Hannah Welever is a queer filmmaker based in New York, but her roots are Midwestern. In her newest short, “Soirée,” Welever creatively holds space for women’s bodies, and how often they are misunderstood. After an unfortunately awkward hookup gone awry, Reed (Naomi Walley) takes a literal trip inside her body, and meets the personification of her cervix. What ensues is a comedic yet thought provoking conversation around Naomi’s own sexuality, and what she needs to get herself out of her funk. Welever’s short is delightfully clever, with warm, colorful aesthetics to help drive the themes home.
What led you to making this project?
I went through a weird breakup, as people do. Then I also had an abnormal pap which was really uncomfortable, the whole process of it. Then after they were like, “Yeah, we’re worried about you, you have to do this other procedure.” Everything was fine, but then I kind of went down this rabbit hole of “Wow, that procedure was really painful. And now I feel uncomfortable in my body. And also I feel rejected by this girl.” I just felt sort of like a mind-body disconnection a little bit.
I remember going to the Ann Arbor Film Festival, which is an experimental film festival. It’s very fun and cool. I was on my friend’s couch and I was like, “What if I was able to talk to my body? What would they say back to me?”
It just kind of came from feeling a little dysphoric and then making something that was about not only feeling just bad about yourself and bad in your body, but getting to know yourself. I wanted it to feel a little cheesy and it to be a little “pick yourself up” kind of thing. I think a lot of us are really hard on ourselves and I wanted it to be about feeling like your body loves you. You’re worthy of care.
With the lack of representation around this subject matter, is that something that empowered you to make this film?
My friend Nicole is a sex therapist, and I feel like we had a lot of calls about this sort of procedure that I had done, which is really painful. What’s interesting to me is: The short isn’t about that experience. I was trying to make something polished and nice and a cool short coming off of this experience I had. Nicole [said] there’s a whole sort of underground community of women and nonbinary people who talk about women’s health in general; where when we say something’s painful and people don’t listen, and how they don’t believe us. But then it goes into something more specific where it’s, like, this procedure — I was in pain for months. The doctor was just like, yeah … Then you’re kind of like, wait, is this really how it is? And talking with her was really helpful because we did kind of go down this rabbit hole. That was really interesting to me because I feel more recently people are more open to talking about it. I feel like women’s health needs to be a bit more genderless. We’re not really talking to each other about certain things that I feel would be helpful.
I think helping start a conversation at all feels like a good due diligence thing for me as a filmmaker. I heard about PCOS a few years ago and so many people, my friends and loved ones, have that and deal with it and learn more about that and how to talk to people. Being informed in general about our own bodies, I think, is helpful and insightful and gives more context to how we live in certain patterns physically and emotionally. This was a cool way to sort of open up conversations.
The process of getting this film made seemed to be a long one. Would you like to talk more about the process of making the film?
I think what’s fun about being a filmmaker — and also horrible — is that once you have a vision of something in your head, you don’t really want to make the piece until you can fulfill that prophecy because that’s the satisfying part. I really made this film for myself because I feel like so many times you come off of a shoot or something, like “I really want to make this thing, oh, I’m writing this thing.” And it’s like, no, I’ve had this image in my head of this girl in a set that’s built like a cervix and I want to make that thing. So I feel like even if no one could watch this movie or a few people could watch it — I still feel really satisfied that I was brave enough; not brave like this story I’m telling, but brave personally — to take time to make some of my own work.
I am a crazy workaholic, and I’m always working on a million things that are not my own. It felt really nice and honestly kind of hard for me to make something a little personal. But also it’s such a commitment financially and [so is] the time and the process. I wrapped production on a TV show and I really felt this excitement and I was like, I think I have to do it right now.
