logo
A newbie's guide to the 27th Roxbury International Film Festival

A newbie's guide to the 27th Roxbury International Film Festival

Boston Globe3 days ago

Advertisement
Q.
Thanks for taking the time to chat, and congratulations on the festival's 27th anniversary.
Get Starting Point
A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday.
Enter Email
Sign Up
A.
It's pretty crazy. You don't even think about the years, you know — you just keep doing it. And then you look back and say, 'Wow! How did we got to this point?'
Q.
What is the festival's mission?
A.
Our mission is to celebrate people of color around the world, and to give opportunities for emerging and established filmmakers to share their vision and their voice.
Four Women of Gulu Town.
Pauline Greenlick
Q.
So what does that mean? Is it just filmmakers of color?
A.
No, it's helping to support those filmmakers who are creating a more diverse vision of people of color. That vision can be celebratory, or can introduce us to people we didn't know before. We're helping to lift up those stories. That's what our focus has always been over the past 27 years.
Advertisement
Q.
How has the festival evolved since its first year? Has it been shaped by ideas from attendees and filmmakers,
or film topics?
A.
For starters, the quality of filmmaking has changed, which is great. And when we started the festival, there were filmmakers from MassArt whose films were not getting into festivals. Back in the 1990s, those festivals were only interested in urban dramas, and Black film is not a monolith. So we also accepted love stories and experimental films that were being rejected by other festival programmers because they didn't understand them. In the earliest days of Rox Film, there weren't a lot of Black film festivals, so we wanted to give people an opportunity.
Initially, we focused on local filmmakers. Then we expanded to people who wanted to bring their films to our festival. 27 years later, it's exciting to see that 40 percent of this year's entries are from local filmmakers. Some of these are from people who grew up going to the festival, or who were actors in a film that played here. Others were just film lovers who created their own production studios to contribute to this Black and brown ecosystem of media makers.
We're seeing how they've grown up to become filmmakers telling stories that are really impactful for their communities. It's something we're really excited about celebrating.
Q.
For submissions, is there a cut-off on runtime or any restrictions on style?
A.
There's a cut-off for feature films of two hours. The main reason for that is, when we curate, we put shorts with features. We have a great short on basketball paired with 'Rap Dixon: Beyond Baseball,' a feature-length film about the Negro Leagues.
Advertisement
Last year, Boston magazine [named] us
Q.
I say this all the time: Regardless of runtime, shorts ARE still movies!
A.
Exactly! And this year we have a ton of shorts. Many of them are by local filmmakers.
Q.
Regarding the shorts: You have several programs grouped by topic. Are those topic buckets consistent or do they change from year to year based on your submissions?
A.
Every year the themes change.
But every year, there are always relationship and sports-themed shorts. There's a great program on reparations this year as well.
Faith Ringgold and Mary Baxter in 'Paint Me a Road Out of Here.'
Heather Woodfield
Q.
Your opening night film, '
installed at Rikers Island. How did you come to select that as the opener?
A.
It wasn't originally scheduled that way. Our festival always opens on a Thursday, and we never do screenings on Juneteenth because of all of the other events that day. But I couldn't wrap my head around opening that film on the festival's first Friday, because that's always a great night for the relationship shorts. So I decided we just have to be part of the ecosystem of Juneteenth. It's a free screening because the museum is free that day. People know Ringgold through her decades of artwork, but the film provides so much more detail.
Advertisement
How great is it to use the opportunity through film to tell deeper stories of our heroes? It's the same as what we're doing with the tribute to Frank Silvera [on June 26].
Q.
The actor from Kubrick's 'Killer's Kiss?' Sorry, I'm a noirista, so I had to ask.
A.
Yes! Uncle Frank is my great-uncle. We talk about Sidney Poitier and Harry Belafonte as pioneers, but we don't talk about Silvera. People think his life started in New York City, but he was working here in Boston at the Negro Theater back in 1935. We want to showcase this history, because even historians like Ruben Santiago-Hudson were surprised when I told them of Uncle Frank's achievements here in Boston.
Q.
I'm a newbie to this festival, so I'm intrigued by the Daily Script Reads and the Filmmaker Hangouts sections you have every day. What are those about?
A.
The Daily Script read allows local writers to submit their new screenplays and we spend a lunch hour listening to them. We invite the writers and we cast it with local actors. Three years ago, local filmmaker David Curtis had his script read, and the film he made screens as
Advertisement
As for the Hangouts: There used to be a great festival in Bermuda that I attended every year, and they had these Filmmaker Hangouts where, after a film, people would go to a restaurant and chat with filmmakers. It's the whole networking thing, and it brings business to local venues, so I adopted it.
We are not a hierarchical festival. The whole point of Rox Film is to give a platform for attendees to meet other people and have discussions about the films.
The Roxbury International Film Festival runs from June 19-27 at various Boston venues. Tickets and scheduling can be found
.
Odie Henderson is the Boston Globe's film critic.

Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

Key moments from the sixth week of Sean 'Diddy' Combs' sex trafficking trial

time18 minutes ago

Key moments from the sixth week of Sean 'Diddy' Combs' sex trafficking trial

NEW YORK -- The sixth week of the Sean 'Diddy' Combs' sex trafficking trial was shortened by a holiday and a juror's illness as prosecutors nearly concluded their case, setting the stage for a one- or two-day defense presentation next week. In the trial's first five weeks, jurors repeatedly heard testimony about drug-fueled marathon sex events described as 'freak-offs' by one of Combs' ex-girlfriends and as 'hotel nights' by another. In the sixth week, they were shown about 20 minutes of video recordings from the dayslong events. Combs, the founder of Bad Boy Entertainment, has pleaded not guilty to sex trafficking and racketeering conspiracy charges in the trial, which continues Monday. Here are key moments from the past week: Jurors largely kept their reactions muted when they were shown about 20 minutes of recordings made by Combs of his then-girlfriends having sex with male sex workers at the elaborately staged 'freak-offs' or 'hotel nights.' Prosecutors say the events were proof of sex trafficking and racketeering conspiracy charges because Combs coerced his employees, associates and even his girlfriends to recruit and arrange flights for sex workers while his workers obtained drugs, stocked hotel rooms with baby oil, lubricant, condoms, candles and liquor and delivered cash. In her opening statement, defense lawyer Teny Geragos had called the videos 'powerful evidence that the sexual conduct in this case was consensual and not based on coercion.' Prosecutors played about 2 minutes of the recordings before the defense team aired about 18 minutes of the videos. The public and the press were unable to observe whether the prosecutors or defense lawyers had the better arguments after the judge ruled that neither the recordings nor the sound could be seen or heard by anyone except lawyers, the judge and the jury. Several jurors seemed to cast their eyes and sometimes turn their bodies away from the screens directly in front of them while the recordings played. The jurors listened through earphones supplied by the court, as did Combs and lawyers. Judge Arun Subramanian started the week by dismissing a juror whose conflicting answers about whether he lived in New Jersey or New York convinced the judge he was a threat to the integrity of the trial. Subramanian said the juror's answers during jury selection and in the week before he was excused 'raised serious concerns as to the juror's candor and whether he shaded answers to get on and stay on the jury.' 'The inconsistencies — where the juror has lived and with whom — go to straightforward issues as to which there should not have been any doubts, and the answers also go to something vital: the basic qualifications of a juror to serve,' the judge said. Residents of New Jersey would not be permitted to sit on a New York federal jury. A day before Subramanian ruled, defense lawyers argued fiercely against dismissal, saying that replacing the Black juror with a white alternate juror so late in the trial would change the diverse demographics of the jury and require a mistrial. The jurors are anonymous for the Combs trial. It wasn't the only issue regarding jurors for the week. The judge, angered by a media report about the questioning of another juror the week before that occurred in a sealed proceeding, warned lawyers that they could face civil and criminal sanctions if such a leak happened again. That juror was not dismissed. And Wednesday's court session had to be canceled after a juror reported "vertigo symptoms" on the way to the courthouse. Defense attorney Marc Agnifilo seemed to close the door on any chance Combs would testify when he said Friday that the defense presentation would be finished Tuesday or Wednesday the following week, even if prosecutors don't rest until late Monday. It is not uncommon for defendants to choose not to testify at criminal trials. Besides being exposed to cross-examination by prosecutors, the testimony can be used by the government against the defendant should there be a need for a retrial. Also, if there is a conviction, the judge can conclude that the jury believed the defendant lied on the stand. Brendan Paul, fresh off the college basketball courts where he once played in a cameo role for Syracuse University, joined Combs' companies as a personal assistant in late 2022 and was warned by a friend who had worked for Combs about what was ahead. 'He told me to get in and get out,' Paul recalled for the jury, citing the endless days and always-on-edge existence. 'If you have a girlfriend, break up with her. And you're never going to see your family.' The friend also instructed him to 'build a rolodex of clientele and get out,' he said. Paul said he worked 80 to 100 hours a week for a music power broker who received 'thousands and thousands' of text messages and emails a day. He was paid $75,000 salary initially, but it was raised in January 2024 to $100,000. He said Combs told him he 'doesn't take no for an answer' and wanted his staff to 'move like Seal Team Six.' Several times, Paul said, he picked up drugs for Combs and knew to keep his boss out of the drug trade because 'it was very important to keep his profile low. He's a celebrity.' The job came to an abrupt end in March 2024 when Paul was arrested at a Miami airport on drug charges after a small amount of cocaine that he said he picked up in Combs' room that morning was mistakenly put in his travel bag as he prepared to join Combs on a trip to the Bahamas. The charges were later dropped in a pretrial diversion program.

