It’s as if I flew through a portal into another world I hadn’t dared to step into. People have told me over the years I could be an actor, my English teacher in middle school, Dan Lauria, too. But even though it seemed exciting, something in me swept it away, as if it were something for those people and not necessarily for little old me. It felt foreign or scary in a wilderness kind of way. Rather than standing on the outskirts, or stepping into the theater for a stint then leaving, I was invited to stay and find my place on the “other” side.
Two years ago, a friend was preparing for a film festival at Turtle Bay and asked me two days before the show for help. She needed t-stands, 2×4’s to post banners, and 1,000 individualized containers of popcorn to say the least. I made phone calls and ran errands to help her for the big day. When it was just about to start she invited me to join in the festivities. Everyone was dressed so nicely and she encouraged me to wear her younger sister’s old prom dress. It was white with all these orange jewels and, surprisingly, it fit me like a glove. Is this what it feels like to be a movie star? So many women asked where I got my dress! But it wasn’t all glam. I worked throughout the festival, following demands and putting out fires. There’s a lot more to this work behind the scenes, far more than I was cognizant of in the dark theater room and comfy seat. As the busy day came to a close, I headed back upstairs to return to my street clothes or maybe some pajamas when I ran into Jana Park. It was as if a portal all of a sudden opened up in the middle of that hotel lobby. She asked me if I were in the industry. And I questioned myself, little old me? I told her I was helping a friend when she said, “Well you should be! Let’s see where we can work together.” There was a glimmer in her eye, I could tell she meant it. I felt exponentially more curious peering into the wilderness.
Jana is now the Industry Coordinator for HIFF in addition to a slew of other amazing things she’s managing, a part of, and nurturing, beyond raising three beautiful children. Truly inspiring. She sent me a link for the application for the HOCCI (HIFF Online Creative Content Immersive) cohort once it dropped. That glimmer didn’t mean I was guaranteed acceptance either. Having access to LinkedIn Premium, you can see who visits your account and I saw a team of local creatives visiting my profile. I could tell there was a grip of people determining who would make up the cohort. I was accepted along with 9 others and we made up a diverse group in terms of backgrounds, interests and what we each brought to the table. Thrown into the thick of things only two days before the festival started, we were equipped. Given our mission, our badges and a map (the schedule of showtimes and events), we landed on the scene like something out of SURVIVOR. And what could’ve been a competition felt a lot more like a community, each finding our place to contribute and thrive. And if I may be so bold in saying we wanted to see each other win. Even Sean Oketani, our HOCCI program coordinator, noticed and even sparkled a few times throughout the season in excitement for our cohort. Or maybe that’s just him, shimmering per usual. I do think our cohort’s charm has a lot to do with what HIFF has cultivated over these last 40+ years. The invitation to us, new to the game, was such a kind gesture in an industry that seemed so cut throat from the outside. With access granted and our creativity lit like a match, time management and communication became our means for survival.
In the group chat after the reception dinner you could read an exclamation, “We’re in the room!” And the excitement rang true. Rather than the film industry being this bubble floating beyond reach, we were in the bubble. Maybe it felt especially whimsical stepping into the foyer of The Halekulani hotel, into a party we were invited to and I looked down and was still wearing my street clothes! As if by a snap of some fingers the wild turned into a serious glamp and we had a seat at every table. We met filmmakers from all across the Pacific. If I would’ve known I would’ve at least brushed my hair! I was still stepping on the scene thinking, little ole me. But in what felt like all of a sudden, things changed drastically.
It seems that up until this point I was being primed for some kind of delectable roast. I thought I smelled fire back there. And all of a sudden it was time to eat. Out the gate we got to meet with Emerson Goo, a professional film critic who had been writing since he was in high school. If you’d like to jump in in this way, too, download Letterboxd and let your fingers fly! He brought insight into the breadth of our potential as people who enjoyed movies and all the places we could go with that core element. Any crutch we had or echo of self doubt could dissipate by his story and all he shared. He even gave us access to his personal library, with books that are still helping me own my identity and unique offering. You mean, we could be paid to analyze works of art and share our perspective? We could even go beyond our neighborhood theater and be invited to film festivals across the globe! You don’t have to be in the spotlight to be a part of the message, you can be part of the change in your theater seat. With enough grit and attention to the things you care about, your voice can be instrumental. This step into the wilderness was stirring something deep within me. Is this discomfort? Am I feeling queasy? Oh no – it’s just new, and synapses are firing rapidly. Keep leaning into the “other” side.
Catching good film after great film and back again, I saw Anderson Le, the Artistic Director for HIFF, be a liaison between the audience and the filmmakers. Film after film, panels were held and I was further enriched even after the credits rolled. Talk about the end of my understanding unfold. I didn’t understand how he could do such thought provoking work day after day in such a jam packed circuit but I decided to ask less questions and lean into the gift of hearing a many filmmakers’ process. That was until I was exposed to an even greater variety of distinct roles filling the rooms. I happened to be sitting next to a Script Supervisor in one of the panels. I got to hear about this role I hadn’t once heard of prior and who knows if I would’ve without those windows of opportunities between screenings, to meet others steeped in the industry. It was yet another curtain drawn for the opportunities laden on the forest floor.
