My student has become my teacher. Darius Clark Monroe, the young filmmaker I first met when he was enrolled in my class at University of Houston, and who went on to study with Spike Lee at NYU, demonstrated great promise with his acclaimed autobiographical documentary Evolution of a Criminal. Now he has taken the first step toward fulfilling that promise with this deeply affecting 13-minute portrait of Dr. Mtangulizi Sanyika, a remarkable Houstonian who also happens to be a proud New Orleanian. Titled Two Cities, it's part of a six-part Time Inc. documentary series -- New Orleans, Here & Now -- that celebrates different facets of my hometown 10 years after the devastation of Hurricane Katrina. After seeing Monroe's contribution, I'm eager to view the entire omnibus -- and, yes, maybe take another look at another amazing film directed by one of Monroe's other proud teachers.
Showing posts with label Darius Clark Monroe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Darius Clark Monroe. Show all posts
Friday, August 28, 2015
A deeply affecting film about a remarkable Houstonian who's also a proud New Orleanian
My student has become my teacher. Darius Clark Monroe, the young filmmaker I first met when he was enrolled in my class at University of Houston, and who went on to study with Spike Lee at NYU, demonstrated great promise with his acclaimed autobiographical documentary Evolution of a Criminal. Now he has taken the first step toward fulfilling that promise with this deeply affecting 13-minute portrait of Dr. Mtangulizi Sanyika, a remarkable Houstonian who also happens to be a proud New Orleanian. Titled Two Cities, it's part of a six-part Time Inc. documentary series -- New Orleans, Here & Now -- that celebrates different facets of my hometown 10 years after the devastation of Hurricane Katrina. After seeing Monroe's contribution, I'm eager to view the entire omnibus -- and, yes, maybe take another look at another amazing film directed by one of Monroe's other proud teachers.
Thursday, October 30, 2014
Filmmaker Darius Clark Monroe and the real-life drama of his Evolution of a Criminal
This weekend, award-winning filmmaker Darius Clark Monroe returns to the scene of his crime.
The Houston native will be back in
H-Town for screenings of Evolution of a Criminal,
his extraordinary autobiographical documentary, at the Alamo
Drafthouse Vintage Park. But wait, there’s more: His attendance at
post-screening Q&A sessions Friday and Sunday will cap off what has turned
out to be a week of singular achievements for the University of Houston
graduate. Just two days ago, Monroe successfully completed a
Kickstarter campaign to fund a wider release for his film. A few hours
later, the International Documentary Association announced his selection as winner
of the IDA
Emerging Filmmaker Award, a prestigious honor that provides $5,000 in cash and a
donation of post-production services valued at $50,000.
As one of Monroe’s former teachers – he was in my Broadcast and Film Writing
Class at UH a decade ago – I am unabashedly proud of what has he has done. And,
yes, frankly astonished by how far he has gone.
For the benefit of those who tuned in late: Darius Clark Monroe was a straight-A
honors student at a Houston high school until the morning in 1997 when, along
with two companions, Pierre Murphy and Leroy “Trei” Callier III, he held up a Bank of America in
nearby Stafford, Texas. Brandishing an unloaded shotgun, and disguised with
Halloween masks, the neophyte bandits made off with $140,000 in cash. But
Monroe didn’t get to enjoy his ill-gotten gain for every long. Four weeks after
the crime, he was arrested.
He was 16 years old at the time.
Artfully entwining dramatic re-creations, archival photos and footage, blunt-spoken
narration, and interviews with many participants (ranging from Monroe’s mother
and stepfather to the assistant D.A. who
prosecuted his case) in this real-life tale of crime and punishment, Monroe has
fashioned a uniquely fascinating and pitilessly self-critical film that serves
as both a cautionary object lesson and a heartfelt plea for forgiveness. (We actually see Monroe tracking down people who were in the bank that day,
and attempting to apologize for the terror he caused them.) But, hey, don’t
take my word for it: Writing in The New Yorker, critic Richard Brody hailed
Evolution of a Criminal as “a great film” that signals “the birth of an
artist.” Alan Scherstuhl of The Village Voice agreed:
“Vital,
thoughtful, and deeply personal, first-timer Darius Clark Monroe’s autobiographical
doc stands as a testament to the power of movies to stir empathy.”
