Chauka, Please Tell Us The Time is, by any measure, a ground-breaking film. Within an Australia context, its value is magnified, it appears to us more confronting, more immediate. The world depicted in the documentary isn’t distant or unknown, but instead, it is a prison that was built up by Australian policies; maintained by acquiescence and apathy. The work has two directors: in the Netherlands, the Dutch-Iranian filmmaker Arash Kamali Sarvestani, and on Manus Island, the Kurdish activist and writer Behrouz Boochani. The two constructed their film through an intricate, prolonged and covert process. Boochani would send Sarvestani footage, which the latter would edit, and Sarvestani would give Boochani feedback, advice, and criticism. Chauka was constructed at a distance, yet the film carries itself with a sense of intimacy and honesty.
Each scene holds up a mirror to the viewer. The reflections highlight a direct complicity, targeting the collective malignant indifference of the nation. While the film offers plenty of commentary on the deep injustice that frames the treatment of refugees across the world, image after image hones in on the reality that exists within Australia’s off-shore detention centres. It is – as both Sarvestani and Boochani will attest – a document of what has occurred on Manus Island. A work that pushes back against perceptions of how Australia treats refugees, and how it allows detention centres to be run in its name.
We caught up with Arash Kamali Sarvestani to discuss the story behind the film, the process of bringing the idea to fruition, and how he feel premiering the film at Sydney Film Festival. Later in the interview, we contacted Behrouz Boochani – who was refused entry to present his film – on Manus Island, to discuss the move to stop him from attending the festival, and the impact he hopes the work will have.
Note: The following interview was conducted with the assistance of an interpreter, Omid Tofighian. Many thanks to him and Sydney Film Festival for making this interview possible.
I think Chauka, Please Tell Us the Time is a really ground-breaking film that feels overdue. The way it depicts life on Manus, the extent of what it is able to reveal to an audience in only 90 minutes… there’s a lot of density to the work. Even beyond this, it operates in a really unique way.
Thank you very much, I think so too. It’s something that is an important movie, absolutely. It completely disrupts any other attempt to address the issue, and brings a whole new message and style of communication.
It’s such a rare opportunity to have an intimate portrait of an issue that’s constantly ignored or misrepresented. The persistent effort to remove humanity the from this issue in Australia’s political sphere, and in the media — I think Chauka pushes back against this so well. Was there a long process that led to this all coming together?
A lot of people ask this kind of question. Your question is different. The difference between your question and the style of asking your question and the other questions about how the film was made is that you’ve focused on the issue of the uniqueness of the film and how they ended up ignoring all of the rhetoric that ignores some really pivotal issues and just what they had to do to capture that uniqueness. To respond to this question and to really capture the nature of this film we have to start from day one — from the very first day we started to make this film. Why we made it, what path we took in order to make it, to understand that it’s really important to realise that we had no idea that this film would end up in the Sydney Film Festival, for instance. We had no idea what would happen with this film, where it was going to end up, what the outcome was going to be.
There was some hope that it would do something special. We had some idea that this is what we wanted or this is what we’re confident that it will achieve. What’s happened is beyond our expectations. Originally we didn’t start off with any particular expectations and really how it would shape up we weren’t really sure about. Behrouz had some objectives and some concerns when he started off. Arash had some objectives and concerns when he started off. These both came together at a certain point… I just came from the cinema now, actually. I watched a film about Abbas Kiarostami.
76 minutes and 15 seconds, right?
Yes, that’s the one. I actually had the honour of attending a workshop run by Abbas Kiarostami in 2015 in Barcelona. I have a background in cinema back in Iran and in the Netherlands I studied video art. Basically because of my education and my training I was ready for this workshop with Abbas Kiarostami. He had a transformative impact and influence on my view of art. One of the main things that I really acquired from him was a work ethic. You need to work. You need to be confident in what you need to do. You don’t delay things. You go out and you do it. There were a lot of things I learned from him but I want to focus on this particular influence.
The workshop focus was the sea. It was the project that I was involved a school for children. It was basically in Barcelona, right by the Mediterranean. The project was about children and I engaged with children for my contribution to the project. The view of children was really important to me. For all of us, if we all remember back to our childhood, the sea is always an awe-inspiring element, an awe-inspiring feature. Even more for kids. This was something that I felt was really important.