After the centerfold screening of MOLOKA’I BOUND, my friends and I remained in our seats digesting out loud the juicy juice that just unraveled before us. The theater was almost empty when Chapin Hall, the cinematographer for the film, was encircled by the remaining audience. I’m usually shy about this stuff, being a fan, but there we were in line. I’m so glad my friend, Jade, made a point to say hello because I got to meet a really stand up dude and gained even a little more insight. It’s not like Chapin became a noteworthy cinematographer overnight, he took advantage of his opportunities. He started his creative career working in the art department lending his hands to set and prop design. Then an opportunity presented where he became a loader, hauling equipment off and onto trucks for shoots which contributed to his unique design. On his most recent art project, he even got a chance to develop his skills around some stripper poles. Who would’ve thought! You’ll have to catch MOLOKA’I BOUND to catch what I mean. There are so many roles to fill but if we look at it more like our experiences as tools that we get to add to our toolshed, this experience with HIFF makes me even more excited to go home and see what I can build. We all have different skill sets, from admiring and analyzing to expediting and orchestrating and within the myriad, as challenging as it may be at times, we can find work that we’re pumped to get back to the next day, projects that keep us on the edge of our seats. I don’t take for granted, not for a second, that I get to sit with these people. The wild was feeling a lot more toasty and I became much more comfortable under the stars.
There was another curtain drawing workshop led by Taylor Ramos and Tony Zhou where we explored the making of their short film, THE SECOND, and watched it together, too. Unlike the intimate conversation with Emerson Goo or even the chance to sit with the Deacons, this workshop was available to all who attended HIFF and even those who weren’t able to make the festival. If this includes you, you can attend right now, online! There’s no gatekeeping with their process and they make it feel so fun, too! Probably because they are having fun! I had briefly learned about storyboarding in the past, but they shared their play-by-play and pro-tips which made film making seem ultra accessible. One being to convey your story, not your artistic abilities because as William Goldman so eloquently stated, “Nobody knows anything.” This hit my gutturals. To be frank, I was feeling a little bit of imposter syndrome walking into this festival and may just be what kept me from stepping into the industry in the past. Who did I think I was feeling glamorous, having access, saying something and people caring? You know what? Maybe even a filmmaker one day. Taylor and Tony shared how they had stacks of journals with all these ideas before finally landing on the vision they wanted to bring to the big screen. It made my stack of journals feel less like a pile of old newspapers and more like part of the process. The wilderness was feeling a lot less like another world and much more familiar. In 12 days, and all these new mentors, colleagues and may I even say friends, it felt as if we had been revisiting these campgrounds for years. Maybe this was less like stepping through a portal and more like a chance to wake up from the dream.
The two weeks HIFF was in Honolulu flew by. One evening I remember catching my new friends, Anette and Ikani, outside of the Kahala theater with espresso at 8pm. The festival was surely doing a number on us with so many wonderful movies to see, intimate workshops, and events thoroughly enjoyed. It took energy to bring to life and it took energy to take part and it makes me think about community, reciprocity and the value of keeping the fire burning. We would’ve held each other’s eyes open if we could. Don’t sit next to me if you want to sleep. You’ve been warned!
As quickly as the festival came and went, so was the time given to complete these assignments. I want to tell you about my favorite event of the season and spend a sliver of time vlogging about it so let me wrap up here. With so many possibilities in the film industry, who knows where we’ll end up. By investing in the people on the come up, the net was widened and the number of people proudly calling themselves creative increased. They say if you really want to give someone a gift, give them the fishing pole rather than the fish. As a HOCCI mentee, I feel like I was given the pole, the fish, the fire, the stew, the smoked bits, too. We organized time around the fire to share our mo’olelo and that which connects us more than what divides us. And like the people before us, all across the pacific, we got to practice sharing our stories together. Let’s continue to congregate and burn bright. The world will get a little less scary. It already has.
Mahalo nui loa.
Chari Horton is native to Hawai’i yet doesn’t carry Hawaiian blood. Her mother is from Japan and father from Louisiana and she has been on a search for where she comes from since she was a little girl. She continued her quest overseas and graduated from University of Southern California majoring in East Asian Language and Cultures and minoring in Interpersonal Communication. She has gathered that we come from what we care for. Through the pandemic food sovereignty in Hawai’i beckoned her home. Chari is passionate about health and wellness and believes restoring our relationships with our land, ourselves and each other is where our wealth lives. As a HIFF HOCCI Mentee, Chari has an opportunity to contribute to our collective restoration by amplifying our voices and sharing our stories.
The HIFF ONLINE CREATIVES & CRITICS IMMERSIVE (HOCCI) program supports sustainable film criticism in Hawaiʻi through mentorship and paid career opportunities for Hawaiʻi-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 2024 HOCCI is supported by Critical Minded, a grant-making and learning initiative that supports cultural critics of color in the United States.
