That's how I got started. Now I would like to make more films.

IDA: What inspired you to make Miss Representation?

JSN: I was inspired to make Miss Representation for several reasons. First, I witnessed an injustice towards women in the media that has worsened over time with the 24-7 news cycle and the advent of infotainment and reality television. Today's media is sending a very dangerous message to young people in particular that women's value lies in their youth, beauty and sexuality, and not in their capacity as leaders. 

Second, I realized that despite the assumption in America that men and women are equal (well, Hilary Clinton ran for president after all...), women's leadership seems to peak at 17 percent representation--only 17 percent of Congress are women, 3 percent of media clout (or decision-making) positions are women, and 3 percent of Fortune 500 CEOs are women.  These numbers are abysmal. Women still make around 75 cents on the man's dollar, and there are so few corporations in America that actually provide flex time or paid family leave so that women can continue on their career paths while raising young families. 

Finally, and closest to home, I was compelled to make this documentary because I was horrified by the thought of raising a daughter in a culture that demeans, degrades and disrespects women on a regular basis. Miss Representation is my attempt to right this wrong and put our culture on a path that recognizes and empowers women and girls.  Women can no longer be portrayed as second-class citizens, but rather as equals to men, with equal opportunities to succeed in life.

Thanks to a lot of hustle, persistence and women supporting women, we got family and friends and friends of friends to tell each other about the project and convince our interviewees that we weren't going to play gotcha. We just wanted to hear their stories and make this really important film for the world, and that they needed to be a part of it. That's how it happened.

IDA: What were some of the challenges and obstacles in making this film, and how did you overcome them?

JSN: Let's just say I asked a lot of questions, learned to trust my gut, and surrounded myself with people who were not only talented, but very supportive. I have to admit, though, I had no idea that making a documentary film could really take over two years. I am a rather impatient person and am proud I stuck it out, as I had to overcome many obstacles and hurdles in the making of the film. Fundraising was by no means easy initially; I was picked apart as director/narrator; I felt very alone throughout much of the process--until I found my editor, Jessica Congdon, who is a total collaborator, so smart and such a star. Moreover, I had to deal with ugly energy every day in our research, and it was at times too much for me, as a sensitive person. It got to the point, where I'd walk into the room and my husband had the TV on and I had to walk out as he was watching the news and it would cut to a reality show or a commercial and I couldn't help but cringe at the messages being communicated about what it is to be a woman or a man in our culture. It really saddened me. Not only that, but you know how when advertisements come on TV and the volume rises? I would be incensed. 

In addition to the challenges of the filmmaking process, my editor Jess and I both had daughters about the same time soon after she started working with me. Being that this was my first child and I didn't take maternity leave, I was exhausted and overwhelmed. However, with such an amazing team of women behind Miss Representation, our triumphs far outnumbered the obstacles, and I believe I learned from all of the challenges.

IDA: How did your vision for the film change over the course of the pre-production, production and post-production processes?

JSN: Miss Representation started as a conversation between various friends and myself around the injustices towards women in the media and therefore in our culture. And ultimately, it grew into a cause-oriented film and movement, where we are fortunate enough to have partnerships with the likes of Common Sense Media, the Geena Davis Institute on Gender in Media, Step Up Women's Network, Girls Inc., Girls for a Change, The White House Project, Women's Media Center and the International Museum of Women. 

One of the most inspiring things I learned while making this film is that people do care and they do want to see change. Thanks to all of our partner organizations and academics and their incredible advocacy, activism and research, we now have the tools to question the media that perpetrates violence and degradation towards women. This gives me tremendous hope and confidence that we will have an impact.

All of the women and men we interviewed struck a chord with me. And the youth were particularly moving. If I had to pick just one interviewee, though, who really impressed me, perhaps it would be Rachel Maddow, who deals with sexism on a regular basis with humor and grace. We can all learn something from that.

IDA: As you've screened Miss Representation--whether on the festival circuit, or in screening rooms, or in living rooms--how have audiences reacted to the film? What has been most surprising or unexpected about their reactions?

JSN: I've been overwhelmed by the reaction thus far. When we premiered at Sundance, the film was immediately picked up by the Oprah Winfrey Network (and will be aired nationally October 20), but more importantly, I had people coming up to me saying how powerful it was, how they were surprised, shaken and moved to do something after seeing it. Our Facebook and Twitter pages are constantly flooded with positive reactions --and not just from women, either. We have men and boys telling us how shocked they were, or how much they learned from watching the film and how they want to be better men because of it. And that really was the point of making Miss Representation in the first place--to educate, inspire, motivate and entertain. I've always wanted audience members to feel compelled to talk about the subject matter, tell others to go see it, and share information from the documentary with their loved ones and colleagues--the goal being to make them feel empowered that they can do something about media injustices and they can affect change. It's critical that viewers think more critically about the subtleties of sexism that we've come to accept in our culture. Ultimately, I want our audience to leave motivated to join our social action campaign to affect change for women and girls.

And, while I think we've been able to accomplish some of this already, it's only the beginning, and I can't tell you how excited I am to see where things go from here.

IDA:  What docs or docmakers have served as inspirations for you?

JSN: Michael Moore has continued to influence and inspire me with his commitment to making films that seek to address major problems in our society. I have also been inspired and influenced by the films of my professor at Stanford Business School, Bill Guttentag. My favorite doc of years past was The Cove; I loved the suspense of it. And finally, my friend Darryl Roberts directed America the Beautiful, and I was very inspired by his passion for the subject matter and getting the film out.    

Miss Representation will be screening August 12 through 18 at the IFC Center in New York City, and August 26 through September 1 at the Laemmle Sunset 5 in Los Angeles

For the complete DocuWeeks^TM 2011 program, click here.

To purchase tickets for Miss Representation in New York, click here.

To purchase tickets for Miss Representation in Los Angeles, click here.