THE ARRANGEMENTS had its world premiere at the 45th Hawai‘i International Film Festival presented by Halekulani as part of the Made in Hawai‘i Shorts.
A conversation with director Sonny Ganaden about community, grief, childhood, and making magic with non-actors.
It was during the Made in Hawai‘i Shorts at HIFF when I came across this powerful short film. I had already heard that it was selected for the ‘Ohina Greenlight Award at ‘Ohina Labs and was super excited to watch it. I tried my best to avoid any information about the film before going in, and it was one of those rare times where I patted myself on the back for making such a decision.
THE ARRANGEMENTS is a short film that tells the story of 12-year-old Micronesian boys living at the Kamehameha IV housing apartments who cope with loss through adventure and resilience.
I had the privilege of sitting down with director Sonny Ganaden to talk about how he brought this deeply personal story to life.
The film is remarkable, especially considering you’re working with child non-actors. Can you take me back to the beginning? How did this story come to you?
“I used to be a director of a program called KVibe, an after-school intervention program for Pacific Islander young men and boys out of Kalihi Valley. Still volunteer for them. I was taking a break from lawyering, working with kids, and I got really close with a bunch of boys and their families. We practiced introducing ourselves with name, home, ancestor. With everything we did, whether working on bicycles or basketball practice, we tried to ground ourselves and check in regularly.
When you know somebody who’s seven or eight years old, you kind of just know them even when you leave. I went off to be a politician and then a lawyer again. One of the boys, Maiki Sakuma took his own life at the end of April 2022. He was one of about three kids that I knew who passed away on the same block. One kid, Starsky Willy, was shot by his neighbor in a botched trespassing incident. Another boy was shot by police. Another little girl died. I just thought it was fundamentally unfair.
I was with these kids when they had to interact with the nonprofit, the funeral people, whoever else. Because their moms and aunts and grandmas who are raising them don’t speak English, they had to do a lot of work to be brave. I was there with them while they were grieving online and through action, really crying out. It felt like the world wasn’t paying any attention to it.”
That injustice comes through powerfully in the film. Is this your first narrative short?
“It is. I’ve been a writer for a long time, written for magazines and edited, but this is my first time really tackling narrative. There was a lot I had to learn in this process, but I was very driven to tell this particular story.”
It doesn’t feel like a debut. There’s real mastery in getting those authentic performances from the boys. Did you have that approach planned from the start?
“I’m still learning. I’m taking acting and directing classes now. I submitted the screenplay and got the ‘Ohina Greenlight for the ‘Ohina Film Lab. During the pitch, I used pictures of the boys themselves. Here’s my cast. Here’s where it is. I pitched the story using pictures from my phone of the funeral and these boys and their lives.
I worked with Pacific Islanders in Communications and a director named Kerry Warkia from New Zealand to tighten the script. Then I spent that summer, almost three months, bringing kids over to my apartment and basically forced them into acting class. I realized I didn’t have the skills and they didn’t have it either.
My friend Misa Sione, a wonderful performer, director and educator who works with kids, came over and taught them how to play. We created our own shorthand between me as director and them as actors. It was really collaborative. The kids got into it, asking questions like, “If you were in the story, who’s the little brother?” I explained everything to them. They were very involved in their own characters and development.
I storyboarded everything. I storyboarded everything. I worked closely with Chris Liu, who also directed MASSAGERS 4 SALE, another ‘Ohina Greenlight winner, and with Gerard Elmore as producer. It was just us and the kids. But we’d practiced so much and developed such closeness that I could say, “All right, boys, there’s times in life to laugh. This is the part where we have to cry. We’re going to do it together.” And we did it.
Gerard was a hard sell at first. He told me, “No promises. You’re working with kids and trying to bring in a chicken. I don’t even know if you can pull this off.” After looking at the dailies that first day, we looked at each other and were like, “Oh man, these kids can act.”
There were a lot of artistic choices, you know, like bringing the camera down to like about three and a half feet at the eye level of an eleven-year-old.”
That camera height decision is striking. Can you talk more about that choice?
“That comes from E.T., man. That’s Spielberg. That’s not me. There’re also choices from Stephen King literature, where there’s a big bad out there but you stay with these kids. You don’t leave their side.
I had to convince everybody because I’d spent so much time with these kids in their own world. They have their own language, their own version of Micronesian pidgin, their own way of communicating. The world sees them one way, but they still get by. They take the bus, they live their lives. As a normal adult running through Honolulu, you’re like, “Oh God, here comes some kids.”
But I found them to be so funny. I knew that if you just pointed a camera right at their face and mic them up, you would get some really funny little moments. And we got a lot of them.
My friend Nicole Naone plays the officer. I convinced her with very little direction to play the part. I got her angry and then had the kids making excuses for her right in the moment. I was playing little psychological tricks on my whole cast the whole time, trying to pick up on tricks that other famous directors had done. But I had no money, so I had to do it with what I had.