Monroe was tried as an adult, and served three years of a five-year
sentence. After that? Well, to paraphrase one of Strother Martin’s more
colorful lines from Cool Hand Luke, he got his mind right. He
graduated with honors from University of Houston, then went on to attend film
school at New York University – where he studied under Spike Lee, who served as
an executive producer for Evolution of a Criminal.
Spike and I were on hand to cheer our former student when the
documentary had its world premiere last spring at the SXSW Film Festival in
Austin. Three days after the screening, I
sat down with Monroe to talk about what he did, what he’s doing – and what he
hopes to do next.
OK, as bad
as the bank robbery turned out for you – and I would say having to serve three
years in prison, and picking cotton out in the hot Texas sun, is pretty damn
bad -- there are two ways this could have turned out much worse for you. One,
somebody in the bank could have been packing heat, and shot you very dead. In
Texas, let's face it, that's a very real possibility.
Darius Clark Monroe: Absolutely.
The other
way it could have been a lot worse is -- you could have gotten away with it.
You ever spend a lot of time thinking about those two possibilities?
Monroe: The third possibility is someone else -- Pierre or someone
-- could have got shot as well. I have thought about all three, especially the
first one you just mentioned. When I think back about the fact that we walked
in there -- it's almost frightening. Because I could never do it now, at 33. We
were sitting ducks. The fact that somebody was not shot and killed... wow. Had
a customer or had an undercover cop been inside the bank and shot and killed
myself or Pierre, they would have had the right to. They would have had the
absolute right to.
They
wouldn't have known the shotgun wasn't loaded.
Monroe: They would not have known it. They would not have known it. That response would
have been warranted. That sits with me the most because it's not uncommon for
that to happen, for somebody who's already in there having a concealed weapon ‑‑
especially in the state of Texas. There's something about youth and being
reckless, I guess. Reckless abandonment. Because I have no idea how we thought
it would be safe to just walk in, run in. We tried to rationalize it, but it
haunts me to this day. I feel very fortunate that I am alive, and that everyone
inside the bank is alive, that no one was physically harmed. Because the odds
of that happening were astronomical.
I believe that something in the universe,
something much greater than me, was in charge that day for whatever reason. [Laughs]
I think about that all the time. All of the time.
Not getting caught is also something that
fascinates me. I always wonder, what does that mean? [Pause] You know what,
Joe? The thing is, I just know my personality. I'm one of those people who need
to... Well, when I was 16, at the time, when I made a mistake, I needed to see
a harsh punishment before I learned my lesson sometimes. I'm not saying [a
punishment] as harsh as picking cotton in the prison. But a slap on the hand? I
would not have learned my lesson. You see what I'm saying? Had I just walked
into that bank and we robbed it, and I would have never been charged and
nothing ever happened -- I probably would have stumbled into crime again. It
would have felt too easy. It would felt like, "This is something we could
get away with." I can see how that would have just opened up this
monstrous side of me that I wasn’t aware of. I could just see how that would
not have been a good thing. [Laughs] I tell people, "As much as I hated to
go to prison, that experience really did reorder and realign my life in the
right direction." Because otherwise, I probably would have gone down a
path of crime.
Where were
you incarcerated?
Monroe: I was in Midway, Texas,
which is 40 minutes outside of Huntsville, for three years.
At what
point in that three‑year period did the light bulb go off over your head, and
you thought: "You know, I could make a movie out of this?"
Monroe: Never. When I was in the place, I had no idea
that I was going to ever make a movie about this whole situation. The truth is,
once I got out, I did not want to talk about the situation. I feel like I was
just driven, like I was almost on some type of high, some drug. I really wanted
to distance myself further and further away from the robbery, the prison,
everything that had happened. I was trying my best to do it, and then it just
came full circle in film school. In film school, they talk about getting
personal and digging deep. I realized there was this thing weighing on me and
that I wanted to talk about, finally.
I knew
nothing about your past when you were in my class at University of Houston. But
I will say this – and I’m not stroking you: I’ve been teaching there for nearly
15 years, and I think I could count on the fingers of one hand how many
students I’ve had who were as diligent about turning in their work, and
concerned about their grades, as you. And I told Spike this the other night after
the premiere ‑‑ you're the only
student who's ever gone to the trouble of seeking me out and wanting to go over
every single assignment to make sure you got the right grade for each
assignment. All of which makes me think: Once you decided to go down the
straight and narrow path, you weren't going to take any detours.
