Richard Senecal. Just say this name to Haitian movie fans, and you get an instant smile, and in the next second, mentions of the movie Cousines and the fan favorite I Love You Anne.

A Richard Senecal film to most movie fans means a work of quality, marked with professionalism, and an especially good story. Senecal, who begun his career as a television commercial helmer, and as the name behind a great many Haitian music videos in the early and mid-1990s, has the visual arts in his blood, having had a grandfather who was one of Haiti’s first professional photographers.

After serving as the Director of Photography for a couple of film projects, including Reginald Lubin’s film La Peur D’Aimer, Senecal sought to venture out on his own. The project: 2002’s Barikad, a simple story on the surface—that of a young girl sent to work miles from her home in the household of a wealthy family in Port-au-Prince—opened up new possibilities for Haitian cinema. The film, produced by Sénécal’s Imagine Haiti film company, launched the careers of so many young Haitian actors and actresses, many of whom who have sustained their popularity nearly a decade after the film’s release.

The film’s cinematography and apt use of a musical score, in addition to its easily relatable plot of class inequity touched the inner nerves of film audiences. Some cited the film along with a plethora of other Haitian movies that were released around that time, and following Barikad, as a sort of renaissance for Haitian films. The comedy I Love You Anne, Senecal’s next film, was cited as the biggest Haitian film blockbuster, as it seemed to be a hit that took not merely Haiti by storm, but swept the entire movie-buying Haitian diaspora off its feet. The movie’s lines became catch phrases, and catapulted comedian Daniel “Tonton Bicha” Fils-Aimé and singer-turned actor Joe Zenny Jr, in a new category of stardom.

With Cousines, the storyline was much more serious, and this time around Senecal recruited Geneus, the teenage actress now 20-something who had made her screen debut in Barikad, and Hollywood heavyweight Jimmy Jean-Louis came on board, along with the late veteran actor Roland Dorfeuille and fresh faces like Jerry Lentz Rocher and Elizabeth Soledad Jean (all delivering widely-praised performances). The film got a glowing review from Variety, and was screened at the Montreal World Film Festival, the Fort Lauderdale Film Festival and received awards at the Brooklyn International Film Festival.

Since Cousines, Senecal has shot the yet-to-be-released I Love You Anne sequel, and has done several documentaries, but is predictably revisiting the fictional form soon.

Q&A

You helped start the trend of working with virtually unknowns in the Haitian film industry. We would appreciate it if you would comment on this. The advantage and the disadvantage? Or any other thoughts.

I don’t know if I started a trend. Truth is, at the time I entered that market—around 2001—the only known actors were the ones playing kind of “cliché” characters. I can remember Raynald Delerme, Jean-Gardy Bien-Aimé or Jesifra. They were not people that I would use for an ordinary drama such as Barikad —the first movie I directed. They were not “neutral” enough—or if you prefer—they were too strongly identified to the characters they used to play. Furthermore, most of them were also the directors of their own movies and it remains to be seen if they actually can be directed by somebody else. So I ended up having no choice but to make auditions. From that emerged actors such as Fabienne Colas—who was actually my second-choice for the role—Gessica Généus—16 years old at the time—Handy Tibert and Haendel Dorfeuille. I find it more interesting to work with newcomers. It’s very easy to teach a motivated person. It’s much harder to manage a person who already learned the wrong way.

What actors would you jump at the chance to work with?

There are two manners I select an actor. First, I can select the person that I think will fit the role best. This can only be done through auditions or by selecting someone I worked with in the past and who I’m confident can play the character. The other option is to write the entire script knowing well before who’s gonna play the character. This was the case of Cousines. I wrote it knowing well in advance that Gessica Généus would play the main character. Therefore I cannot say that I would jump on an actor. This is I think more a producer than a director’s way of thinking. And although I do both at times I think I have more a director’s mind.

What elements make a great movie?

There is no formula for a great movie, or for good art in general. It is all about perception and when you think about perception you see a donor—the movie maker—and a receiver, the audience. In between, there is the medium, the film. The perception of a movie being great depends of all parameters. And the movie maker is only one third of the equation. I never try to do a great movie. I just try to say something. And I think the more you go deep into your saying, the more sincere you are, the more you have a chance to capture the audience.