When I returned home to the Netherlands after the workshop… the issues, the failures, the problems associated with asylum seekers and their encounters with the sea was something that I was confronted with regularly. I was watching images and reading about people leaving Libya, losing their lives at sea, drowning at sea, fathers dying, leaving families behind, kids dying at sea. When it came to Australia it was these offshore islands that were detaining refugees. The sea was a really important element for me. It was a really important feature. I was always thinking about what the kids in Nauru think about the sea. How is it different from the kids that I was working with on the Mediterranean? What was their view of the sea? No doubt it would be different. Maybe they look at the sea as a kind of prison. Maybe they’re scared of the sea. Maybe they see the sea as a form of violence or violation. This was something that was concerning.
I was looking to get in touch with people on Nauru and find out ways that I could work with the kids on a project like this but because of the lack of communication, fear, a whole range of different issues, it wasn’t possible. While I was doing my research on this the children didn’t become my central focus anymore. As I was reading more and researching more I thought just how bizarre and strange and concerning it was that these islands existed. That’s when I found the articles that Behrouz had written.
When I started off on this project I didn’t think about money, how to get money funding in any way, what camera I was going to use, what opportunities exist from making this film. I just wanted to make it. I knew that this film had to be made. That was my concern. Issues such as getting approval to make the film, getting visas and all that sort of thing, didn’t even cross my mind. The thing that I was thinking about that occupied my mind was that this film has to be made. This was my perspective, my approach. It was really important who the other partner in the project is, Behrouz in the detention centre. He’s an artist. He’s a writer. He’s a poet. He’s a political prisoner there. He’s being held. It’s really important what his perspective and his contribution was to this partnership.
As I was discussing with him, as we were planning, I told him that I don’t want this to be… I don’t want the camera to be the perspective of a journalist because he’s a journalist. Arash was saying, “I don’t want this to be the camera of a journalist. I want you to use the camera in order to make images, to create images, like portraits.” Like Kiarostami. Behrouz turned around and said, “Actually, I love Kiarostami.” That’s made the relation so quickly so close. Forget about festivals and papers and articles and everything and this and that and critiques. The most important thing was that, Behrouz, and a camera. That’s it.
How would you and Behrouz keep in touch throughout the planning stage?
Here we are doing some free promotion for WhatsApp… they have to pay us for this. But really, it helped a lot. We were communicating through voice messaging. Not talking over the phone but sending voice messages. Like text messages. I’d send a message, record my voice, and send a message. He’d listen to it, then he’d record a voice message, and send it to me. It was like that. Listening became central. It started from 30 seconds, the conversation, and ended up at the end of the project 10,000 minutes. 30 seconds, 30 seconds, one minute. It wasn’t the kind of project where I’d tell him, “Take these shots”, he’d go away and take them, and then he’d send a team, and he’d edit it. As we were constructing this film, creating this film, we were discussing it, talking about it, debating it… It was all happening at the same time. The planning and the making was happening at the same time.
Basically there were 100 different directions that we could take this film. We had to have concentration. We had to have a purpose. We couldn’t change that direction. We needed to stay on track. This was really important. Until we made this film not one shot had come out of this detention centre. Not one series of video. It was really important that what we do put out is going to be impactful. It couldn’t be like getting a whole range of shots and then showing it all. It wasn’t about showing everything. It was about showing something with a purpose.
We couldn’t get emotional about it and just suddenly get caught up with how everything feels and the fact that we want to say everything. We had to have a particular kind of attention. Put yourself in the position of the filmmaker. It was something so rare, something so raw, it’s so easy to lose yourself. It’s so easy to just suddenly get caught up in the emotions. This project could have gone wayward. The dialogue was really important. The bad internet connection, the slow internet connection actually helped us. It was really an important factor that we couldn’t do things quickly. A lot of people say that it was a huge obstacle having a slow internet connection. That’s true but it also helped the project.
Definitely. The direction you were moving in bringing the work together…
We were coming together. We realised what camera we were going to use. We realised what the story was going to be and it wasn’t going to be fragmented story. It was going to be clean storyline, narrative. We knew what the obstacles were. We also knew that the problems we faced were not really problems. They were blessings. The work was going forward.
