DP reunites with director Danny Lee on PBS series which captures the transformative power of the arts
By Robert Goldrich, The Road To Emmy Series, Part 8
There’s something poetic about Larkin Donley applying the art of his cinematography to a documentary series that shows the transformative power of the arts, helping people to rebound from adversity, heal emotional wounds, and find constructive purpose in their lives.
The show is The Express Way with Dulé Hill, which captures diverse artists’ stories from across America, celebrating community, humanity and the positive impact of creative expression. Actor, dancer and singer Hill hosts the show, which enabled Donley and showrunner/director Danny Lee–who have a track record of collaboration–to deploy a brand of cinematic documentary lensing they had long envisioned, acted upon in the past but not quite to this extent.
Donley explained that he and Lee try to make documentary content “as cinematic as possible” without sacrificing authenticity. For example, in the case of the “Appalachia” episode of The Express Way, Donley often used two-camera coverage–ARRI Alexa Mini LFs–and opted for anamorphic lenses, making for an uncommon mix in the docuseries world. The anamorphic aesthetic highlighted the people in a way that Donley felt enhanced their stories. The background falls away and we can immerse ourselves in the artists. Donley additionally went with the RED Raptor XL for Steadicam work and anything that needed to be in slow motion, as well as the RED Komodo that could take on anamorphic or spherical lenses. The Komodo was often used for car shots. Donley strove for a richness in look that didn’t appear artificial and that wouldn’t compromise the reality of a location or experience.
There were very few, if any scenes, that didn’t entail lighting–even when shooting a conversation. Donley used a lighting kit he had developed over the years designed to adapt to different environments on the fly. The multiple forms of lighting and selection of different camera models help to give a filmic feel to what’s real.
Donley added that Hill himself proved invaluable in bringing a creative energy to the docuseries discipline. Hill’s talent as an entertainer served as a dynamic gateway into people talking about their art–and the arts in the big picture. Hill, continued Donley, is a charismatic person and that shows on screen with a commitment to doing justice to the arts and the artists portrayed. This advanced the universality of the series and its mantra that “art is something that can bring people out of times of difficulty.”
On that latter score, Donley is perhaps most gratified by the “Appalachia” episode, which was selected as the entry for Emmy consideration as Outstanding Hosted Nonfiction Series, as well as for its directing, editing and cinematography. "Appalachia" introduces us to, among others, Doug Naselroad who started an Appalachian School of Luthiery in Hindman, Kentucky, teaching people how to craft and make stringed musical instruments. Making instruments that in turn make “the music of the mountains” has proven therapeutically beneficial to the students, including those recovering from drug addiction. It’s a community that’s been hit hard by the downturn of the coal industry, with many having no jobs and feeling there’s no hope, often translating into their turning to alcohol or opioids. Music has a capacity for healing as we hear from Naselroad–who’s dealt with his own adversity–and multiple students who have found that making a good guitar can go a long way to building a better life. At one point, cataclysmic flooding put the town, including the school, out of commission. But folks bonded together to bounce back, resurrecting flooded areas, including the school itself.
Donley observed that Appalachia is both an overlooked area and paradoxically one that has a universality to it. He described the region as “the least understood of the country” with a rich music history that generally is just vaguely defined and only represented in bluegrass and country music. Yet while it’s part of “a missing history,” Donley found the area as a relatable microcosm of the entire U.S.–spanning drug addiction, rehab, the court system, families coping–with opiates being the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Yet the power of art–and the region’s culture–can still “elevate people out of the loop of despair, poverty and addiction.”
The “Appalachia” episode also brought us the story of Amythyst Kiah, a Black folk musician in Johnson City, Tennessee, who as a teen had to battle a broken family life and addiction. She discovered music–specifically West African banjo music and it’s influence on bluegrass–and in turn began to discover herself, counteracting feelings of isolation and abandonment. She is now an accomplished, Grammy-nominated artist.
And then there’s Joe Troop who as a queer teen was struggling to find his way. His love of music led him to travel and to explore Latin American culture, teaching banjo in Argentina. Upon returning to his roots in North Carolina, he connected as a young adult with an immigrant construction worker, Larry Bellorin, a Venezuelan musician. They came together, ultimately yielding Latin-grass, a fusion of Latin-American folk and bluegrass music. Troop and Bellorin perform as a duo, their music not only a hybrid of cultures but also entertainment and social commentary as Troop observed that “art can deliver where words cannot.”
It was of paramount importance to Donley to be true to these stories–while also bringing the beauty of filmmaking to the narrative, to add another dimension to the documentary discipline. Towards that end, Donley noted that he and Lee did more than adopt the documentarian orientation of witnessing the film’s subjects. The director and DP also asked them to participate in a sense–to not only talk about their art but also to share a piece of their art for the documentary. That included, for example, capturing the artistry of Kiah in a production akin to a music video that entailed multiple takes and Steadicam moves.
The Express Way with Dulé Hill adds to a track record of collaboration between Donley and Lee which includes a couple of documentaries for Nike–The Story of Air Max and The Story of Dunk–and a Hulu series titled Defining Moments. Beyond his credits with Lee, Donley's work includes the feature film Animals, which won a Special Jury Award at SXSW, as well as the short NBA Follow My Lead: The Story of the NBA Finals 2016, winner of a Sports Emmy for Outstanding Digital Innovation.
Donley related that his experience on The Express Way with Dulé Hill reaffirmed his belief that “there is always a story to tell. There’s no lack of depth in any environment. If you’re not seeing it, you’re not looking closely enough.” And it’s especially gratifying to find stories that “provide upward mobility and a path for people who don’t have any hope left.”
This is the eighth installment of SHOOT’s weekly 16-part The Road To Emmy Series of feature stories. Nominations will be announced and covered on July 17. Creative Arts Emmy winners will be reported on September 7 and 8, and primetime Emmy ceremony winners will be covered on September 15.)
Review: Director-Writer Megan Park’s “My Old Ass”
They say tripping on psychedelic mushrooms triggers hallucinations, anxiety, paranoia and nervousness. In the case of Elliott, an 18-year-old restless Canadian, they prompt a visitor.
"Dude, I'm you," says the guest, as she nonchalantly burns a 'smores on a campfire next to a very high and stunned Elliott. "Well, I'm a 39-year-old you. What's up?"
What's up, indeed: Director-writer Megan Park has crafted a wistful coming-of-age tale using this comedic device for "My Old Ass" and the results are uneven even though she nails the landing.
After the older Elliott proves who she is — they share a particular scar, childhood memories and a smaller left boob — the time-travel advice begins: Be nice to your brothers and mom, and stay away from a guy named Chad.
"Can we hug?" asks the older Elliott. They do. "This is so weird," says the younger Elliott, who then makes things even weirder when she asks for a kiss — to know what it's like kissing yourself. The older Elliott soon puts her number into the younger's phone under the name "My Old Ass." Then they keep in touch, long after the effects of the 'shrooms have gone.
Part of the movie's problem that can't be ignored is that the two Elliotts look nothing alike. Maisy Stella plays the coltish young version and a wry Aubrey Plaza the older. Both turn in fine performances but the visuals are slowly grating.
The arrival of the older Elliott coincides with her younger self counting down the days until she can flee from her small town of 300 in the Muskoka Lakes region to college in Toronto, where "my life is about to start." She's sick of life on a cranberry farm.
Park's scenes and dialogue are unrushed and honest as Elliott takes her older self's advice and tries to repair... Read More