What advice would you give a first-time director?

I would say, “Do short films first”. There is this unfortunate tendency in our market that any aspiring or “to-be” director wants to make a feature-length film. This is total nonsense. It’s like you want to read a book without even learning your alphabet. A good recipe for disaster. And it’s probably a major cause of the current disaster in the so-called Haitian filmmaking industry—although I don’t like the expression.

In addition to directing Cousines, you also wrote the script. What inspired it?

So far all my scripts have been inspired by personal observations and experiences. Cousines is not very different. I don’t understand the reflection behind movies such as VIP or La Rebelle within our reality. We are a country so rich with original stories that I really don’t see the need to borrow a vision which is far from being ours. It’s a kind of Bovarism that in my sense leads to a waste of resources in an already under-funded industry.

What will it take for the Haitian movie industry to get back on its feet?
Be professional and be original. We must clean the house. There have been too many bad movies the last few years. We must stop awarding fake prizes to fake directors making fake movies. No wonder that the industry is now so fake! People must understand that moviemaking is a profession and an art. So if you’re here to show-off, you should not be awarded for it. Because this poison is killing the industry. Of course there are also technical and distribution problems. There is an obvious lack of funding. But to any technical problem there’s always a technical answer. Creativity is the key. Creativity in the moviemaking process and creativity in the distribution process. There is a lot of attention on Haiti internationally. This is something we must learn to capitalize on.

In addition to helming your own projects, you have also directed projects for the firm Communication Plus. What’s the difference between when you’re overseeing your own project and being commissioned to do a project? Do you feel restrained when you are directing projects not your own?

It is a paradox that my most successful work—I Love you Anne—was one I was commissioned to do. I can do it, I did it a couple of times but in those situations I prefer not to be the artistic director. I think any good director likes his freedom. A film should be the expression of a personal inspiration. Not the expression of a committee or a board’s inspiration—or lack-of. But when you’re spending other people’s money they want to be sure that you’re going the right direction so that they get their investment back and more. So at the end, it’s all about compromise. But the result leads to very different types of movie I think.

Why do you think I Love You Anne is so popular?

In a sense, I Love you Anne made Bicha…But Bicha made I Love you Anne. I think the character goes deep to resonate some cultural harmonies that we might have thought were lost in our evolution from a “lakou-centered” [family-centered] to an urban society. It is the quintessence of Haitian movie, probably lacking the universality of an international-targeted one. But in the context of Haitian audience it works 2000%.

What do you feel distinguishes you from other directors?
I don’t like the comparison game and I won’t play it. I feel distinguished enough by the movies I made. You can give the same script to two different directors and you will probably end up with very different movies. It is up to critics to characterize and categorize.

Most people know you as a feature film movie director, yet you have dozens of documentaries and short films under your belt. Can you please discuss these documentaries and shorts?

The bulk of my work is actually commercial work, mostly TV commercials and corporate documentaries. It is only recently that I started taking a full leave from commercial work to do my own projects. These have included so far fiction films but also documentaries and short films. I have found the web to be an excellent medium to reach an audience. And the web is better suited for short-length products. And I find myself doing more and more of these films.

Movie-wise, what should we expect from you in the near future? What are you working on, etc.

I have many ongoing projects. None of them is feature length feature film project I’m afraid. I’m currently finishing a documentary about Haitian students in the Dominican Republic. This has taken so far two years of my life and we still have a few more months to go. As I mentioned earlier all my spare time goes to the production of shorter fiction films or documentaries. I may consider starting the production of a “real” movie by mid-2012.

Do you think that the earthquake that Haiti experienced in 2010 will change the themes of Haitian movies to come?

The earthquake did change our lives and our perception of this world. This will certainly change our way of making films. This does not mean that all movies will be related to the earthquake event. Myself, I am more aware now than I was before of the triviality of life. So I’m willing to take more risks, to go beyond my own previous self. The only time you can manage is the present. the past is already gone and the future is yet to come. So put all your energy where you can influence. Yesterday is over and there might be no tomorrow.