At a certain point we came to talk about the issue of Chauka. This took probably about three months. In the first three months we got to know each other. Got to know each other’s personalities, what opportunities were available. I got to know the prison, Behrouz described the prison for me. Then came sending the shots to each other. We didn’t think that WhatsApp would send shots and we tried it. It was a 30 second shot that Behrouz sent me. When I received it it was really low quality but it was hope. It was going to be possible to send shots even through WhatsApp. If that wasn’t possible the whole project would have been… It was gradual. There was a lot of editing done. We sent things back and forth. We discussed things. It wasn’t like take a few shots, send it, put it all together, get into the Sydney Film Festival. It was a long arduous process.
Really important things happened to both of us throughout this process. One of them was that I became incarcerated in this prison. One of the problems was that the best time for Behrouz to use the internet and to get in touch with me was really early in the morning. Like six o’clock. That meant it was around midnight, one o’clock in the morning for me. I’m a stay-at-home dad. I’ve got a lot of responsibilities, a lot of issues that I have to deal with. It was really difficult. We had to find this moment to communicate. He was telling me a lot of really shocking details, some really horrible things. It was absolutely distressing, completely distressing. Then I had to go to bed after this exchange. In a few hours later wake up and look after my son and daughter.
Did that cycle begin to have an effect on you?
My wife realised this and my kids realised this that I was becoming a prisoner. I was tired, I was drained, and I was listening to all this stuff. I couldn’t really talk to my wife about it because she had to get ready to go to work. This is all in the first three months. In the first three months we were sending shots to each other. Behrouz had to find his feet as a filmmaker. He’s a journalist, he’s a writer, he loves Kiarostami but he wasn’t a filmmaker. This was the most dangerous part of the project. Telling this is what filmmaking involves. This could have destroyed his self-confidence. This is the sort of thing that occurs for people studying at film school.
In film academies and you know when you study at a film academy before they tell you you should make movie they start telling you the rules. That’s the worst thing because you would tell it to yourself, “Okay, I can’t be Kubrick.” Kubrick did all those rules but I can’t do that. They don’t realise that you should make things and learn during making. Not at first learning the rules and then start making. Then you can’t because you’re terrified. I can’t.
That’s why a lot of film schools don’t really produce filmmakers. I had to do something about this. Behrouz asked him about the rules of making films and he said, “No. Just leave it. It’s going to be an obstacle.” Then all right, “Send me shots. Just send me a few shots.” I put them together, I sent him a private link. He used to go to the city, the main city in Papua New Guinea close to the detention, about 40 minutes from the detention centre, and that’s when the internet was better. He finally realised you can move things around, change the order of things, put voiceovers there. He finally started to realise what editing involves.
This is just really an example for you to understand what kind of discussions were going on in the making of this film. For instance, Behrouz would send me a shot with half a building. I told him, “The shot is good but from now on if you want to take a shot either show the full building or don’t show the building at all. If you’re going to show a tree show the full tree or no tree at all.” Keep this in mind as you’re developing. He’s really clever and he got it. He realised himself after a while what a good shot is and what a bad shot is. I didn’t want to demoralise him. I didn’t want to crush his confidence. He realised himself basically as we were discussing in a simple move forward what filmmaking involves, what taking a shot is in the first three months. He also had to learn how to work with amateur actors. Untrained actors. This was really hard. While we’re having these kinds of discussions we’re also talking about different narratives or different plots. Throughout this whole process, these dialogues, we were exploring a number of different pathways.
Once they actually started to tell me about the solitary confinement cell that’s called Chauka and other times he’d talk about the bird Chauka. As we were all sending voice messages to each other we could hear the Chauka bird crying or singing in the background. Here’s when things started to come together.
What’s Chauka? For indigenous peoples all over the world luckily a lot of them still have their connection with nature. Nature has its roots in their culture. The bird is not just a bird. It’s a sign of respect. There’s a special kind of admiration for a bird like Chauka. It’s deeply interconnected with culture. Nature is deeply interconnected with culture. For instance, crocs, birds, other animals, they’re not just animals. There’s something deeply foundational about it. The Chauka bird is a bird that tells the time. For indigenous peoples, for the locals in Manus, they know when they hear the Chauka, for instance in the morning, it’s six o’clock. The Chauka bird is so important that it’s even on the Manus flag. This is like a huge question for me. I’m still bewildered by it. Why they would call a solitary confinement cell in the detention centre Chauka? The answer to that actually answers all the other questions.