Monroe: No.
You were
going to keep your pedal to the metal.
Monroe: That’s the truth. I was just telling the two guys from the
National Film Society that the idea that I wrote down, the feature treatment
idea that I wrote in your class, was the feature treatment idea that I
submitted to NYU for the application. It's a feature film that I want to do in
the next three years. It's not something that has gone away. These are just
things I just keep filed in the back of my head. After the doc, I want to do a
feature titled The Year of Our Lord,
but then after that, it's the feature film I want to do next. [Laughs] In that
class of yours, I was working on the treatment and trying to figure it out.
I'll never forget pitching it to the class. Like I said, I believe the universe
works in very auspicious ways. Even when we took that picture at the premiere,
I was just saying, "This is so..." It was an out‑of‑body experience.
In the
documentary, you talk to Spike and some of your other teachers at NYU about how
they were surprised when they learned about your background. In fact, one of
them says he might have had second thoughts about making you a graduate assistant. Were there people who
didn't want to talk on camera about what their response was to your record? Who
actually had started to, you know, treat you in a different way after you told
them?
Monroe: No. At NYU, I could have interviewed anyone.
It really is a weird situation. Again, I think about perception. They had known
me for many years at that point. I had been a teaching assistant, a graduate
assistant. I was a resident assistant. Even after they found out about the
whole story ‑‑ I had my pre‑thesis review ‑‑ it was difficult for them to have
a knee‑jerk reaction, like, "I can't trust this guy." We've had
drinks. It's a very familial environment because it's such a small faculty and
small student body. I don't think there was one professor who would have turned
down an interview request. And even since then, after I did the interviews,
back in 2007, NYU hired me on as a full‑time TV studio manager, with a felony
on my record. It wasn't like they didn't know what was happening. They knew
exactly what was going on, yet they still trusted me to do the job that I'd
been doing since I got there.
To get back
to the first question: Do you really think you would be here now if you hadn’t
been caught?
Monroe: No, I don’t think so. [Pause] I don’t think
so. Do I think I would be here now had I not done the robbery? Maybe. But if I
was not caught, I’m sure I would be in prison for something else right now. I’m
pretty confident in saying that I wouldn’t be here.
But at 16,
bank robbery seemed like it might be a viable option.
Monroe: Well,
like it says in the film, I was really bothered by the whole situation at home.
It was annoying to me. I was young, and I knew that there was something in me
that was exhausted by the whole financial strain. I was willing to go to
lengths that probably were completely unnecessary -- but for me, it felt like
in my head that this could be done. This is something that could be done to
help out. This was something that could be done.
But I don't want people to think this is just
some Robin Hood story. I was still a kid. I still wanted some nice sneakers. I
still wanted some nice clothes of my own. I think getting arrested and going to
prison straightened me out.
Of course,
the funny thing is, even back then, you already were a director. This
robbery was your idea, was it not?
Monroe: [Laughs] It was.
You did
mastermind it. I used to tell people when I first heard about the robbery,
"Well, I guess he fell in with bad companions back then, because he was
such a great student when I had him." But then I'm watching the
documentary, and I’m thinking, "Damn. Darius was a little budding criminal
mastermind at 16." But also, it’s like, "Hey, he was already writing
the script and directing it."
Monroe: In my mind, it didn't feel like, oh, I'm
going to be the mastermind behind it. I was like, "I want to plan it out
and get you all to follow along with it." But it's so funny, Joe: A lot of
people, when they hear about the story, they're like, "Well, so who influenced
you? I know you fell in with the wrong crowd." I'm like, "I didn't
fall into the wrong crowd." Again, I always think about perceptions. We
really have this bogeyman, in terms of what we think a criminal is or who we
think a criminal is. Folks say, "When I would meet you, you don't look
like a criminal." I always say, "Can you describe to me what that
looks like?"