Haitian movie fans have cited you as one of the best movie directors. Your thoughts on this.
We are still at an embryonic state of moviemaking. So being one of the best is not such an accomplishment. Not that I’m not proud to be an inspiration to many young directors. But I wish strongly that the best is yet to come. I wish there is more true challenge in the future because there is no progress without some kind of fair competition.

You’ve worked with a vast array of Haitian talent: Sandra Lobir, Reginald Lubin, Gessica Geneus, Handy Tibert, Nice Simon, Jimmy Jean-Louis, Roland Dorfeuille, Joe Zenny Jr, Blondedy Ferdinand, Fabienne Colas. Can you please share your thoughts on them as people, and on their abilities as performers?

Again I do not play the comparison game. This would be disrespectful to these people who, when I work with them put all their heart and body in the process. There is no such thing as a bad actor. But there are too many bad directors.

It’s been a minute since your first full-length feature film Barikad, and obviously you have grown a lot artistically since then. If you were to do this movie now, what would you do differently?

I never look back and say I would have done better or worst. By essence, a movie is prisoner of its time. Nothing can change that. Redo it today and it will be different. Not necessarily better. What you see as immaturity might have brought to the movie a touch of spontaneity and sincerity that more experience could have totally ruined. Thousands of people have enjoyed it the way it is and dozens still enjoy it every day. Nothing is perfect and sometimes this desirable sense of imperfectness is very hard to implement in highly finished work.

If you have a deep love for the theatre—and especially Black Theatre—you most likely have heard of the award-winning, Detroit-born playwright Dominique Morisseau. If you haven’t, you will. The Edward M. Kennedy Prize winner (she won a year ago for her play “Detroit ’67”), is one of the most talked-about playwrights in the nation. She once told the entertainment personality LA Williams, that as a kid, she was a dancing fanatic. Now she makes words dance on paper, on stage and—most recently—on film.

K. St. Fort: As someone of Haitian descent born in Michigan, do you feel that you’re less connected to the culture of your parents and grandparents, since you’re not from a place like New York, Boston, or Spring Valley? A sociologist would probably say that children and grandchildren of immigrants from those places are more connected to the culture of their parents and grandparents.

Although there is definitely a Haitian Network of Detroit that is vibrant and alive, Haitians are for certain a very small population in Detroit. And I pretty much grew up as a Detroit girl, hearing no Kreyòl spoken but often hearing my father speak French among my uncle and aunts and grandmother. He taught me some French early in childhood but as it wasn’t my mother’s native tongue, nor did she speak it, rarely did I ever speak it as well. So yes, I felt (and sometimes still do) more disconnected to the culture. However, it is strongly in my heart and spirit to represent the Haitian ancestry that I have, regardless OF it not being in my cultural upbringing. It is in my blood and that keeps me feeling mightily connected.

K. St. Fort: I think that a lot of times when people think of creativity, they think LA, they think New York, they might even think Miami, or Portland, but rarely Detroit.

Actually, if they aren’t thinking of Detroit with creativity, they should. Detroit has always been a hotbed of the arts in music, visual art and theatre. While it doesn’t have a thriving performing arts economy, there is an abundance of creative artists living in the city and many of them were people that I grew up around and studied underneath. We aren’t just Motown. We are jazz, hip-hop, blues, electronic music. We are dance, painting, poetry. And we are theatre. It’s all very alive in Detroit and it just needs funding to become a full signature of the city.

K. St. Fort: You graduated from the University of Michigan. Looking back now, would you still have gone to college after high school, or would you have tried to go directly in the theater, as a stagehand or another entry level position to get in the industry?

Though I experienced a great battle with systemic and institutional racism while I was at Michigan, I would not trade my time [in college] for anything. I learned to be quite self-sufficient and resourceful at U of M. I found a community of students of color who were my backbone and who helped to support my art. I became a playwright as well as an actress at Michigan. And most importantly, I found my initial roots of activism there. It is not necessarily required for artists to go to college (or anyone really) in order to learn a trade like acting. But there are things I learned in college that would’ve taken me ten times longer to learn had I not gotten my degree in Theatre.