It’s telling seeing how a symbol like Chauka is transformed by policies coming out of Australia.
All the other questions about Australia and its policies and its treatment and its perspective on refugees and asylum seekers. All of that can really be contained, it can be illuminated by answering this question: why call that place Chauka? Like I mentioned, so many of the answers to this whole failure can be understood, it can be highlighted by looking at this situation with this cell, with the issue of Chauka.
The politicians in Australia, they’re basically using the locals, they’re using the identity of the locals, to persecute refugees and asylum seekers. They’re treating the locals as colonial subjects. They’re using them. They look at them as worthless, as people who just do their dirty work. Just give them some money and they’ll do whatever they want to the people that Australia doesn’t want.
They’re using their identity to persecute other people. It’s a form of insult. It’s upsetting. It’s all about setting away your problems for someone else to look after and just paying whatever. It’s a colonial enterprise. If I were a Manusian I’d be really upset and angry. The politicians have done something really clever. They’ve tricked the Manusians into hating… not into hating the asylum seekers and putting the blame on the asylum seekers rather than on the Australian politicians. This is exactly what Chauka represents. Something respectful, something honourable for the locals that’s been transformed into a solitary confinement cell to persecute. I’m sure that if we all go to Manus together it’s one of the most beautiful sights of nature, and the people too.
For the asylum seekers, the people on Manus are the most frightening people on Earth. Australia has decided it’s going to build this new identity with Chauka, to build a Chauka cell there. These are all metaphors. Chauka tells the time. For the asylum seekers and refugees that are incarcerated in Manus time has no meaning anymore.
At the same time the Chauka bird is an identity symbol, it tells the time. At the same time it’s a symbol of torture for the asylum seekers. Sure, if we investigate the history of torture and all elements used for torture throughout the history of civilization the most impactful, the most dreadful one, is the one that uses the element of time. Time has no meaning anymore. Time is being stretched out, extended to such an extent that it’s boundless. There’s no beginning and there’s no end. Now we want to build this film. This is where we can’t lose concentration.
We have a lot of bloody shots, we have a lot of violent shots. We want to talk about Chauka as well. It’s not possible. Do you want to talk about Chauka? Torture that uses time. If you want to talk about the invisible violence that occurs there you have to relinquish shots of blood, gore, violence, you have to focus on the way that time tortures. Now I think I’m finally arriving to the question you asked. It wasn’t possible to consider critics, film goers, what asylum seekers would like to see themselves in this film, what the general public how they would feel about it. We had a focus, we had an objective, and we had to find what was going to fulfil that, what was going to communicate that. We couldn’t lose track and just consider all these festivals and journalists and all that.
There’s a particular kind of rhythm in this film. There’s a certain tempo. Some people might call it tiring or boring. Actually, that’s a good thing for a film like this. You’ll never find contradiction. There’s never two different messages coming out of some of the stories. It’s on track. There’s focus. There’s a very strong line right throughout. This is what I think.
We’re talking about one of the most independently made films in the history of cinema. Me, Behrouz, and a smartphone. No Euros. No money. This is a challenge for filmmakers. A lot of them set out to do it and not all of them succeed. Basically follow that direction. It was my objective, this was Behrouz’s objective, and I hope it worked. I don’t know.
I definitely think it comes together in a really powerful way. I think the premiere at a festival as large as Sydney Film Festival definitely sends a message, and I think it’s a film that will really affect the audiences that see it. I feel like it will have an impact.
This is one of those films you have to watch from the beginning right through the 90 minutes. It’s not the kind of film you can watch at home, go to the bathroom, get something to eat, you fast forward, you pause. The moviegoing experience will actually help. We created this film in a way that the viewer, the spectator, can’t stop.
I’m sure that whoever watches this film from beginning to end, whether they have absolutely zero understanding of this place, or whether they know about it or not, will have some really important questions arise. Other questions for others. Someone in the south of France might ask, “Where is Manus?” They’ll Google the location. This is good. This is an achievement.
Someone like you who lives in Australia might search Reza Berati. We didn’t really focus on that. We didn’t really make that a central thing. Someone watching in Australia watching it will go and research Reza Berati and how he got killed. Maybe for someone who actually knows about Reza Berati and maybe has gone to Manus, has been involved in these issues, maybe it will spark some idea about how to take action, how to do something about it. This all depends on whether they watch the whole 90 minutes first.
