It's Not Not-Acceptance
an interview with Sandulela Asanda
Sandulela Asanda went to an all-girls boarding school, and has now made a feature about going to an all-girls boarding school. Black Burns Fast is out in cinemas countrywide as of last Friday, after a massive festival run that included DIFF last year. Following our review, we tried to figure out how she got from Mirror Mirror, her DIFF-winning short film, to screening her first feature in so many cinemas and doing so many goddamn interviews.
bios: What's the one question you keep getting asked in interviews that you're so tired of?
Asanda: I'd say the meaning of the title. Because I thought it was self-explanatory.
bios: Yeah, I saw that, and I was like, “Why are they asking that?”
Asanda: A lot of the foreign publications I've spoken to ask me, “Is South Africa really like that? Are white people really like that?” And I'm always just like, okay guys… I get it. It was interesting to see how little people knew about modern South African social relations, but I guess we don't have a lot of modern work that speaks to that.
bios: But that's just Hollywood. The world's going to perceive us the way the world's going to perceive us.
Asanda: Very much so. But it was also clear to me that people are hungry to know what's happening now. I knew instinctively there was a need for the story, and that there'd be an audience. But experiencing it now is a different thing.
bios: A lot of reviews position it as a queer story, and I think that shuts other people out who actually need to see it.
Asanda: It's a double-edged sword, right? I made this film to contribute to the queer canon with a film that's light, that's positive.
bios: Yeah.
Asanda: We seldom get that, especially when it's an African narrative too. I did that purposefully, but at the same time, I'm having important political conversations in that film that I want wider audiences to be part of. But at the end of the day, I made this for my younger self who didn't have access to this kind of film.
bios: Well it's not Skoonheid, that's for sure.
Asanda: Yeah.
bios: There is a lot of hand-wringing in gay cinema...
Asanda: Yeah, the kids need to know it's chill, that it can be happy on the other side. Especially the way Luthando and her mother's relationship ends up, it's more of a limbo. It's not fully acceptance, but it's also not not acceptance.
bios: And that's just the reality sometimes.
Asanda: People need to see that in-between. Because more often than not, that is the reality.
bios: There's no big resolution at the end. They're just friends, and the relationship with the mother is just where it is, and the relationship with Jodie is just...that's where they are.
Asanda: Yeah, and I did that on purpose, really, because they're in high school. So much is going to change about them. They're going to grow so much. Maybe they'll still end up being best friends. I hope they do. And I know it's funny me saying that because I'm the one who kind of is in control of that, but—
bios: Really? Because you said... you put the film out into the world and...
Asanda: Yeah, exactly. People can run with where they think the future is happening. Even the actresses have their own ideas about what happens next. They've been pitching me a feature. It's funny to hear them do it, and it's also great because they're just that excited. I don't know if that'll be what I'm doing.
bios: But you've given them the licence to imagine.
Asanda: Yeah, and I'm really proud of that. I'm really proud of that.
bios: There's a line in the film where a teacher says, “It's taboo, chaps. It's taboo.” I love that — because I've read somewhere you've got a background in economics and law?
Asanda: Yes, right.
bios: For me, that line is really about how much law and economics govern the way we move through systems. I know it's comedy, but does that background play into how the characters move through and negotiate the school system in the film?
Asanda: Oh, definitely. It also informs my understanding of the film and the characters. I can't not think about those things. And also of Rhodes Must Fall — I was in varsity when it was all going down, so I'm very informed about how these systems and structures work. And I do bring that into my work.
bios: What I like about that — because I can see it happening in the work, and I can see you upending it in certain places — is that you have such a light touch about it. You don't make a speech.
Asanda: Yeah, because you know what I've learned? That's part of why I really wanted this film to show in South Africa. Because you know what? Sometimes South Africans are so used to being lectured to, and for us to really listen to things, we have to laugh first.
bios: There's that moment where she makes the comment about apartheid, and then gets kicked out of class for it. That's essentially a joke that becomes quite serious. But she ends up walking down the corridor kind of dismissing it. So you contain something in there — the reversal of not being able to speak about these things in certain situations — and you just handle it lightly. I think that's really valuable, that we can dismiss these things.