K. St. Fort: Have you visited Haiti?

I just visited Haiti last year—2014—for the first time since I was a baby. It was strange to feel so connected and yet so culture-shocked by my own people. The poverty in Haiti was deeply traumatizing for me. But the land was a gift and a dream to witness. My biggest discovery was that the people are not so easily fooled by “outsiders” nor are they trusting of Americans. There is a brutal relationship between Haiti and the developed world that has turned its back on Haitian people and I can feel it like electricity when I’m there. I was moved beyond words from my experiences. I ate very well, and felt a deep spiritual connection to the people that I was able to talk to and break bread with. I plan to write about Haiti as I dig deeper into my culture, even learning Kreyòl from a Haitian language instructor and friend. My impressions are still being discovered. It was just frankly overwhelming—and beautiful.

This concludes Part 1 of the interview with Dominique Morriseau. Be sure to check out for Part 2.

[Photo Credit: Joseph Moran (of playwright in red shirt). Monique Carboni (with green earrings) ].

CLICK HERE TO VISIT DOMINIQUE MORISSEAU’S WEBSITE.

Director Richard Senecal is the mind behind a great number of Haiti’s films. You and your grandmother have probably sat down and watched many of his films. Does I Love You Anne sound familiar? How about Barikad? Or Cousines?

Here he is discussing his latest work El Violinista (The Violinist), his craft as a filmmaker, and sharing his thoughts on the Haiti’s movie industry.

Kreyolicious: How did the idea for El Violinista come about?
This documentary is the result or combination of two other projects. First I was working on a documentary about Haitian students in the Dominican Republic. I had completed some shooting and many interviews, but I was not satisfied with the result. It was another typical Haitian documentary with a lot of talk and very few images. Film is not radio, and I wanted more than talking heads. The second project was about an old Dominican violinist teacher. There, I had more images, but I could not catch my main character story because he was too shy to share it confidently with me. But he happened to have an Haitian violin student who was also attending university in Santiago. At some point, I started to focus on him instead and I would end up follow his evolution during about four years. The final film is about fulfilling an apparently lost dream through hard work and perseverance. It is also about a young Haitian confronting the complex challenges of living in the Dominican Republic and trying to integrate Dominican society. This is a very personal project. The film about Haitian students was originally funded by a small grant from FOKAL and some contributors on Indiegogo, but total production time was scheduled to be only one year. I ended up working five years on this film and financing most of it through my own companies Imagine Haiti and Imagine Dominicana. I think it’s really worth it.

Kreyolicious: Do you have a passion for classical music?
I like all kinds of music. I mean real music, not noise. I had an early contact with classical music since it’s the music my mother used to listen at home when I was a kid. I was also lucky enough to have some music classes in high school. So at the end, I’m as familiar with classical music as with other music genres such as jazz, blues, rock, pop and many flavors of world music. I think it’s a real asset. Nowadays, too many of our so-called musicians lack a minimum true musical background and education. Thus the poverty of our contemporary music.

Kreyolicious: Do you feel less in control when you’re doing a documentary as opposed to a feature film?
It is traditionally perceived that fiction films and documentaries are two different animals. Difference is even more marked in our young cinema tradition where documentaries are usually associated with long and multiple interviews. There have been recently some efforts by some of my Haitian colleagues to blur the borders between both genres, but it has been mostly done by doing [reenactments] with actors or, at least in one case, animation. The challenge I gave myself was to even further blur the lines while staying true to the actual events and situations. So yes, there’s a lot of unpredictability during the shooting phase. The actual control is achieved at the editing stage. Final product form is closer to a feature film while staying 100% a true documentary without any fictionalization.

Kreyolicious: What’s the most inspiring documentary—or documentaries have you seen? What was inspirational about them?
I have seen a lot of documentaries and I’ve been inspired by so many that any attempt to list them would be futile. And I’m talking real documentaries, not TV [reporting segments]. Because there is a difference and people easily mistake one for another. Real documentaries have a point-of-view. They do not pretend to objectivity—which is the essence of journalism.

Photo Credit: Mondy Bertheth

Kreyolicious: What are your thoughts on the Haitian movie industry?
I think it is at a turning point–like everything else in our society. The only options are to die or to grow. It would be foolish to keep doing the same kind of films we used to do a few years ago. I’m afraid some of us filmmakers fail to fully understand that. The time when anyone with very little filmmaking background or culture could wake up, catch any consumer camera and cook a “movie” is over. We must go a full step further and it will be through education, professionalism and team work that we will achieve that.

