Whether you directly converse with certain people for a living or not (as I kind of do), there’s always this opportunity somewhere of a flame flickering more vigorously. Running an event like the Femme Filmmakers Festival lends unfathomable chances for conversations that branch out – even beyond film itself – and somehow inspire your mind. One of the great, great aspects of film is that it can show you a part of the world through different lenses. Whether the creative force or the captivated audience. That magic doesn’t die.
When I sat down and spoke to Molly Lipson, about her Competition Selection short film, No Strings, it was clear to see from the start this young woman had an enrapturing energy. But even then, as I declared her the famous Molly Lipson film director, she coyly laughed off my attempt at charm, “Never been called famous before.” I too, admitted I still get nervous speaking to people, even though I do it for the day job.
No Strings is an accomplished one-room short film, that without being explosive or showy, invites you to ponder on the shitty parts of the world with a kind of tranquil consideration. Running with the flow of a kind of exhilaration I often find when picking the brains of filmmakers, I immediately jumped in with a question I often ask. Where does that love of film come from?
“It’s an interesting question because I don’t think I’ve ever had that exact thought.” Molly was already naturally against the grain of film-lovers. “My passion comes more from telling stories generally, and understanding the different mediums I can use to do that. My background is actually not in filmmaking but more in social justice work. But of course you can’t really make a career out of being an activist, so I turned to writing instead.”
“I got involved in a film that a good friend of mine was writing and I just loved the process. I loved the world, the story that we built, all the bits that you don’t even see in this 10 minute film.”
No Strings, at around the 10 minute runtime, channels themes around cultural crisis and identity. And the film is weaved so well, telling the real-time scenario between two main characters, the filmmaker also touches on adult relationship dynamics.
If you ask me for my love of film, you will likely hear me talk about when I was like four years-old and watched E.T. at the cinema. Or when I first got swept up in the scope of cinema with Doctor Zhivago. But with Molly Lipson, it is very much like, she stumbled upon it because her passion was somewhere else. Was great to flesh that out. But then I asked Molly, surely you should be making documentaries?
“You’d think.” Molly admitted, sharing my obvious proposal. “And it was in fact a documentary that first got me kind of really involved in this kind of work. But I think because in part my media writing is more documentary style in the sense that it’s real life, real people. And maybe you’ve had the same experience, but in the media space I came up against a lot of hostility for the kind of themes I wanted to explore and the way that I wanted to write.”
“I turned to film as a way to be able to tell the stories I wanted to tell without that pushback. There’s no such thing as neutrality in the media. The media is probably one of the most biased pillars of society that we have, and I wanted to tell the stories I think are important to tell. So maybe that’s why I sort of moved towards more narrative drama.”
At this point even I was half-joking when I suggested to Molly we forget the film talk and dive deeper into all of this. But alas, it was the perfect time to encourage Molly to seek out the films of Petra Costa. A fascinating Brazilian filmmaker, who made The Edge Democracy, where she studies the turbulent Brazilian government, and also one of my all-time favourite films, Elena, a beautiful film about Petra’s sister. She’s incredible, and right up your street, I told Molly.
So let’s talk directly about the film, No Strings. There’s three things happening in this film for me. There’s the element of antisemitism and how that is weaponised, the climate crisis, and the relationship between the two characters. “A lot of what happens in the film is inspired by true events, and things that happened to me. I’m Jewish so this film has antisemitism at its core, but the truth is, it’s really about the way that racism is manipulated for political gain.”
Molly blended these elements and events seamlessly into these 10 minutes of No Strings. And it’s fascinating watching her speak so openly about this personal inspirations. Of course, there is also this developing relationship between Sam and Milly. And some of the morals that are personal and / or challengeable. There are a couple of funny lines in there, but also some relatable bits of dialogue, where perhaps you stop and think – well, he is not boyfriend material. Kind of like a wake-up call perhaps.
“Yes, I think you got it exactly right.” Molly’s enthusiastic response. The film is about lots of things, including the relationship between these two people. The performances of the two leads certainly honour Molly’s words from the page to the screen. But also in the responsive gestures, particularly the actress playing Milly (almost wrote Molly), who has these moments of indecision or doubt, and you can see it in her eyes. There must have been some great efforts prior to shooting to develop the psychology of these characters.