We spent 8 hours at Ebony Beach Club's 'Juneteenth on the Pier'
We spent 8 hours at Ebony Beach Club's 'Juneteenth on the Pier'

Yahoo

time5 hours ago

  • Yahoo

We spent 8 hours at Ebony Beach Club's 'Juneteenth on the Pier'

The Ebony Beach Club's priority is to create a space for Black beachside communities in Los Angeles. So, every year on Juneteenth, they transform a local beach into a full-blown festival, consisting of nonstop DJs, a vivacious dance floor and neighborly vendors. This year, the beach club partnered with Black Lives Matter and took over the Santa Monica Pier. Here's everything that went down. 12:39 p.m. I arrive early. Ebony Beach Club founder, Brick, runs from vendor to vendor, ensuring everyone is ready for the day ahead. He boasts that there's 'not a cloud in sight' — and that everything is aligning for today's 'historic moment.' 1:58 p.m. I never thought I would be able to say I've found a sense of inner peace in the middle of the Santa Monica Pier. The typically chaotic environment is transformed by rhythmic breathing exercises and sound bath frequencies. For a moment, it does feel like I am cooking under the hot summer sun, but still, I couldn't be more at ease. 3:09 p.m. So far, the music selection transcends generations. Anything from Aaliyah to YG and Frankie Beverly fills the beachy air. But after hearing more than one early 2000s Ne-Yo classic, I can't help but wonder what he's up to. Why the lack of 2025 Ne-Yo bangers? 3:40 p.m. The crowd is slowly growing. Most partygoers sport a mix of brightly colored swimwear with denim shorts or matching mini skirts. Others wear graphic tees that commemorate the holiday and show L.A. pride. The most standout looks so far have included bejeweled thongs, color-coordinated snapbacks and sneakers and pleated, baggy jorts. 3:58 p.m. In the flash of a moment, a familiar face glides through the crowded pier. Her grill catches the light and a pair of Labubus hangs from a designer bag. It's none other than R&B royalty Kehlani. A growing swarm of fans start to catch on. I get my chance to say something as she passes. I compliment her latest single and let her continue on her mission to the bar. Cool, casual and of course, no mention of the fact that I was listening to the Kehlani Spotify radio on the whole drive over. 4:45 p.m. Brick halts the music and offers a quick history lesson from the DJ decks. He speaks of the first Ebony Beach Club, started by a man named Silas White in 1957. That year, 2,000 Black people, including Brick's own grandfather, signed up to be members. But the City of Santa Monica had barred it from ever opening. Today's Ebony Beach Club celebration roughly creates space for around 2,000 people to be at the exact same beach and enjoy the party. 'This is the most Black people the Santa Monica pier has seen in a while,' said Brick, who was met with an echoing applause. 'Today, we are Black people who are occupying this space for the first time in a long time.' 5:30 p.m. The emcee says, 'If you're outside the barricade, I'm sorry. If you couldn't get a ticket, I'm sorry.' He addresses the consistent crowd of onlookers who have lingered by the barricades. Some appear to be tourists, but most spectators seem like they were too late to grab a ticket. Nonetheless, they are able to indulge in the sights and sounds, even if it's for only a few minutes. 6:17 p.m. What's an L.A. party without Los Tucanes de Tijuana's 'La Chona?' The norteño anthem gets mixed into T.I. 's 'What You Know.' Unexpected, but somehow serendipitous. 7:25 p.m. I'm starting to seriously question the weight limit on the truck. Though its height is that of a monster truck, it has the feel of a clown car. The truck bed, filled with DJ equipment, is overflowing with people singing along and jumping to the beat. People are perched atop the car, as well as those hanging off its side, in an impressive, partially aerial twerk. I can't even imagine the kind of core strength that it takes. 7:51 p.m. As the party wraps up, Sexyy Red's distinctive vocals overtake the crowd. It feels like one final hurrah. If there's been one consistent feeling that's marked the entire party, it's been an infectious sense of joy. 8:05 p.m. On the way back to the car, people yell 'Happy Juneteenth' out their car windows. My feet are a bit achy and the tops of my shoulders a little sore to the touch, but spirits are still high. Now for the biggest test of patience — braving the traffic of leaving a Santa Monica parking structure. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.