Kreyolicious: If a film school student were to ask you about how to best prepare to film a documentary, what would you say to him or her?
First, watch and study documentaries, real ones, many of them. Second, choose your point-of-view. Third and maybe the most challenging, immerse yourself. Your presence as a filmmaker will necessarily distort the reality you’re trying to catch. You can either try to minimize it or turn it to your advantage. And, do not forget, filmmaking is about visuals and sound. Images and ambiances can be stronger than dialogues or interviews. Last but not least, filming is the control of time though patience and clever choices.

Kreyolicious: What’s next for you?
More films I hope. Nothing clearly specific at this time, but that may change at any moment. Regarding The Violinist, we’re going to try to reach a more international audience. We understand this is not necessarily a film for the general Haitian public. The original version is in Spanish and there are two subtitled versions in French and English. The choice is deliberate at a time when distributing or screening a film in Haiti is almost an impossible task. And yes, we need to open new doors, explore different avenues. There’s a world outside eager to hear and enjoy our so many untold stories.

CLICK HERE TO VISIT THE DIRECTOR’S YOUTUBE CHANNEL

Film director Mario Delatour has had a career as diverse as his upbringing. He was born in Venezuela to Haitian parents. He grew up in Brooklyn, New York, and currently lives in Haiti. His films are focused on different aspects of Haiti’s history: immigration from the Middle East to Haiti in the 19th Century, the history of Haiti’s banking system, and even the invasion of Haiti by three in the late 1950s. Last year, he chose to cover more than two centuries of history of Haiti’s forests in Where Did The Trees Go? The project will screen at the Haiti Cultural Exchange Haiti Film Fest on May 13 at the Maroney Theater at Saint Francis College in New York.

Kreyolicious: What would you say is the favorite film that you have produced?
Well, every film is different. It is sort of like parents who deal with their children. Every child requires different sets of challenges. The subject matters are different. The economic means are sometimes more precarious. The time constraints are not always the same, and the people you collaborate with can make or break a film. [It] makes a huge difference if the right chemistry is not there!

All of my films are a work of labor, and I cherish the experiences that each one allowed me. When you make films ,you go through a lot. You meet a lot of challenges. You face tough decisions. I am glad that I was able rise up to the occasion and I am also thankful that the films exist today. I will leave a body of work for Haiti.

Kreyolicious: As you were going down in your journey as a filmmaker, what was the best advice you were given?
To be persistent. Stick to your guns, and follow your dreams. And I must say, I did.

Kreyolicious: And now as a seasoned filmmaker, what advice would you like to give out to those aspire to get to your level?
The same.

Above: Director Mario Delatour at a screening of one of his previous films Storming Papa Doc. Photo Via: AyitiImages

Kreyolicious: What’s your view on the future of Haitian filmmaking?
If the old pass the baton to the younger generation, and [if] the young “upcoming Turks” are willing to listen, then the future of filmmaking in Haiti looks bright.

Having said [this], filmmakers—whether young or old—cannot possibly make films if they can’t raise money. This has always been The $64,000 question! Where to do you get the money to make films? Film has always been—and remains—a very expensive medium.

Haiti should look to its neighbor the Dominican Republic, and see what they have done in terms of creating a state fund for filmmakers. Also, how the Dominican filmmakers have grouped themselves to create a solid Filmmaker’s Association that in turn has acted as a powerful lobby to enact laws in their legislature to promote filmmaking in their country. The result has been tremendous for them. They do over 20 feature films of their own every year and they host a cavalcade of foreign film companies who come to film in the Dominican Republic, and they get tax breaks.

On our side of the island, let us not reinvent the wheel. Let us get to work and do the same.

[Main Photo: via AyitiImages]

Director Mario Delatour’s film will screen on May 13 at 2 p.m. at St. Francis College | Maroney Theater |180 Remsen Street | Brooklyn, NY 11201 |

CLICK HERE to visit the Haiti Cultural Exchange website and learn more about director Mario Delatour and the other filmmakers taking part in Haiti Cultural Exchange Haiti Film Fest!