I’m sure I wouldn’t have gotten involved in film if I had stayed here, but I studied German literature abroad, met a few filmmakers, and I actually got to see many African films there in Berlin. That got me really interested. I had always been interested in drama, you know, right from primary school. We used to organize ourselves and do skits every end of term on Parent’s Day. All that came back at university. I was in the drama club, small roles, because I wanted direct. I had some film school friends. I was actually teaching some of them Swahili. I told them, I think I’d like to go into film. They said, okay! There¹s a good film school in Berlin and you can apply.

It seems like a strange place to be watching African films. What is it in particular about these African films that really excited you and inspired you to want to become a filmmaker?
Every February there is the big, big festival called the Biennale in Berlin that usually does one or two African films. And the House of the World Cultures in Berlin would run a program of all the winning films at Ouagadougou. I would be asked to be part of commenting and helping around, so I got to meet filmmakers when they were there, and I remember some things which really impressed me. Souleymane Cisséé’s Yeelen just opened my eyes, and there were others by Djibril Diop Mambety whose cinematic art is so great. Here I was in a foreign city looking for my identity actually ‹ because, you know, you don’t belong to that culture and you’re a bit isolated ‹ until I had something I could really identify with: Africans telling African stories.

Is there any experience during those very early formative years that comes to mind in terms of trying to become a filmmaker?
I went to film school. It’s a practical school. So, we were always writing scripts, producing or editing a film. You’re making films all the time with your colleagues. You sort yourself out by who you want to work with. You know, like proper camera people from Poland or America, scriptwriters from America, who would help us in writing. My first professional film, I remember, I was in second-year film school and got a job from ZDF German television. I was very frightened. They had all been on the job for ten years; you know. But I was very lucky because the lady at ZDF sorted me out, she said, ‘We will give you a producer who will not interfere with your work, just because you are new. Then we’ll try to push your work.’ That was a very good beginning because after two days I was very confident. I forgot I was the newcomer.

What advice would you give to people who are working with filmmakers who are just starting off?
I would say that the greatest thing that can happen to a new filmmaker is to actually have a week of preparation with the cameraman, the producer, and all the members of the team. Get to know them and for them to get to know you. Do not underestimate anyone. Film is teamwork, and none of you can function if the other one is not functioning — right down to the driver. If the driver doesn¹t show up, you can’t shoot. If the architect doesn’t come to build that house, you can’t shoot. If the catering doesn’t come, you can’t shoot. So, you have to think of filmmaking as teamwork and that nobody is more important than the other. You have to respect each other.

You’ve gone ahead and made quite a few films. The Battle of the Sacred Tree is airing on TV Africa which is quite exciting for us Kenyans, because that¹s a very rare thing. What influences your ideas for filmmaking?
Actually my inspiration is stories which happen around me. Talking to a friend, seeing something in the street — I worry a lot about justice and equal rights and poverty, so these themes trigger a film idea in my head. The Battle is an example. I had read a story in high school that stayed with me. When I went to film school, I said, “Now I can make this film.” The next problem was how to finance it. I was lucky to be in film school, where equipment was free.

Talk about that story that you read in high school that you finally did when you were in film school. This is interesting because we know people who believe that you think of an idea today and tomorrow you¹ve got a film. Tell us what is the reality on the ground.
The time in-between the story and the filmmaking was more than ten years. I just got interested in the story, and it stayed with me. It’s like a story that maybe your grandmother tells you and it sticks. The story is by Barbara Kimenya who lives in Kenya and originally came from Uganda. The story was actually based in Uganda but the sacred tree is anywhere, you know, like Africans have something sacred somewhere in rocks, hills, or mountains, yeah? I think that is why the story triggered a reaction which has to do with history. We have parallel things: We want to be modern; we remember many things from long ago which we don’t even know where they came from. And these things are both in us. The story is about a collision of beliefs. So, I saw it was a great chance to combine religion, culture, and contemporary Kenya.