I must have written it like 2016, 2015 — I wrote it years ago. I think I couldn’t really let myself focus on my next creative idea until accomplishing this one and seeing what I was able to do. As a director, that’s how you learn. I do feel like some of the most prolific directors are people who are maybe in their 40s and have been doing it their whole life. And that’s because every time you do something, you are refining the skill and learning more about your strengths and weaknesses. I really value that because I live and breathe making movies, and they’re mostly not my own pieces. So any time [that] I can sort of be humbled or understand the process a bit deeper I think is really valuable. That’s how I feel about the short. I’m happy that it’s done and buttoned up after so many years. It’s a long process, of course, but no matter if you’re a successful filmmaker and people know your name, the process is still long.
Speaking more about the making of the film, I really loved the editing of the little montage when she’s going into the cervix. Can you talk about how you came up with that idea and the process of editing that?
That sequence originally was scripted as a bunch of floating heads of Reed’s character talking to herself negatively. And it was playing pretty funny. Then when we were editing it was like, what if it was more about things you’re seeing in your day to day life that could be sexualized or about sex loosely? My editor, Jess [Weber], who’s amazing — she pulled a bunch of those [shots] and was like, what about this? I think this adds to this sort of weird acid trip that the movie kind of is. That’s another cool part of the process itself: Things sometimes take a turn in post that end up being a better fit or more succinct with timing and what you’re trying to communicate on screen. But I think my favorite one is the Queen Latifah one, because that’s funny to me.
When she goes into the cervix, that is very distinct. How did the production design of that come together?
Sophie [Weir] was an incredible production designer. That was a really strong vision I had. Sophie did such a good job of bringing it to life. What I always said to her is I want it to feel like a mid-century modern, sparse living room that’s symmetrical and warm and cozy, but also kind of eerie. I was really into the play No Exit. The idea of being in a room with other people, you know, “hell is other people.” It’s a beautiful room, but something feels off. That’s sort of what we were going for there.
I feel like so much of being a filmmaker, being a director, is communicating your vision clearly to other people, and if you work with the right people you get amazing results. Working with Sophie was amazing because she just understood what we were doing. Understood the budget constraints. It helped too [that] it was our only location, so we could spend a bit more time sitting in it and planning it out. I think even the way the lighting comes through is so beautiful and working with our DP who’s also my good friend. I just brought really creative, smart friends of mine together. I feel like they crushed it. They did such a good job.
I know that you work a lot as a cinematographer as well. How did that kind of feed into your direction on this film?
I think the big thing for me is trust. I’m a queer woman. If you don’t work with people who respect you, then it’s harder to feel comfortable working with them or sharing ideas. I always tried to work with people that I know or who’ve worked with me before. Creating an environment where I can be more creatively open is just generally better. If I feel intimidated at all, then I’m not going to speak up. If I have a cool idea, I’m not going to act on it.
As a DP, it’s surrounding myself with a community of people that I can collaborate with — that’s super important to me. I want other artists to shine in the things that I make. I think Taylor [Russ] and I had worked together a lot and I really trust his vision. I think there was one time I remember him being “I don’t know if we need to do it like this.” And I was like, “No, really, we should do it like that.” And it was coming from a DP perspective, not a director perspective. Because I have that as a background, I think people are also a bit more willing to listen to me.
We pulled a lot of great references. The lighting of it all I thought turned out beautiful and the warmth was super important. Also the color process — we worked with a colorist for a long time about nailing down what that feeling would be in the cervix. I think the best part about having a background in another department is I have the language to communicate with everyone. So it doesn’t feel frustrating to talk to a DP. It was a great process and I love working with Taylor, and I’m sure we’ll do it again very soon.
Your two leads are so charismatic and play off of each other so well. I just loved their banter back and forth. What was the casting process like?