I was thinking about your early idea to shoot children, and how you weren’t able to do it. It made me thinking of Kiarostami’s film Where Is The Friend’s Home, how it’s a film with so much space: with children wandering through towns, and there’s this wonder to it. It’s almost inverted with Chauka, where that is taken away.
I’m really heavily influenced by Kiarostami, although I’ve got my own views as well and my own style of filmmaking. I think one of the questions that I have… I have a question. In your view, why do you think I brought those local children into the film? When he was filming the kids behind the fence.
That image is definitely one of the most powerful and lasting moments of the film, that fenced off freedom and innocence. It’s one of those moments that humanises in such an overwhelming way.
We felt passionate. We felt that it’s really hyper-masculine and really violent, the film. We had to have a woman in the film, which we did, and children. What you see is that those kids are on the other side of the fence and, inside the prison, Behrouz is singing a Kurdish folk song. They’re dancing. How more human can you get than that? Could Malcolm Turnbull watch this scene and sleep comfortably at night? Malcolm Turnbull is antagonising the children, he’s antagonising the detainees, but they’re dancing. I think every Australian needs to feel a shame at this point.
This might be a little diversion but it’s really important… Someone else that we wanted to have in the film but we thought that it would be, again, diverting from the path, the narrative plot, that we placed… He lost his arm from a mine explosion, a mine that was left from World War II. Any asylum seeker that wants sanctuary goes to him. Any asylum seeker can go there and stay at his place. They love him. Something like this should evoke shame. I wish we could have used some of those shots but we couldn’t really. I might go make a film about this person. If I can’t can you go make it?
Yeah, really. You should do that. For me, it’s not easy because I live in the Netherlands. That’s a perfect…that’s absolutely the brilliant person to make a movie. If I can’t make it, you do that. You will be maybe in the Cannes Film Festival in 18 months. I don’t know. Okay. Even if I were accepted to come to Australia and participate in this festival I would have rejected it. There’s no way I’d leave everyone here on the island and go to Australia. If I come to Australia there’s no way that I’d return. There’s no way they would let me return to Manus. I’d just be leaving everyone behind. I would have just cut my activism… It would have been the end of my activism, of my work, and I wasn’t going to do that.
At this point in the interview, we contacted Behrouz Boochani on Manus to ask a couple of questions.
One of the big things, Behrouz, is the fact that you weren’t able – or more, weren’t allowed – to attend the festival. For people who aren’t familiar, I wanted to ask you why you weren’t able to be at premiere of this film?
Behrouz: In response to the rejection I was mainly thinking about the arts community in Australia. How is it that they allow liberal democracy, they allow a politician to make their decision like that about another artist? They won’t let an artist participate in a festival where his film is being shown. How is it that the arts community would allow something like that to happen? How indifferent? How could they just stand by and just watch that happen or let that happen?
I’ve received a letter rejecting me… I made an application, even though I wasn’t going to come. I made an application for coming to Australia to attend the opening of my film. I received a rejection letter. I’m going to keep this letter and I’m going to use it and I’m going to publish it. Even if it’s 20 years from now. This is a historical document. It needs to go into the immigration museum. It needs to be made into a historical piece of history.
The fact that they refused an artist entry even though his art was being shown in the country. My question is how can they exile me to an island like this without a visa? I don’t have a visa to go to Manus? How could they exile me to Manus without a visa but refuse me a visa to come to Australia? This is a huge contradiction, an example of hypocrisy. I guess ultimately I’m not angry but I have a lot of criticism, a lot of concern for the arts community and their response to all of this. How can they let a politician determine the fate of an artist?
I think that’s a telling look at how unjust this whole process has been. I hope the film is able to have an impact on the apathy within the art community, and broader audiences. I think it’s a work that will have a lasting impact on those who see it. Chauka portrays life on Manus Island – in detention – in a completely unique, stark, and affecting way. I haven’t seen a film about the issue in Australia that operates at all in the same way. I wanted to wrap up by asking what you both hoped would come from the film, more broadly, where you do think it will end up? What impact would you like it to have?
Arash: There were different phases in this project and we had different hopes at different phases. In the beginning we wanted it to be a historical document. We wanted this to be documented in history. We didn’t want people to forget about it. We wanted to keep some historical presence, historical place. Then as things developed and it got accepted into the festival our hopes increased. Ultimately, in the end we realised that really the only hope that we can have is for it to just be a historical document, for it to confirm a place in history, for people not to forget in the future that this sort of thing happened.