Asanda: Yeah, and especially in these schools, no one wants to talk about these things. I don't know — my brain is saying people take it too seriously. I do think it is a thing to be too serious about, for it to be taken seriously. But the problem is that there are people carrying it as if they were there then, and as a result they don't want to engage at all when you want to talk about the outcomes and how they affect us now. Whereas we can't have these conversations without getting personal, and acknowledging — yes, maybe you weren't actively part of the past, maybe you weren't born yet, but we're still dealing with the effects.
bios: There's heavy stuff that happened in the past and heavy stuff happening now, but… okay, so I was reading this local culture magazine written by academics, everything they say is pertinent, but it's so opaque in its heaviness that no one outside of that circle is going to read it.
Asanda: That's why I love film, because it's a more accessible way to have these conversations. People are more willing to watch it. But then again, like you said, if you make it heavy, it's going to keep getting heavier. So it's about being smart about how you approach it.
bios: I like that the film is smart in that it's not smart. You've taken all these issues and given them to teenagers. And you can't really argue with teenagers.
Asanda: No, you can't.
bios: So you went to a boarding school, right — did you shoot the film at your boarding school?
Asanda: Oh no, no, no, no.
bios: That's disappointing.
Asanda: You know what the problem is? My boarding school is in the middle of the Eastern Cape, and very far. You shoot in a different province and that adds millions of rands to your budget, and the film commission won't give you that money from here and that money from there. So we actually shot at three different schools in Cape Town — Rustenburg Girls' High School, SACS, and Sans Souci.
bios: Oof! The trifecta of boarding schools.
Asanda: Yeah. Bishops was out because everything is all white.
bios: Yes, and they won't fly a pride flag.
Asanda: Exactly. They wouldn't let us in, probably.
bios: So did you at any point want to shoot at your old boarding school?
Asanda: Oh yeah, that was my initial desire. And then when it came to putting the costs down, I was like, oh, I don't think so. Even when I wrote the script, I wrote it with my school's layout in mind.
bios: The exact geography of it really helps.
Asanda: But just when we had to look at the costs, and how much it would take — also, the time we wanted to shoot, my school was writing exams. In my mind I was like, oh, it's perfect, because we can use one of the boarding houses to house all the crew and everything. But it's just too expensive, and there's no film infrastructure in the Eastern Cape really. We'd have to bring all the gear, all the crew. It's just way too costly.
bios: So you did the short film for DIFF — and then how did you develop the feature? Did you have a producer already?
Asanda: Cait Pansegrouw, at the time, yeah. The short was actually made in the middle of developing the feature — it was part of that process for me, to develop a few characters and work through the dynamic between Luthando and her mom.
bios: So where did you and Cait become a team? I'm thinking about this from the point of view of a younger filmmaker who wants to make a film and doesn't know where the fuck to start.
Asanda: I was an intern at Cait’s production company, then I worked as a junior producer, so we'd already worked together. I was also a project manager for the Realness Screenwriters Residency, which Cait was a mentor for, so she already knew I had an interest in screenwriting. Then in 2020 I quit both jobs to pursue directing and writing full time. I came to her with this idea, and she was like, “Okay, cool. I love your vibe. I can see you're disciplined. I like your point of view. So let's do this together.” We've literally been in it together from the get go.
bios: And then how did you finance the film? Did you have NFVF money?
Asanda: The NFVF came in with post support, and funding for marketing and distribution.
bios: So your short Mirror Mirror helped you get the funding?
Asanda: Yes. Mirror Mirror was financed with PESP money — we had a budget of like 250k and shot it in my apartment for two days. It got into TIFF and Berlin and all these places, and we used that for pitching and finance. We got into the DFM Pitch and Finance Forum and I ended up winning the award for best feature film pitch, plus another award that basically sent us to FAME Week Africa for free. Then we pitched to Amazon and got the short film in front of them, which resulted in a pre-sale for the feature.
bios: And that's a producer!