Torian Miller is actually an actor in his own right. He went to Columbia College. We didn’t know each other at school, but he really liked the script and wanted to cast for us. And Charlie Barnett’s (portrays Avery) a friend. Naomi (portrays Reed) was his good friend from childhood, and her audition was so fun. We just had to cast her. But Ryan Asher (portrays Sarah) lived in Chicago for a while, did Second City, and I’ve just been obsessed with her from afar. Her TikTok to this day is like my favorite thing. And she’s so brilliant and off the beaten path in some ways. But as a teacher and an artist and kind of a radical in her own right too. Her audition I thought was so fun and I was just itching to work with her and get to know her better.
Your main characters are queer. As a queer filmmaker, was that something important for you to include, especially as it relates to the wider themes of the film?
I feel like this piece specifically feels like a part of me, but it’s not totally my own experience in the world. I think I really wanted to hit the nail on the head with the idea that when you’re feeling upset, you make choices that you wouldn’t normally make. So the idea of hooking up with someone that you don’t really like because you’re just sad, which I feel like we’ve all kind of been there. What’s funny is I originally wrote this for queer people or female identifying people, but a queer woman would never comment on another woman’s body like that. So I was like, “Oh, maybe I make it a cis man that is kind of a little queer who just puts his foot in his mouth because he doesn’t know any better.” I kind of like that because I love making stuff to kind of make men look like fools, which I feel like that’s also queer coded.
I would say, in anything I do, it’s good to have some queer perspective, because that is my perspective. I think I actually need to be better about being more forthright about queerness in my own art. I think that’s something I’m kind of working on now because coming from the Midwest and coming out and developing my own life as a queer person and a queer filmmaker, I think I’m still a little timid in my art. Which is just so interesting because I probably felt timid in my own life when I’m writing this. So that’s going to change. When you live in New York a little, you get a little hardened and things are a little bit more in your face. But that is something I’ve been thinking about a lot. How to make something a bit more raw and real that reflects my own experience versus making something that feels like what I want people to see or know about me.
Everything that we all make as creatives is just sort of a bridge to the next thing. I think the more you’re willing to be vulnerable and grow with each piece, they’re only going to get better and they’re going to evolve with you. Being queer is such a huge part of my identity and my life. I feel like it’s hard to ever fully remove that from something that is coming from me.
You identify as a queer filmmaker and then you also identify as an activist. Is there anything in your filmmaking specifically with this film or perhaps your other projects where those two identities kind of feed into one another?
It’s funny, I have been actually thinking about that a lot — of identifying as an activist. I don’t know if I’m not necessarily one going to every protest. My whole Instagram story is rarely ever political. But I think how I see the actual change is through my own community, in my own work, because that’s something I can participate in in a real way and see real change in front of my face. When I hire people, I often hire women and queer people and marginalized people. Or when I’m curating a screening — that’s just been sort of how I go about the world since I was in film school.
I definitely felt like because I was a girl in cinematography school, I felt like all the boys were touching the camera and close to it and asking questions. And I was kind of behind them, looking over their shoulder. And I hated that because I wanted to do that. I want to create an environment where if you want to know something, come up to me and ask me. I love hiring people, working with people who also sort of echo that and want to create just better work environments and more open work environments. So I guess ‘activist’ feels like a funny word, but I try to do a good job. I run a small production company. I think my own footprint is what I have power over and my own morals and what I believe in.
Is there anything you’re working on right now you’re excited about, that you want to talk about?
I’ve actually been doing a lot more producing, which has been really cool. I love helping my friends and people I care about achieve their own vision. It doesn’t always have to be my own. How can we make something together and how can I be a part of that? My good friend Ricky Staffieri, he wrote this really fun short film called “Midnight Drop,” and we’re shooting it in two weeks in LA, and we’ve been working on that for the past four months. I’m really excited about that. Matty Matheson is producing it and we have a bunch of really fun comedians. The concept is really goofy and exciting.
It’s really fun to produce movies. I love making movies. People will be like, “What’s your favorite job you’ve ever done?” My favorite job is my next job because that’s all I’m thinking about: What I’m doing next. And that’s how I feel about this short, for sure, with Ricky.
