Streaming everywhere on June 6. Purchase here.
Describe the film for us in your own words.
Thirsty follows the campaign of a tenacious attorney Audrey Allen as she strives to unseat the incumbent mayor of Oakland. Driven by her rough upbringing and altruistic desires, Audrey is willing to endure the relentless demands of campaign life. This is a woman who fights to win.
What drew you to this story?
When I was growing up my mom ran for office twice and lost both times but she never put a negative spin on the experience. She was grateful that she got to swing for the fences and was proud of everything she learned along the way. I created Thirsty to inspire women to be brave like my mom and not fear failure.
Audrey’s journey also aims to encourage middle class women not to sideline their professional goals. I think her story became especially relevant post-pandemic because during that time so many women tabled their careers to care for kids that weren’t in school. And now we’re in a moment where American women are constantly being reminded of the enduring power of patriarchy. So the timing feels right for Thirsty and hopefully it will inspire women viewers to move towards the leadership opportunities in their own lives. I also want Thirsty to nudge husbands to think critically about the role they play in their wives’ careers. As Kyra Sedgwick’s character says in the movie “the thickest glass ceiling is always the one at home”
What do you want people to think about?
I hope Thirsty helps women get more comfortable with failing because failure is how you learn. Doing something difficult, despite possible failure, is how you eventually win. Men know this and that’s why they’re more comfortable with risk. No guts, no glory.
The harder it got to make Thirsty, the more important its core message became to me. I have two daughters and since kids learn a lot more from what you do versus what you say, I knew I had to hang in there despite the setbacks. At age fifty, the prize for all the trials and tribulations is that I now feel fully self-actualized. No, I’m not a big kahuna in Hollywood, but I’ve directed six feature films and I’ve said what I wanted to say. I want that feeling for more women my age. Regardless of your profession or life path, by fifty you should feel like you have become who you wanted to be. That if you die tomorrow, you will leave behind a legacy that is resonant and uniquely your own.
What was the biggest challenge in making this?
Every stage of indie filmmaking has serious challenges that can take you out. As Thirsty Executive Producer and California State Controller Malia Cohen once told me: “you have to fight through the nos to get to the yesses.”
I wish I had a less predictable answer but the biggest challenge in making an indy feature like Thirsty is inevitably financing. That’s ultimately why it took fourteen years to make. I’m a die-hard feminist who shares both financial and child-rearing responsibilities with my husband so I’ve always had to put the money jobs first. Thankfully, I realized early on that I’m the one who gets to determine the timetable for projects I independently helm. As I tell other filmmakers, a movie isn’t dead until you quit. As long as you keep pushing it forward the best you can, the movie is alive and the right partners will eventually emerge. I needed to make this film but given my responsibilities I also had to make it on my own terms and at my own pace. Finding investors was certainly an uphill battle but thankfully once I attached strong lead producers (Jeff Allard and Maria León) things started to fall into place.
What was the development process? How did you get green lit?
The only thing you can control during development is your effort level. Just do your best and then leave the rest up to the universe. You also need to accept that failure is built into every stage of the independent filmmaking process. It’s basically a numbers game that has its own timetable. Pitch fifty investors, get two. Meet with twenty actors, land one. And so on.
The first major win for Thirsty was when producer Jeff Allard came on board. Jeff’s pragmatic attitude and deep knowledge of indy film producing made the magic happen. He and Maria León (our intrepid Co-Producer and Line Producer) collaborated seamlessly. We also had some incredible local women politicians come on board (Malia Cohen, Angela Andrews and Elisa Márquez) who threw a ton of resources and important relationships in our direction. We ended up with many locations in Hayward (a city adjacent to Oakland) because of Angela and Elisa’s deep community there. Our producing team was incredibly resourceful, and our budget came together because of their long-term efforts. Ultimately the film was mostly funded by a collective of professional women who saw the value of Audrey’s story and shared my determination to get the film made. We have over twenty investors in the film which wasn’t the easiest way to go logistically but no choice, easy choice.
