Short Film Launched Female Filmmaking 'Femme Pyre' In Chicago

CHICAGO — Wrapped in a hot pink mini-dress with lips painted to match, director Layne Marie Williams embodied the playful, neon-pastel esthetic that’s become her filmmaking calling card at a private screening of her latest project.

Williams’ short film, "Scutly," bound for the indie film festival circuit, is a mystical tale of intergenerational friendship between the “Pastel Girls,” a trio of quirky teenagers, and an old man they meet while volunteering at a retirement home.

But it’s about more than that, really.

For the 29-year-old writer-director — and members of womanist film collective, Women of the Now, that Williams founded — “Scutly” stands as cinematic evidence that something extraordinary is happening in Chicago’s often overlooked film scene.

Over the last two years, Williams and WOTN producers wrangled together enough in-kind support from local film industry rental houses, graphic design firms and Alex Pissios, the owner of Cinespace Studios, who signed on as an executive producer, to get six-figures worth of production value from a $26,000 budget.

“This project is a huge sign that Chicago knows we have a ton of talent here. And a lot of talent that is overlooked is within our female filmmaker community, and voices from marginalized groups that have a lot of interesting stories to tell here in Chicago but haven’t been heard before,” said Ashton Swinford, an actor and writer who oversaw post-production on Scutly.

“The fact that so many organizations tipped resources to this project is a testament that we support these communities, and are looking for the next voice. It’s time to open up the mindset to give opportunities to people like Layne Marie and other filmmakers who have different perspectives.”

Williams’ own filmmaking point-of-view is deeply rooted in her formidable years as a rebellious Southern debutant educated in Montgomery, Alabama Christian schools.

“I grew up wrestling and tackling my brothers, but also was a little princess, girly girl who insisted on painting my room Pepto-Bismal pink, and had a collection of unicorns,” Williams said.

“I was running around dressed like Barbie with long platinum blond hair, pale pink tank tops, pastel ruffle minis and Barbie-pink lipstick. I was an angry teenager. Everybody wanted to change me. I was very into boys, trying to figure myself out and wanting to make out with everyone. That was so offensive to southern Christian moms who thought that their sons would get in trouble — which they, for sure, did.”

Williams also spent a lot of time at nursing homes visiting her grandparents, who both suffered the symptoms of Alzheimer’s Disease and, in many ways, inspired the main character in Scutly.

“Honestly, those visits were very painful. I was very close with my grandmother. I have these vivid memories of how she looked at me and didn’t know I was there,” she said. “That’s burned into my mind forever.”

Williams often revisited those defining moments of her grandparents’ last days in essays, poems and dramatic monologues while on a meandering artistic journey that landed her in Chicago by way of Philadelphia, where she graduated from University of the Arts, launched her acting career and became a founding member of The Women’s Film Festival, now in its sixth year.

She flirted with the idea of moving to New York City, and maybe even LA, but never took the leap for a variety of reasons. “I woke up one day and started saying aloud, ‘What about Chicago?” Williams said. And the she moved here, sharing an apartment with a stranger she found on Gypsy Housing Chicago and frantically pushed herself to break into the local film scene as actor.

“I started going for roles on “Empire” and “Chicago Fire,” cold-mailing my headshot. I was very focused on getting an agent. So, I got four agents,” she said. “I went to every audition. I remember vividly that I had to rap in an audition for “Empire” and totally bombed.

And later, out of necessity — like a lot of Chicago filmmakers hampered by Hollywood’s predisposition to artists living on either coast — Williams funneled her passion into writing, directing and producing her own projects.

“I went to all the networking parties with so much energy, shaking hands, giving out business cards, meeting filmmakers online and having coffee meetings,” Williams said.

Those days, Williams says, remind her of an iconic line from the movie, “Beetlejuice”: “In case of emergency, draw a door.”

“I think that’s my sensibility,” Williams said. “Whether I was in Alabama, Philly or Chicago, I’ve always been willing to draw my own doors.”

