Darida Rose, UniversalCinema Magazine (UM): A major theme of the film seems to be the problem of peer pressure, especially when those applying the pressure don’t really understand what’s going on with the other person. Have you experienced this sort of pressure? What was the inspiration for Cranberry Nights?
Sara Robin (SR): I think everyone has probably at some point experienced peer pressure – that’s what makes it such a timeless topic in coming of age films. The added conflict of having a hidden identity is something that is deeply personal to me. I’m an introvert, and mostly kept my thoughts to myself as a high schooler. I always loved observing people, and I guess over time that led to seeing through a lot of pretending that’s going on. Especially in high school when everyone is trying to be “cool”. I was convinced that people wouldn’t like what I had to say if I was being honest, because so much of it would pierce right through their carefully crafted performances. So I kept quiet, and people just thought I wasn’t all that interested to be part of the group. But in truth I really was – I mean I was constantly observing every little thing! And secretly I wished people knew what was really going on inside me. So I’m very familiar with that kind of experience, where you’re at the outside looking in, wishing you belonged, and wishing you were “normal” – whatever that means exactly!
(UM): The last lines from Juana’s friend Kelly, that she’d go with her, seem to indicate that Kelly doesn’t understand at all what Juana is facing or going through. Was that the intended effect?
(SR): Yes, that was very much the intended effect. I like subtlety in my films, and I was a bit worried that we’d be hitting the audience over the head with that line. But once you see it in the context that Kelly is drunk, and really not all there, it started making sense as something that she would say. It shows that she is ultimately focussed on herself, and cannot grasp the extent of the consequences that a deportation would mean for Juana. It is not part of Kelly’s world, and in her raw unfiltered state, we get to see how immature she actually is. Which is a direct reversal from how we initially saw her – as the experienced cool kid who shows Juana the ropes. But in this moment of painful self-reflection, Kelly mostly worries about what it will mean for her to lose her best friend. And the logical conclusion is to go with Juana, so she doesn’t lose her. I think privilege easily results in ignorance, because when you’re protected from harsh realities you develop a skewed view of the world. There is no malintent involved here, but Kelly still causes a lot of damage because of her ignorance. It’s a tendency in our society that I think we’re recognizing again thanks to Black Lives Matter, and to me an honest discussion about ignorance is key in coming to terms with whiteness and privilege.
(UM): Inde does an amazingly convincing job portraying Juana. Could you tell us a bit about how you directed her and what it was like working with her?
(SR): Inde is incredible! She was actually the only one we cast off of a self tape (everyone else auditioned in person), and I knew in the first 3 seconds of that tape that I had found Juana. It was an interesting process working with her, because Inde naturally is a lot more outgoing and confident than Juana. So we spent time in rehearsal exploring tense and uncomfortable social situations, to get to that point of vulnerability that would bring Juana’s struggles to the screen convincingly. It was a lot of delicate work, and we had to be mindful of that during the shoot as well. The final scene especially was very draining for both of the actresses, Sarah (who portrays Kelly) as well. We actually ended up re-writing the shot list on the fly to make that scene more workable. We initially had a bunch of coverage planned, but I decided to reduce it to very few shots, so that we could keep up the raw energy of the moment going. It was a scary thing to do, especially for the final scene, but in the end I am glad we did. There is something about being stuck in real time, in a two shot, that really speaks to the pain and intimacy of the moment. It takes strong performances to make that choice work, but I knew I was in good hands with Inde!
(UM): Can you tell us about the production itself? How long did it take? Were there any unexpected surprises while shooting?
(SR): My biggest surprise actually took place during pre pro on this one. I spent quite a bit of time researching and rewriting the script – over a year all up. I was very much aware that even though I’ve been living on visas the past 10 years and know a thing or two about the uncertainty and financial strain that comes with that, I have never been undocumented myself. My mother was a refugee after she fled from Poland to Germany back in the 80s. So I had some understanding of the impact that can have on one’s life, and what motivates people to emigrate outside of legal frameworks. But I needed the specifics of what it’s like to be undocumented in the US today. I met several undocumented youth leaders at an event by chance, and I was honestly a bit scared to approach them about the film – it was such a sensitive topic after all. And I was totally blown away by the trust and openness of the undocumented community. I interviewed half a dozen people to collect stories, and just to better understand what the day to day feels like. It was important to me from the get go to showcase the small, everyday things, and how they become challenging, and even dangerous in the context of being undocumented. I couldn’t have done it without the support and generosity of the many people who trusted in me, and shared their stories
(UM): On IMDb it says that Cranberry Nights is in development to become a feature. Could you give us any updated about that? Any hints about what we’ll see in the feature?