Have you been influenced at all by Western filmmaking?
Oh, yes, certainly! They taught me filmmaking. I lived in Europe for a long time. I saw more Western films of course than African films. And the thing is, Europe has a lot of cinema art. Europeans have a tradition of producing independent films that have nothing to do with the commercial aspect. Sometimes they are a great success. So, I found that, in the film schools especially, a trend was to take the people you never talked about in mainstream film seriously. People who live ordinary lives — a common teenager, someone who is jobless, someone oppressed, the woman in the street. A lot of my orientation is through that tradition. To add to the influence of Western filmmakers I should say that I am very much influenced by comedy of any kind. [laughter] I love comedy. I used to watch all the comedy, especially French, like Truffaut ... I like Woody Allen quite a lot, Fellini, David Lynch, who you have to digest really, or someone more serious, like Passolini.

How do you approach character development?
To make him come alive, I ask myself the question, “Who is this person?’ When it comes to directing, professional actors will ask you, “Why am I supposed to do that?’ and you have to be prepared to explain their character is a real person. I directed some children’s films for German television. The children would corner me: “Wanjiru, why am I supposed to be like this, with a long face?’ and I had to explain it to them. “You know, the character you’re playing is always complaining and usually she complains because other people don’t treat her right.’ Then she did it, she did it very well. Children ask questions and professionals also ask questions in order to be in a position to say to the director, “Uh uh! That one I can’t do.’ Or “That one, that doesn’t fit.’ You may have written a script ,and there are many different things which don’t fit with the character. They also have to be like real people. Think, what would you do in this situation? Or what would your neighbor do if you did this to them? And then they take a real perspective, they become real.

What you’re telling me is that the performance of any actor must come out of a very well coordinated collaboration between the director and the actor.
An actor has to read the script, not just his or her parts. Then you have to discuss it, so that you can clear any character problems that you have. And then the actor should ask questions: What is this? Can I say it this way? The script doesn’t stick until you edit. It has to be clear to the actors that you’re not just bossing them around, you’re trying to get this out of them. They don’t know yet what is going to be on screen, you’re the one who knows. You’re the one who visualizes the film. So, the collaboration is very important. It’s also work.

How do you see yourself trying to educate Africans on certain socio-cultural issues — where we want to go in terms of how women are treated, for example?
Actually, the filmmaker’s role is not necessarily that of a teacher. It is reflecting what is inside, exposing it so that people can discuss it. You know people can say, “Oh! I am like that!’ Or “I am behaving like that towards my wife, but that’s ridiculous.’ Some of the situations between husbands and wives in The Battle are quite ridiculous. But I’m not pointing a finger and saying, “You man, you’re wrong. You woman, you’re wrong.’ If you see yourself reacting in that way, you don’t have time to reflect. As an artist you can take all that is there and try to project it. It doesn’t have to be the real thing, but it has to be the possible thing. It¹s a rhetorical question: Should I ...? I’ve had actors who’ve said, “Uh uh! I can’t act this scene. It’s too good.’ Or “It¹s too negative.’ I remind them; “Well, you¹re an actor. If you can’t do it , that’s too bad. I’ll get someone else who will do it, because it is in the script and people actually do behave like that. It’s not your personal thing.’ I don’t want to be a didactic type of filmmaker who is pointing fingers at people. I’d rather amuse them with their own behavior you know! I’d mak’ a comedy about the things that fathers do to their daughters or the way they talk to their sons Oh, you¹re a man now. You don’t go into the kitchen.’

You’re really looking to inspire people to look at themselves in a very different way through your films. What advice can you give in terms of looking into our own myths so that an international community can also appreciate them?
We should try to make films about things that deeply affect us. Our cultural heritage is very, very rich, but I think, part of our problem has been to think of a film as being made for an international audience. We know its funded by an international whoever, but that’s not really the point. You make it, because you want to make a film. I think we have to learn to accept ourselves. We actually identify with the West a lot, while forgetting that if one can’t identify with oneself and forefathers, you’re nobody, even in those European eyes. The only thing to say is, I am who I am. These are my stories. This is my history. This is my present, this is my past, and I’d like to be in charge of my future. Then you won’t get comments like those I usually got when I applied for film funding: Uh uh! This is not Africa. Their perception of Africa is so different from mine, because I was born here. Okay, it might not be the Africa that they expect, but they have to accept my version, because I was actually born there ‹ whether I am westernized or not, whether Nairobi is westernized or not. Nairobi it is not Berlin. Learn to accept your own point of view in any situation. The first person you’re doing it for is yourself. If you have something to say, say it in the best way possible. Don’t try to imitate a film because someone told you, it won’t be understood in the West. Why should we accept that?