Rise of the 'Femme Pyre'

Women of the Now — the organization’s name at least — was born in Philadelphia. While Williams worked on the documentary “Stone Birds” — which tackled the topic of sexual assault in a “mythological dance-driving narrative." One of the documentary’s interview subjects uttered the phrase, “women of the now.” It struck such a chord with Williams — a woman who refuses to wait her turn to manifest filmmaking dreams — that she tattooed it on her skin. Twice.

In Chicago, Williams almost willed herself a support system of female-identifying filmmakers who became either friends and collaborators who helped inspire a shift in the trajectory of her career to a focus on developing film projects from the ground up as the founder of a group dedicated to educating and empowering women filmmakers.

Together, they adopted the Women of the Now moniker as their brand, and mission statement, despite the objections from, well, men in the local film community.

“There were people who told me to change the name. They said there was no value in starting a women-focused group, or at least that how I internalized what they were saying,” Williams said. “But the women I was working with encouraged me to keep the name. They saw value in it. It was important. And that gave me relief, a sense of being home.”

Aimy Tien, president of the WOTN board of directors, says that from the start palpable energy filled the room every time the female filmmakers got together.

“What we are doing is uplifting people. The voices have always been here. The talent is here. It’s not as if women haven’t always been talented. It was great to see young women trying to create things and change an industry that at time can be toxic,” Tien said.

“We’re ambitious and bold, and we want something to happen we figure out a way to do it even though some people might say it’s impossible.”

In 2017, WOTN hosted its first fundraiser for Williams’ film, “Scutly." Rise of the "Femme Pyre", they called it. That’s where Jill Sandmire, one of “Scutly” top producers, first got involved with the group.

“I saw how the organization had potential to make a difference, and thought why not start a non-profit. I started attending planning meetings and suggested starting a board of directors, writing articles of operation and a business plan,” she said. “And here we are, two years later, and we’ve got a 5013c designation. We’re working on producing other projects, events and doing educational outreach.”

WOTN emerged at an important time for women working in Chicago’s film industry — the dawn of the #MeToo movement. Williams says she was on a commercial set when sexual assault allegations against Hollywood heavyweight Harvey Weinstein first made news.

“Most of the crew consisted of women. I think all of us were feeling a bit frozen in that moment, but thankful that those stories came out,” Williams said. “It seemed so crazy that all of the sudden all of the things women in the film industry have been through was a public discussion.”

The WOTN collective provided a haven for women who have been treated horribly in the male-dominated film industry. Sandmire counts herself among them.

“I’ve been making movies for 14 years in Chicago and been through some of the most horrible experiences imaginable. I’ve been sexually harassed, fired for not sleeping with a producer, touched, grabbed, told I couldn’t do things because of my gender,” she said.

“For me, creating and being part of this collective is incredibly important to set a higher standard to help people comfortable so they don’t feel the way I did starting in this industry.”

WOTN members got involved with a local film scene effort to establish and advocate for Chicago Media Standards, a code of ethics for independent filmmakers that puts people on notice that discrimination, harassment, toxic work environments and subversive treatment won’t be tolerated on Chicago sets.

“We got involved in setting up a structure and standards to create the world we want to work in,” Tien said. “It’s great to chat about that kind of thing over drinks, but if you want to make it happen, you have to do the work. That’s what we’re doing.”

Breaking The Mold

People in Chicago's film community point to anecdotal evidence that suggests, in recent years, there has been a spike in women and female-identifying filmmakers working on film sets. Williams, who also directs and produces music videos and commercials, says she’s often tasked with hiring crew members and when she needed camera operators, production assistants and directors of photography, she often pulls from the growing talent pool connected to Women of the Now.

“It felt like I became that person overnight,” she said. “And since then I’ve hired thousands of women to work on projects in Chicago.”

Nationally, though, women and minorities remain severely underrepresented in the film industry, according to the University of California Los Angeles Hollywood Diversity Report. Fueled by the success of female-directed films including “Wonder Woman” the number of women directors nearly doubled in 2017. Still, women accounted for only 12.6 percent of directors on that year’s top-grossing films, and was considered a one-time statistical “blip,” according to the report published this year by the UCLA College Division of Social Science.