Attaching Casting Director Charlene Lee was also critical to our film getting green lit. She had a full plate when we hired her (she was also casting the Netflix series “Beef” at the time) but really believed in the project. Her strong relationships with both agents and talent enabled us to lock in a truly outstanding ensemble cast. One of our producers Angela Andrews also had a talent for casting and she was the one who brought Jamie to my attention. She thought Jamie might be a good fit for the role of Sonia but I had seen her excellent performance as a sex worker turned activist in The Deuce and thought she could be an even better Audrey. She hadn’t played a lead role yet but when I met her, I knew she was our Audrey right away. She has Audrey’s unique cultural fluency and she’s from New Orleans, a city with a lot of similarities to Oakland.
What inspired you to become a storyteller?
My first job out of college involved working with public assistance recipients in New York City. At that time there was a lot of stereotypes floating around about “welfare queens” that rubbed me the wrong way given that I deeply sympathized with the women I worked with. I wanted to help tell their side of the story and that’s how my first documentary Take It From Me took shape and ultimately aired on PBS’s POV series in 2000.
Since then, I’ve directed five more social-issue based features and followed my own unique path as a filmmaker. I’m not a fan of the values in Los Angeles so I never moved there. I don’t like casual depictions of violence so I passed on directing horror movies. I'm a feminist who is deeply invested in improving race relations so I can’t get behind a film without strong female protagonists or a truly diverse cast. If I’m going to invest five to ten years of my life into a film I need to believe it will have worthy social impact.
What’s the best and worst advice you've received?
I think resilience is the most important quality for a filmmaker and it is also at the core of almost every scene in Thirsty. When I was growing up my dad would often quote Churchill and tell me to “never, ever give up” on something I believed in. He was a refugee and Holocaust survivor who knew a lot about the power of perseverance. He also taught me to stand up for myself and that too has been a crucial ingredient in my filmmaking career. Filmmakers are often financially exploited and mistreated, sometimes by their own hand, because they’re so desperate to make their movies. I have sacrificed greatly to get my films made (and to be candid, Thirsty was definitely hard on my marriage) but I’ve also been diligent about keeping my career in balance with my other priorities, especially motherhood. I can honestly say that throughout my twenty-five years as a filmmaker I have always stayed true to myself and followed my own moral compass closely.
The worst advice came from a close family member so it really stung…“cut your losses.” It was also the timing that sucked. When you’re really down, the people that matter are the ones who say “get back up, you got this.”
What advice do you have for other female creatives?
Chart your own course. I have had to fight hard not to have my career be another cautionary tale about women in the industry. My first feature Toe to Toe premiered at Sundance but most women filmmakers who reach this near impossible goal never make another feature, especially if they have kids. And then there’s the industry chatter about “director jail”, that if you don’t make your next feature within five years of your previous one, you’re done. I said bullshit to all that. I said: I’m done when I say I’m done, not when my agent lays me off during covid, not when it takes me fourteen years to get a film financed, not when I’m shooting weddings on the weekends to pay the bills.
Also, hold your ground. Folks are hard on women leaders. Not just men but other women as well. There are Harvard studies that say the same. On a low budget film set you’re constantly walking the line between kindness and toughness. There’s usually a lot of complaints because crew members are working very hard for not much dough and some of that related discontent will be thrown in your direction. I think actors, regardless of their gender, can also be more combative with female directors than they are with male ones. Resentments towards you as a director can easily flourish because many people on set want to be directors themselves. Most folks have no idea what you went through to be where you are and you shouldn’t expect them to. Lead your set with humility and gratitude but also know when you need to hold your ground.
Name your favorite woman directed film and why.
There’s so many! A few of my recent favorites include: A Thousand and One by A.V. Rockwell, My Old Ass by Megan Park, Babygirl by Halina Reijn, True Things by Harry Wootliff, Aftersun by Charlotte Wells, Zola by Janicza Bravo… anything by Lynn Ramsay, Catherine Breillat or Andrea Arnold. I also love the new Hulu series Dying for Sex created by Elizabeth Meriwether and Kim Rosenstock. All of these projects have authentic women protagonists and empowering narratives. The films I most appreciate are the ones that subtly impart some kind of moral truth.
Feel free to share anything else you would like people to know about this film.
Time is finite. It is also the currency of love so career fumbles can be reimagined as wins for our personal lives. This is the essence of what I tried to capture in Thirsty and is also true to my own experience. Whenever I didn’t land a big job there was of course the inevitable disappointment but that feeling would often be quickly replaced with gratitude for more family time. A good life requires equilibrium and I hope Audrey’s journey towards it resonates with audiences across the globe.