JENNA BASS This rule-breaking filmmaker on shaking up South African storytelling

Jenna Bass

When making fi lms in South Africa, director Jenna Bass believes it’s impossible to escape politics. Whether a fi lm sets out to make a political statement or not, it’s inevitably a mirror of a society that’s inseparable from a legacy of political turmoil. “I’d rather confront than consciously ignore it,” she says. “Basically, I take entertainment very seriously.”

In her film High Fantasy (2017) identity politics gets under the skin of four young South African friends of different genders and races who wake up in each other’s bodies on a camping trip. The metamorphic event causes the rage and guilt that’s bubbling in the pot at the end of the ‘rainbow nation’ to erupt into broad daylight. In the tradition of the body-swap film, after spending time in each other’s shoes, the characters gain perspective and mutual empathy. But in a twist on the genre the characters have no such happy ending, and local audiences are left with the question: is it possible for us to heal?

Bass wrangles originality into her storytelling, while also challenging how stories can be told. The majority of High Fantasy was shot on an iPhone 7 by the cast themselves. The decision was born out of necessity — she didn’t have the budget for highend camera equipment — but during filming, Bass realised her millennial characters would naturally be documenting themselves and each other anyway: if you wake up in the wrong body tomorrow, surely the first thing you’d do is take a selfie? The handheld footage is broken with sweeping aerial shots of the farm where the film is based, providing added tension through a scenic reminder of the monumental role land plays in the past and present politics of South Africa.

Another way Bass flips the script is by embracing improvisation. In her debut feature, Love The One You Love (2014), the dialogue is all improvised by the actors; a unique challenge in the editing suite when each take is different from the next. And for High Fantasy, she worked together with the cast to workshop their characters until each was a hybrid of her initial vision and the way the actors saw the people they would embody. “I have a lot of respect for the art of screenwriting and enjoy writing scripts,” she says. “At the same time, I’ve been in the situation so many times where it has felt wrong to put words into other people’s mouths. Most often the cast have a huge amount to contribute that’s a lot better than anything I could write or imagine.” Her approach to directing is to guide the project to completion, while the cast and crew are not only acknowledged but also encouraged and nurtured. “I think the director is important in the way that the host of a party is important. Sure, they decided to have this party, and chose who to invite, but eventually it shouldn’t be about them and their ego anymore. You just want people to enjoy themselves and have good memories afterwards. Crying or throwing tantrums at your own party because not everything is going your way isn’t how you get people to have a better time.”

Focusing on collaboration and mutual respect is an approach that could be developed and taught to a new generation of fi lmmakers, which is something Bass already has in the works with friend and colleague Lungiswa Joe. Together they are devising an alternative fi lm school.

Bass’s latest film, Flatland (2019), takes aim at the macho genre of the Western. Set in the desert landscape of the Karoo in South Africa, the story follows three complex women — a lovelorn cop, a pregnant teen and a young bride — as they struggle to free themselves from their circumstances. “I realised that though I loved Westerns as much as my father did, I couldn’t identify with them. I knew Clint Eastwood would survive, but what about me? What would I do, shot at by enemies?,” Bass says. “I wanted adventure for myself and for others who were ignored by these films. Women have just as much right to be in the saddle, and I was sure that female audiences had the same desires I had, as well as the spirit to act them out.” Through the risks she takes in her story-telling Bass’s foremost goal is to surprise, which she believes should be the most important goal of art. “Surprise is the most powerful part of entertainment,” she says. “Surprises are essential in a world where we take so much for granted and our assumptions easily turn to prejudices about the way things are. Surprise disrupts that.”

Film stills (Clockwise from top left) HIGH FANTASY, FLATLAND, HIGH FANTASY, FLATLAND, FLATLAND.