We spent 8 hours at Ebony Beach Club's ‘Juneteenth on the Pier'
We spent 8 hours at Ebony Beach Club's ‘Juneteenth on the Pier'

Los Angeles Times

time7 hours ago

  • Los Angeles Times

We spent 8 hours at Ebony Beach Club's ‘Juneteenth on the Pier'

The Ebony Beach Club's priority is to create a space for Black beachside communities in Los Angeles. So, every year on Juneteenth, they transform a local beach into a full-blown festival, consisting of nonstop DJs, a vivacious dance floor and neighborly vendors. This year, the beach club partnered with Black Lives Matter and took over the Santa Monica Pier. Here's everything that went down. 12:39 p.m. I arrive early. Ebony Beach Club founder, Brick, runs from vendor to vendor, ensuring everyone is ready for the day ahead. He boasts that there's 'not a cloud in sight' — and that everything is aligning for today's 'historic moment.' 1:58 p.m. I never thought I would be able to say I've found a sense of inner peace in the middle of the Santa Monica Pier. The typically chaotic environment is transformed by rhythmic breathing exercises and sound bath frequencies. For a moment, it does feel like I am cooking under the hot summer sun, but still, I couldn't be more at ease. 3:09 p.m. So far, the music selection transcends generations. Anything from Aaliyah to YG and Frankie Beverly fills the beachy air. But after hearing more than one early 2000s Ne-Yo classic, I can't help but wonder what he's up to. Why the lack of 2025 Ne-Yo bangers? 3:40 p.m. The crowd is slowly growing. Most partygoers sport a mix of brightly colored swimwear with denim shorts or matching mini skirts. Others wear graphic tees that commemorate the holiday and show L.A. pride. The most standout looks so far have included bejeweled thongs, color-coordinated snapbacks and sneakers and pleated, baggy jorts. 3:58 p.m. In the flash of a moment, a familiar face glides through the crowded pier. Her grill catches the light and a pair of Labubus hangs from a designer bag. It's none other than R&B royalty Kehlani. A growing swarm of fans start to catch on. I get my chance to say something as she passes. I compliment her latest single and let her continue on her mission to the bar. Cool, casual and of course, no mention of the fact that I was listening to the Kehlani Spotify radio on the whole drive over. 4:45 p.m. Brick halts the music and offers a quick history lesson from the DJ decks. He speaks of the first Ebony Beach Club, started by a man named Silas White in 1957. That year, 2,000 Black people, including Brick's own grandfather, signed up to be members. But the City of Santa Monica had barred it from ever opening. Today's Ebony Beach Club celebration roughly creates space for around 2,000 people to be at the exact same beach and enjoy the party. 'This is the most Black people the Santa Monica pier has seen in a while,' said Brick, who was met with an echoing applause. 'Today, we are Black people who are occupying this space for the first time in a long time.' 5:30 p.m. The emcee says, 'If you're outside the barricade, I'm sorry. If you couldn't get a ticket, I'm sorry.' He addresses the consistent crowd of onlookers who have lingered by the barricades. Some appear to be tourists, but most spectators seem like they were too late to grab a ticket. Nonetheless, they are able to indulge in the sights and sounds, even if it's for only a few minutes. 6:17 p.m. What's an L.A. party without Los Tucanes de Tijuana's 'La Chona?' The norteño anthem gets mixed into T.I. 's 'What You Know.' Unexpected, but somehow serendipitous. 7:25 p.m. I'm starting to seriously question the weight limit on the truck. Though its height is that of a monster truck, it has the feel of a clown car. The truck bed, filled with DJ equipment, is overflowing with people singing along and jumping to the beat. People are perched atop the car, as well as those hanging off its side, in an impressive, partially aerial twerk. I can't even imagine the kind of core strength that it takes. 7:51 p.m. As the party wraps up, Sexyy Red's distinctive vocals overtake the crowd. It feels like one final hurrah. If there's been one consistent feeling that's marked the entire party, it's been an infectious sense of joy. 8:05 p.m. On the way back to the car, people yell 'Happy Juneteenth' out their car windows. My feet are a bit achy and the tops of my shoulders a little sore to the touch, but spirits are still high. Now for the biggest test of patience — braving the traffic of leaving a Santa Monica parking structure.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store