Asanda: Yeah, and the financing wasn't easy because we went to the broadcasters and they were like, nah. A lot of them said it wasn't relevant. I was like, are gay kids still having issues today? When I checked the news that morning, a 17-year-old killed themselves because they were bullied by the teacher and their classmates. So yes, it's very relevant.
bios: Like the Bishops thing. A little bit relevant.
Asanda: Yeah, and even just the way the film addresses racism, every year there's an incident. Every year. I think this weekend somewhere in Cape Town a rugby game was stopped because one of the players called a black player the K word.
bios: Ah, Jesus. So, yeah... K-bombing. These things are relevant. They don't stop being relevant just because they stop being marketable.
Asanda: Exactly.
bios: That scene with the little hearts being held up — the analogue hearts?
Asanda: Yeah.
bios: You get asked about that a lot, I think.
Asanda: Not directly. People are more interested in just the general style.
bios: Because there's that one heart on the side that's slightly off in terms of the balance of the frame, sorry. Anyway, that moment, did it come out like it was in your head?
Asanda: It came out the way I wrote it. The fun part, at least for me, was that the art department were the ones to figure out how it was done practically. I'm not someone who understands symmetry and perfection — it's okay to have things a little bit off. I'm not trying to be Wes Anderson.
bios: You know, Fuck Wes Anderson. He was desperate to get Pauline Kael’s opinion on Rushmore. So, he tracked her down in retirement and organised a private screening so he could get her critical reaction. She came out the cinema and told him, “I genuinely don't know what to make of this movie.”
Asanda: That's also why I'm like, don't ever meet your idols. Don't even ask them. I met Cheryl Dunye in Berlin. She didn't have time to watch my film, so she asked me to send her the link, and I to this day have not.
bios: Somebody who honestly engages with film on that level is not going to be a dick about it. They might tell you something you need to know.
Asanda: True. Yeah, that's very true. Actually, maybe I will.
bios: Exactly. You miss 100% of the shots you don't take.
Asanda: Very true.
bios: So you're busy doing the press tour. Have you been into cinemas and watched young people watch this movie without knowing that you're there?
Asanda: No, not yet. I might do it — we've got a Bertha House run-out screening tonight in Khayelitsha, and I'm planning on going to see the reactions and for the Q&As. I'm looking forward to it. But no, I haven't, because I've watched it with festival audiences.
bios: Watching it at a festival with people who are engaged with film is very different to watching it with a bunch of kids.
Asanda: Yeah, definitely. I think it'll be fun, just sitting in the back. But also, I'm in the film a little bit and I cringe so much when I see it. I'm like, why did I do it? I was like, let me do what Taika Waititi does. Never again.
bios: It'll happen again. You'll have to stand in for an actor at some point in your life. So, one last thing: the girls are meant to be the mean girls, and then they turn out to be really sweet.
Asanda: Yeah.
bios: I felt this moment of — ah. And there's a lot you do with tropes — it's a tropey setup, and you just refuse to do the trope. There's no great Say Anything moment in it.
Asanda: Yeah, yeah.
bios: I think that's valuable because it's real life.
Asanda: Yeah, and honestly, that's my experience. Everyone thinks the group of black girls is going to be bitchy and mean. It's like, nah guys, we're just literally trying to survive this environment until we get out.
Addendum: After the Bertha screening in Khayelitsha, Sandulela sent us this voice note:
“It was really amazing, to be honest. I kind of had tears in my eyes because just, like, hearing, like, people laughing, it was just really great. It made me feel really proud of myself to know that, like, that the humour and the resonance not only translated, like, yes, at the film festival, but also, like, with local audiences the way that I had hoped it would. Yeah, I just felt, like, really happy and emotional about it.”