Hopefully, the film debunks and demystifies, and
forces people to think, "Oh, well, maybe I don't know who's capable of
committing a crime." I feel like more people are capable of doing
something illegal or criminal, something they would never think they’re capable
of doing, than we might think. I think a lot of people, most people, want to
follow the law. But I think some folks, when their back is pushed against the
wall, may make a choice that is illegal.
Who do you
hope this film reaches?
Monroe: I really, really, really want to get this film to a lot of young men -- black, brown,
white, Asian, just a lot of young men -- who feel like they have been left behind, who
are on the road to making a mistake. I hope the film can get them before that
happens. And if they've already made a mistake, they're already in juvenile, if
they're already in prison, if they already are on parole, have a record -- I'm hoping that the film also inspires them
not to be stuck in that space where this mistake consumes them and is their
life. I've met a lot of guys who have a record, have a felony on their record,
and just feel like, "I can't do anything. I can't. I can no longer dream.
I can no longer move away from this." I don't believe that. I really,
strongly don't believe that. And not just crime. I feel that people just should
not be forced to suffer for any
mistake for the rest of their lives.
Outside of that audience, I'm hoping on a
wider level that [the documentary] helps individuals understand that
forgiveness and compassion are two things that we should start practicing in
reality, as opposed to just speaking about it. We should think about that. And
I know it's not easy. Look, there are people that I have a hard time forgiving
myself.
Are you a
religious person?
Monroe: I'm spiritual.
Do you
believe God has a plan for you?
Monroe: I do. Absolutely I do. Absolutely.
I look
forward to screening this movie for my students down the road. But I'm going to
tell you something: After I screen the movie, I plan on saying, "OK, now
you've seen this. I want you to understand my attitude: None of you have any
excuses."
Monroe: It's the truth. [Laughs] I agree, I agree, I agree.
I just hope
you don't mind being used as a teaching tool.
Monroe: No, not at all. [Laughs] Not at all.
Friday, October 17, 2014
And now, a word from my articulate and well-spoken former student: Darius Clark Monroe, director of Evolution of a Criminal
As I mentioned a couple weeks ago: Darius Clark Monroe, a former student of mine -- and, perhaps more important, of Spike Lee -- has launched a Kickstarter campaign to generate $60,000 for a wider release of his critically acclaimed debut feature, the autobiographical documentary Evolution of a Criminal. The good news: As of today, the campaign already has raised more than $20,000. The bad news? Well, as Monroe recently told interviewer Michael Galinsky, he's has some less-than-pleasant experiences while touring with his film on the festival circuit:
I've been on the circuit for most of the year, and I've only met three other documentary filmmakers of color. That number is jarring because people of color are quite prominent in documentary films. It's strange to see filmmakers who have no direct relationship to a community, document said community, and then share that work in theaters filled with people who aren't from that community.
Cultural bias is very real. In addition to noticing a dearth of stories by and about people of color, some questions and/or comments from fellow filmmakers and audience members would leave me speechless. I've been told repeatedly that I'm "well spoken" and "articulate"—which isn't a compliment, by the way. At SXSW, a small, cute white woman, who looked to be in her 50s, gave me a warm hug before asking me how it felt to be an "educated black man." I've been told that my film is "too black" and "not relatable."
You wondered if I felt like I could be myself traveling with the film. I don't know how to be anything other than myself. As a society, we live in a constant state of denial. Navigating the truth is a fraught and contentious experience, but it's the only way to grow. I will always speak truth to power.
I truly hope that all of my students, of all colors, will go on to be as uppity as Monroe. If that doesn't happen, I'm not doing my job right. But I must admit: Given my own spectacularly untidy family history, I had no trouble whatsoever relating to Evolution of a Criminal. Maybe that, even more than my personal interest in Monroe, is why I've already made my Kickstarter contribution.
Monday, September 29, 2014
Evolution of a Criminal deserves a wide theatrical release. You can help make that happen.
A former student of mine named Darius Clark Monroe premiered his exceptional documentary, Evolution of a Criminal, at SXSW a few months back. I wish I could take full credit for inspiring him as a filmmaker, but I kinda-sorta think he learned a lot more from one of his teachers at NYU, a dude named Spike Lee. But never mind: I'll settle for being among the first to hype Monroe's Kickstarter project to fund the theatrical release that his project deserves. You can learn more about it here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)