“We so rarely see films that have even 50 percent crews and casts of women,” Tien said. “Break that down to what that means on a set. Does it mean you have one female writer in the room? One woman producer on set? Or are all the women crew in wardrobe and hair and make-up because the vanities are what women are traditionally what women are thought to only be good enough for.”

WOTN producers bucked that national trend when staffing “Scutly.” About 80-percent of the cast and crew consisted of women and gender-expansive people.

“That ‘Scutly’ happened with the crew that it happened with is testament that you can run a production (without a male majority),” Tien said. “There’s people who might say, “I don’t know who to hire because I don’t know a lot of women.” Well, broaden your search, because there’s a lot of women capable of the work. A set like “Scutly” demonstrates that.”

Williams’ short film — from its women-centric production team to its non-traditional storytelling narrative — fits within a chorus of outsider voices emerging from Chicago’s film scene, including Emmy Award winner Lena Waithe’s “The Chi,” and Showtime’s forthcoming queer drama, “Work In Progress,” co-created by Chicago improv mainstay Abby McEnany.

“Layne Marie and other unique filmmakers are producing the kind of stories that need to be added to the landscape in the storytelling world,” said Swinford, an executive producer at Chicago-based Paragram Productions.

“These storytellers that don’t fit the traditional mold are what will put Chicago on the map. We’re not trying to fit a formula anymore. We’re trying to break out from that.”

Big-time network TV shows filmed here, including Showtime’s “Shameless,” “Empire” on Fox and Dick Wolf’s triad of Chicago-centric series that dominate NBC’s prime-time lineup on Wednesday nights, get loads of credit for bolstering the local film scene.

Angie Gaffney, co-founder of Stage 18, a film and media incubator located at Cinespace, says projects like “Scutly” and groups like WOTN are just as vital, and have supported by local media investors, production houses and film-industry vendors because Chicago’s film community can’t survive on network shows alone.

“We support artist like Layne Marie so they know they can express a creative vision they want regardless of the genre and they can be supported,” she said. “Chicago isn’t just for the big dogs. I know I want to live in a city that offers diversity and different voices and content with so much support for everyone to express themselves creatively.”

“Just Getting Started”

On a recent rainy Wednesday, Williams sipped a smoothie in her cozy West Town coach house, where the scent of burnt sage lingered above clean clothes stacked on furniture.

For Williams, filmmaking can be like laundry. There’s always more to do. Sometimes, too much. These days, that’s especially true. Williams is in the middle of a frantic push to submit “Scutly” for film festival consideration, prepping her next project and considering an apartment upgrade.

“I’ve lived here three years,” she said of the bohemian apartment where trinkets adorn window sills framing an alley view. “I’ve outgrown this place. Matured, you know.”

Making films in Chicago has been a grand adventure that changed her in ways she never expected.

“When I started, I made films while working as a barista at a kid-focused coffeehouse. I’ve worked in catering, all the side jobs. Now, I’m fully working in film. This work is hard. It’s not simple and formulaic. It’s an evolution. It’s having persistence and gratitude. Growing and adapting. It's a lot of responsibility because I know I have a lot of eyes on me, and I'm mindful of how I behave. Sometimes I mess up and disappoint people. I cry. I cry, a lot,” she said.

“But I’m not going to fight to be seen and heard. I’m interested in trying to provide solutions. And that solution is to have more women in power in the film industry, and creating more safe spaces so we can do the work that we want to do.”

Now, maybe more than ever, Williams says she’s ready for whatever that comes next.

“I really feel grounded and able to look back at all the work that I’ve done on myself, and my projects and collaborations with other humans with pride,” she said.

"The work reveals itself as a new beginning. And I feel like I’m just getting started.”

Mark Konkol, recipient of the 2011 Pulitzer Prize for local reporting and Emmy-nominated producer, was a producer, writer and narrator for the "Chicagoland" docu-series on CNN. He was a consulting producer on the Showtime documentary, "16 Shots."