Tell it your own way but the storytelling technique has to be appealing Š
We have no shortage of that. I mean, we have always told stories. I can tell a story so you don’t even want to get out of the bus, because you want to listen to the end. That is storytelling. Okay. The film language you have to learn, you know, to write a script. Those are formalities. But telling a story is drama. I’ve watched Japanese films made by people who never left Japan and Chinese films by people who never left China. I can understand them because they can tell a story. And that’s it. Nothing to worry about.

What do you think about directors personalizing their film language or style?
That is called finding your voice. Everyone thinks differently. When you find your own voice, somebody sees a film and says, ŒThat must be from Dommie. It can¹t be from anybody else.’ They’d be very shocked, if it wasn’t from Dommie. They’d say, ŒWhere did they influence each other?’ Or whatever. I think of a personal style, but I can’t tell you precisely what it is. I have a personal approach, but how does one approach a film? How do you approach the idea? How do you realize it? One’s personal style comes through the way your camera moves, the kinds of locations you choose, the kind of actors you choose. I tend to take a satirical, comic sort of approach. If I have a very serious idea, I have to cast comedians to counter the seriousness. These people add something that I like in there.

People are moving toward using English in the medium. There are inclusions of ethnic languages like Sheng [Nairobi slang, English and Kiswahili]. How does this trend relate to your filmmaking?
The Battle has a bit of Kikuyu and a little bit of Kiswahili. The script was written in English, and one speaks English most of the time in the city. You speak Sheng depending on whom you’re talking to. I think the language of the characters in the script is the one you should use. I mean, in the city, I speak to my mom in Kikuyu. In villages, its usually the only language that¹s spoken. I was reading a script the other day that was written in English by a Kikuyu, and I thought, this can only be done in Kikuyu. You know, you switch a language because that is how you can express yourself best in a situation. Well, we Africans are lucky we have many. We keep switching. If you’re dealing with young people in Nairobi you have to use Sheng. If you choose English, it’s not real. If you choose proper Kiswahili, like they speak in Tanzania, it won’t work because this is Nairobi. You have to identify language with the people involved and the place involved, so the story comes out best. The emotions come out.

Don’t subtitles pose a problem, especially when it comes to distributing African films? In Kenya, for example, we have have forty-two languages.
You know Europe doesn’t speak just one language? It’s just like Kenya, like Africa. One has to translate the films to be understood in every state. A film from Poland is in Polish. When they’re making the film, they’re not thinking Œhow am I going to distribute it in America?’ They’re thinking, ŒLet’s first make the film, then get money to dub it so that we can export it.’ The problem is like publishing books. There are many people who write books in English, although their English is not good enough. The best thing to do is first write it in the language you know best. Do the film in the language it¹s supposed to be in, then worry about the cost of subtitling and dubbing. I wouldn’t regard language as a stumbling block in filmmaking. I would worry more about authenticity. People want to see authenticity, not somebody trying to speak English. That is like walking with a crutch....

ABOUT THE DIRECTOR
Wanjiru Kinyanjui was born in Kenya in 1958. She was a writer, poet, and radio journalist before becoming a filmmaker. After receiving a Masters in English and German Literature, she enrolled in the Ferman Film & Television School in Berlin. Since then, she has directed numerous fiction and documentary films for European and Kenyan television.

ABOUT THE INTERVIEWER
Dommie Yambo-Odotte is the Founder, Executive Director, and Producer of Development Through Media in Nairobi, Kenya, a non-profit media company whose focus is the effective utilization of audio-visual media as a development tool, as well as in the marketing of African media products to African audiences and to the world at large. She has been a freelance film and video producer, whose credits include numerous advocacy pieces, documentaries for television, and most recently the M-Net New Directions film The Aftermath.