(SR): Oh yes! My favorite thing to talk about! The feature is currently in development under the working title “Here To Stay”, together with my co-writer Shirely Miller. The story spans over Juana’s senior year in high school, and the decisions that come with that – what college to go to, how to finance it. But also on a deeper level the question of identity, what it means to identify as US American, but have no secure future in the US. In the feature we were of course able to give Juana’s life much more context. It’s currently set in San Antonio, Texas and thanks to the ingenuity of her mother, she attends a good school in a wealthy neighborhood – even though her mom barely makes ends meet. So from the beginning, there is tension in Juana’s identity. She identifies with her school friends, but their lives are vastly different than her own. In the beginning of the film, Kelly doesn’t know that Juana is undocumented – Juana has been hiding that from her, scared to tell anyone about her status. And maybe also ashamed of her true identity. Over the course of the film this tension leads to crises on several fronts – and Juana is challenged to embrace her own story in order to build a future for herself. Right now, we have a solid draft, and have been getting some great coverage which has been promising to see. We were just nominated as a finalist at Barnstorm! I’m really excited about that. So hopefully you’ll hear more about the film very soon!
(UM): One of the most striking moments in the film comes when one of the teens hurls a nasty epithet at Juana. What was surprising is that the one saying this could very well be of Hispanic background just like Juana (although I can’t be sure of this). Could you comment on the decision to have the character played by Alfredo Rose (Nick is actually portrayed by Colin McCalla, kindly correct that in your question) say this rather than one of the others
(SR): Yes, I wrote Nick as Hispanic, and Colin McCalla did an amazing job portraying the character. It was a purposeful choice to underscore the complexity of immigration questions. We tend to cast different ethnic groups as homogenous racial blocks – Latinos, Whites, Blacks – and brush over the differences within these groups. But there are stark differences between, and also within ethnic groups. A single mom from Mexico who crosses the border illegally fleeing domestic violence will have a very different experience than a real estate agent who is a third generation immigrant from Colombia, whose grandparents immigrated legally. And yet we refer to both as “Latinos” and are perhaps surprised that they have different reactions to undocumented immigrants. Of course, in the short film there is no space to draw out that contrast (we are playing with that in the feature!), but at least it is in there as a moment that might startle some viewers, and creates an opening where we can ask ourselves why that is so startling, and what that says about our preconceived notions of the Latino community.
(UM): Juana seems very lonely. She has to conceal her plans from her mother, but her friends don’t really seem to understand her either. Is this meant to be a portrayal of the difficulty of being understood as a teenager?
(SR): More the opposite, actually – I’m using the well-known theme of being a teen eager to explore her boundaries to underscore what the undocumented experience is like. When you are undocumented you’re not walking around with a tag announcing your status. Most people don’t know your story, and they assume you’re a citizen just like everyone else, with the same protections and rights. They don’t know that you live with the daily threat of deportation. That you have no social security, and don’t get stimulus checks or PPP loans to help you get through Covid-19 lockdowns. They don’t know that simple things can be extremely risky for you. Like driving a car, for example – many states still don’t issue driver’s licenses to undocumented Americans. So you’re constantly living a double-life, and I think we can relate to that through the lens of being a teen, breaking rules, and keeping secrets. And at the same time, the challenges undocumented Americans face are heightened for adolescents. This is the time when you want to be free, cross boundaries, explore and develop your identity. But that is hard when every transgression could mean deportation.
(UM): Robin and Juana have a discussion about his drawing. Juana isn’t quite sure what the drawing is and Robin explains it to her. Is this meant to be a parallel to Juana being misunderstood by the others?
(SR): This scene can mean a number of things, and I liked keeping it ambiguous. Their relationship is at an ambiguous stage, and so is this moment. It shows Robin’s world (surfing in his freetime) versus Juana’s world (she doesn’t even recognize the surfboard, because surfing is not something that’s part of her pastime). But more deeply, it talks about making a choice – on top, or straight down the middle. Taking the easy way out, or the more risky path, where they wave might crush you. Juana is facing that same choice in the film: She could do the responsible thing, and go home – or she could take the risk to get in the car with a bunch of drunk kids, and maybe hit it off with Robin. Of course, in the end the film takes a tragic turn in that she gets in trouble despite making the responsible choice – because she made that choice too late.
By: Darida Rose
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