“Yeah, I also really wanted to have space to explore that. I was interested in what that did to Milly and to her character, and what she would do in that moment. I had a lot of fun writing that, and directing Jessie who’s absolutely incredible as Milly in this – and really drawing out that response. It was easier to write Sam. It’s always easier to write a villain. It’s much harder to write a flawed character that you want the audience to really like.”
“I was really careful that what she said wasn’t perfect. The whole point is that it’s not perfect. It’s not what she would have said if she had been able to go like – pause – and freeze the world for an hour whilst I think this through.”
Just the whole ambience of speaking to someone like Molly Lipson is a massive positive. As I have said before – and by no means belittling any film-going experience – these kind of conversations can be in many ways far greater than the films as a celluloid unit. Amazing to hear this woman speak. Not that the struggles this filmmaker has had don’t really mean a lot in the grand scheme of things. On the contrary.
That said, I could not let Molly go with asking about the actual writing process. How do you write a screenplay? Do you sit by yourself? Do you go into a cabin somewhere? Or do you like to be surrounded by music and dogs?
“I’m a classic freelancer. I work in cafes, libraries, wherever I can find a spot. When I first started writing the script, there was a friend and I, just sort of thought we’d have a bit of fun with it and just play around. We wrote ridiculous scripts where Milly is screaming insults at him. It was all very silly, but it was a lot of fun. And then I sort of took it off on my own and started writing it myself.”
“Sometimes I remember like being on the tube and a line would come to me, and I’d have to whip my laptop out and just get it down. The thing I love about scriptwriting is you don’t need the internet so you can literally write wherever you can. I can write bits on my phone and copy and paste it over to my script editing software. Very often I would leave voice notes to myself. Like when you’re falling asleep and you get the best idea for the best scene ever.”
And what of your audience, Molly Lipson? How do you hope the audience would react from the film? “That’s a really difficult question. I think when you make film, you have to make it almost for yourself, not always with the audience in mind. You can’t force audiences to think what I think. So I guess what I want to do is plant a seed. I want the audience to leave that film thinking a bit differently about the situation. About activism, about patriarchy, about Zionism, about Israel, about Palestine. And to see a different perspective.”
“I also hope people are also bowled over by the acting. I hope people like the music at the end. That’s one of my favourite Yiddish songs. And I hope people think that, for a first film, it’s a great attempt. I want an audience to kind of think as they leave, in terms of the message, go and have discussions.”
In truth, by the time I spoke to Molly, I had watched No Strings twice. And it meant more the second time. I would almost persuade audiences to read the interview first, because of the passion and the background it gives. So I think it’s so important to get context. You often land on a little bit of surprise when you interview filmmakers. And this was one I won’t shake off any time soon. But at this stage, dare I even ask this bold woman about her opinion on where female filmmakers are in the world at the minute?
“We can get a little bit wrapped up in accepting less than we deserve. I don’t believe in that. We should aim much, much higher. Be bolder with our demands. What happens is we see some success, but we also forget that that is such a drop in the ocean. I want to see more racialised filmmakers. More filmmakers from the Global South. I want to see more women filmmakers and trans filmmakers and non-binary filmmakers. For me, the word ‘women’ or ‘female’ doesn’t really encapsulate all the people whose work, whose stories and perspectives are not being told. Art should have the power to change society.”
And what next for Molly Lipson? “I’m in the process of making another two short films. I am also the founder and managing editor of Short Stuff, an independent media platform dedicated to coverage of short films.”
Of course, at this stage, Molly is speaking our language more than ever. We must stay in touch. It is conversations like these where I can’t grumble about not being paid or pushing aside praise for organising the Femme Filmmakers Festival. So thank you Molly, for bringing your humongous personality and short film, No Strings, to our festival. It’s a film that clearly has a lot of personal passion that gone into it, but remains very down to earth, and doesn’t strangle you to death with its messages.
“Thank you. And that again goes back to your question about documentary, possibly, that I think it’s a challenge for me to not preach. So how can I tell my message without beating someone over the head with it. So thank you, that really means a lot.”