The chicken was from my friend Kahi Ching. He’s a local artist who raises nice chickens. I borrowed his chicken named Wowo Fat Ching (like the Chinatown building) that has his own Insta! And the kids loved it. They’re like, “Oh my God, you shampooed this chicken. That’s awesome.””
Were you expecting this level of success and recognition?
“This is a dream. I knew I would get good performances. But what I needed was Gerard to put in his full capacity as a producer. We both grew up as brown boys feeling like outsiders. Once he saw what we were doing and how much this meant to these boys and to me, he said, “Okay, I’m going all in.” He dropped everything to get deals with the Hawaiian Youth Symphony and Public Radio.
He was cool with my artistic choices, even though he pushed back a little. We spent a lot of money using archival footage. I spent what little money I had getting an old coin for the film.”
The coin is such a meaningful detail.
“That comes from this idea of home and the notion that in many cultures you have to pay the boatman to get to the other side when you die. I was taking from that tradition. There’s also a whole history in cinema of kids and buried treasure, so I’m intentionally pulling on old tropes.
Even the kids knew at age ten. They’re like, “Okay, buried treasure. I got it. Flashback.” For a lot of the Micronesian kids, people are always telling them, “You’re not from here, where are you from?” There’s nothing more local than a coin from the kingdom.”
You mentioned you and Gerard both grew up as brown boys feeling like outsiders. How did that shared experience inform the film?
“Gerard grew up on the mainland, and like me, he’s got family here. A lot of us know what it’s like to feel like an outsider as a boy of color in America. Once Gerard saw that these boys presented to the world differently than they were to each other, he committed fully to the project.
We made it with no money. There was zero funding. The kids are wearing their own clothes. I went to the swap meet and got those shirts printed. This is just effort, not money.”
The effort definitely showed on screen. Going forward, how do you think this film will impact you and the children?
“I’m a state worker. At some point in my life, I would love to make art. That’s the dream. If this creates opportunities to get an agent, pitch more work, and be part of more writing, that would be amazing. I’m putting together a pitch deck and a pilot about lawyers and gangsters in Honolulu.
For the kids, these are formative years. We couldn’t make this movie again if we wanted to because you’re only twelve once. For not just them but their cousins and the neighborhood, this project means a whole lot. It’s not just a movie anymore. This is a way for them to remember their friend and turn something they just barely survived into something where they get to share it with the world as artists.
Billy, the littlest boy, got into his school play at Waianae Middle School. Erika Esa, now a freshman at Farrington High School, is in theater. They ask, “How do I become an actor when I get older?” I tell them, “You’re already an actor. Go to your after-school play. This isn’t for a certain type of kid anymore. This is for you.”
They see themselves differently now. I can’t ask for more. This made us family. We’re just tight now. For me, it’s been fulfilling to see them grow and see these little kids as artists.
This has opened up a whole world for me too. I got to go to New York for the Pacific Island Film Festival and win an award. I proved to myself I can hang with really talented people. Maybe I get to try something else in the future. I’d love more opportunities to work with not just these kids but trained professionals.”
With such a strong start, it would be a shame not to continue.
“You’re so kind. Thank you.”
Before we ended our conversation, Ganaden wanted to acknowledge the collaborative effort that made THE ARRANGEMENTS possible:
“There’s a lot of people we have to thank. The Hawaiian Youth Symphony. That’s the first time they’d ever done this. It was kids who were the same age, a lot of them go to really nice schools. Hawaiian Youth Symphony kids made the music for these kids. These kids usually don’t interact, but they did for this movie, and they did it at the last showing just a couple days ago. So, it was important to me to do that.
This is kind of a model for how local arts organizations can work together to make good art. We’re all losing funding and who knows if it’s ever going to come back. Collaboration in 2025 and beyond is like the only way we survive to make good art.
The found footage comes from a documentary called THE NAVIGATORS. It documents the first voyage of Hōkūleʻa and follows Mau Piailug, a master navigator from Satawal in Micronesia. When the boys watch it, they can understand the language. It connects the Pacific and it just made sense to me to use that particular footage.”
The HIFF ONLINE CREATIVES & CRITICS IMMERSIVE (HOCCI) program supports sustainable film criticism in Hawai’i through mentorship and paid career opportunities for Hawai’i-based AANHPI critics. The mission of HOCCI is to broaden diversity in film criticism across the Pacific and use influencer branding strategies to spark career opportunities. The 2025 HOCCI is supported by Critical Minded, a grant-making and learning initiative that supports cultural critics of color in the United States.
Abdul-Rahman Sakr is an Arab American screenwriter and filmmaker based in O’ahu. Starting his career performing stand up comedy in Jordan, Sakr went on to study improv at The Second City and earned a Masters in Filmmaking from London Film School. He has been selected as a fellow at notable screenwriting labs including The Writer’s Guild Foundation, Royal Film Commission and Doha Film Institute. He is currently developing his debut feature. His stories center around outcasts and rebels trying to find a place they can call home.