I guess for us the most saddening thing is that there’s no support. We realised that there’s very little support for refugees and asylum seekers, especially the ones on Manus Island and Nauru. This lack of support, this small amount of support that there is for them, reduces our hope. Ultimately, with all the things that have come out, the things that people have done, the real winners have been the journalists. The journalists have built careers. They’ve published. They’ve talked about it. Nothing has changed. The journalists themselves have won. They’ve made something of themselves.We’re all the winners. Filmmakers, you as a journalist, we as filmmakers, we’re all the winners here. No one in the detention centres is winning. The winners are the journalists, the filmmakers.
Journalism comes and goes. It’s not going to make any impact, it doesn’t have longevity. Compare this with Jafar Panahi who was banned from making films in Iran. There were thousands and thousands of letters of support or thousands of signatures of support for him. I’m sure hundreds of them were from Australia. Where are they now? We’ve got an artist, a filmmaker in Manus Island who is not allowed to come here to attend the opening of his film, the premiere of his film. Where are the artists? Where are they protesting? Think about the feminists. When Trump came into power feminists in Australia came out onto the streets. Where are the feminists for the women and children in Nauru? Child born eight years old and is now 12 years old, child born into the prison at four years old, is now eight years old. Where are the feminists in support of these people? Trump is one issue. It’s great that they came out to protest against Trump. Where are they in relation to Manus Island and Nauru? Don’t forget that 900 men in the detention centre are fathers, are husbands. Their wives are also suffering, their children are also suffering.
When Malcolm Turnbull talks about Australian values is he talking about just Australian men, women, and children or is he talking about women and children in and of themselves as worthy of respect and dignity and protection? Ultimately, we’ve got a country teaching us in Iran, people from Iran, about democracy and human rights but this is the situation on the ground. Ultimately, I don’t have any hope that this film will really change anything.
If I want to be selfish I would say that I’m the winner. I’m here. I got all the attention, I go back to the Netherlands, make my next movie, “fuck you all”. That’s nasty. You know? You write a good article, that’s it, finish, bye, and then move to another article. There is not something serious here. You know? Okay, I see a city with five million people in it. Maybe tomorrow 500 people are doing some march or something like that or demonstration in front of the City Hall. That’s it. That’s it. Okay, maybe I just hope I change people’s vote. The problem is both parties are against this policy. Even if they vote for the other one the other one just continues what the other one does. That’s why I say I have no hope. Maybe I’m wrong because I’m really not from here. Maybe I’m totally wrong. I just feel like this.
Behrouz: Yeah, essentially, we wanted to document the history of this prison. We wanted the things that have happened in this prison to remain in history, to be a part of history, and also the politics surrounding it as well. We wanted generations in the future to look back and never forget that this sort of thing has happened. That was one of our objectives. We wanted everyone to realise and for people in the future to realise that human rights abuses have occurred here. Violence has occurred here. We just couldn’t let the Australian government in a few years time wash it’s hands of all of this and just move on as if nothing had happened. We want this documented. We never want this to be forgotten.
When I first talked to Arash about it we both agreed that this is what we want to do. We had the same perspective, we had the same objective. The other objectives that we had were to humanise the people in the prison. We wanted people outside to know that there are people here, human beings here, who enjoy music, who have an understanding of what love means, who have dreams and hopes, who have families. They’re just normal people like everyone else. Like everyone else around the world. That was another thing we wanted people to realise. We wanted it to be a political film of course. We wanted it to be a political statement. Why is it that we’ve been held here for four years? What’s the purpose? What’s behind all of this?
We wanted to give voice, a political voice, to the people in the prison. We wanted this political issue or this political failure to become global. We wanted to raise awareness on a global level. We want it to go international. We also wanted to introduce Manus culture. We wanted people to understand that Manus has a culture and it’s a beautiful culture. Whether we’re successful in doing that, in doing this, who knows? We have to wait and see. I think it’s just important to know that we have many goals, many objectives with this film.
I think the film definitely does a lot of those things. Obviously some of them, we’ll have to wait and see though. I think it is an incredible film and I think, and hope, it is able to have an impact.
Thanks so much for the interview.