Kasey Elise Walker (center) at the Sundance Directors Lab This month Filmmaker is publishing diaries from writers and directors who attended the 2023 Sundance Directors Lab. First up is Kasey Elise Walker, who traveled to the Lab with The Dispute, co-written with Andrea Ellsworth. Here’s the description: “Down on their luck and desperate for more, two best friends from South Central take a chance encounter as an invitation to trade their dead-end lives in Los Angeles for something new. When chaos ensues during their seemingly lucrative adventure, they realize the true cost of their actions..” A complete list of Sundance Labs participants can be found here. — Editor
I’m freaking out. Kasi Lemmons and Ed Harris are watching our blocking rehearsal, and I’m not quite sure if I know exactly what I’m doing. I’ve spent the last five years writing this script and thought I knew what this scene was about. I take a deep breath, turn to Karren Karagulian—who has come all this way to perform and help workshop our scene—and wonder: How on earth did I make it here?
I’m not only on track to direct a feature film with my best friend, Andrea Ellsworth, but also starring in it. This is terrifying, but also the most present I’ve been in my life. What started as a distant dream, an almost impossible idea, is becoming real. And we’re doing it with the support of the Sundance Institute, a place I’ve always admired but never imagined being a part of.
Focus. Focus. Breathe.
I can’t tell if this scene is working because I’m in it. I’m trying to make my advisors proud, apply what I learned in Joan Darling’s acting workshop and utilize the tools Gyula Gazdag taught us in “Using the Camera to Tell a Story,” but I also need to show up as co-director, co-writer and co-star for my partner. I’m having trouble figuring out what I should prioritize first.
Five weeks ago, this exact balancing act was what we told Michelle Satter and Ilyse McKimmie we wanted to work on in the lab. Now here we are, putting it into practice, and it’s not easy. I’ve directed before, I’ve acted and written, but I’ve never had all three collide in a joint effort with someone else. It’s not just about how I think things should go. I need to communicate first with my co-director—who, wait, is also the actress in the scene. It’s OK to fail, everyone here keeps reminding us. This is the place to fail. This is the place to try things you wouldn’t normally try or are too afraid to.
OK. Let’s do that then.
At lunch, I’m sitting with Andrea and Gemma Doll-Grossman, our DP, discussing how we see this scene unfolding. We start where Gyula always urges us to: What is the event of the scene? What is the story you’re telling? Well, we might not know exactly how the scene is going to unfold, but we know what this character should feel. In the context of our full script, this is the moment she feels seen. How do we convey that with the camera?
I look to Gemma and Andrea. We agree that the camera and blocking need to immerse us in the character’s world. She’s in a whirlwind. Gemma says, “That feels circular.” Yes! It does. I draw a circle on the script, and Gemma adds, “You know, they have a circle track upstairs.”
No way. We should use that.
Andrea chimes in: she sees fabric moving past the camera. Whoa, that’s a great idea. And in this same scene, the character reaches a high—then quickly gets pulled out of it. How do we convey that with the camera? How do we burst her bubble?
Maybe it’s a whip? That feels fun and aligned with the pace and energy Andrea and I envisioned during “The World of Your Film” assignment earlier in the lab.
In this moment, it hits me how all the workshops, all the conversations, are finally converging. We dive into shot listing, sketch out blocking and suddenly everything becomes clear.
I felt blinded this morning, but now I can see—not just as a director, but as the character I’m playing. We figured it out. Together. Now, it’s in my body.
The next day is shoot day. Gemma is riding the circle track through flowing fabric. I glance over at Kasi Lemmons. Her smile lights up the set, alongside the glowing overhead paper globes Kishan Patel, our gaffer, hung to illuminate the space.
Everything’s moving beautifully when Kasi notices that in every take, we’re covering the scene the exact same way. She encourages us to vary our starting point on the circle track and go wider on the lens so we get a stronger sense of spatial context. She also asks how the other character in the scene sees this moment. Can we get the other character’s POV? That’s a great note.
Before moving to the next setup, we adjust. This process continues throughout our entire shoot not just with Kasi, but with Amy Vincent, Ed Harris, Catherine Hardwicke and Karyn Kusama. They watch closely, ask questions and push us to dig deeper into the story we’re telling. In doing that, they help reveal nuances we didn’t even know were there.
The next day, we’re editing with Arielle Zakowski, who is brilliant. She gets our script, our humor, our rhythm. Her instincts align with ours, and we work together, amplifying, shaping and uncovering moments we didn’t even know existed in the footage.
Every so often, an advisor steps in with a note: “Clarify this” or “Build that moment.” Sometimes I think, “We don’t have the footage for that,” but somehow Arielle finds it. She works magic in the room.
At 7 pm, we leave the edit bay. I feel proud, I feel confident and I’m in love with our scene—not just because it turned out great, but because of the collaboration with Andrea. We held our shared vision and made something we’re both genuinely proud of.
At our advisor screening the next day, all I can remember is Kasi Lemmons starting to speak, then pausing, taking off her glasses, taking a breath and saying “I’m just so proud of you guys.”
We came into this lab unsure of how our collaboration would work—now we know it does. All the anxiety and fear dissipated, and I’m reminded why Andrea and I set out on this journey in the first place.
I can see how special our shared vision is, how our chemistry translates on screen, not just as performers but as co-writers and co-directors. Somehow, the words we’ve been fine-tuning for years are now alive on the screen and it’s undeniable. It’s actually even better than we could have imagined, and it’s all thanks to this magical place. A place that can only really be felt. A place dreamed up by Robert Redford. Kept alive by Michelle Satter. A dream come true for independent filmmakers.
Now: on to our second scene, with a whole new group of advisors and the realization that we have to completely rewrite it in our blocking rehearsal based on what we learned shooting our first scene.
Can we do it again?
Never mind the doubt. Never mind all the outside pressures and fears.
Let’s just start with the question: What is the event of the scene? What is the story we are telling?
And let’s remember: if we’re going to fail, this is the place we’re allowed to do it.