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DTLA has a new theater — inside a fake electrical box

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DTLA has a new theater — inside a fake electrical box

By day, you’d be forgiven for walking past the newest theater in downtown L.A.

It isn’t hidden in an alley or obscured via a nameless door. No, this performance space is essentially a theater in disguise, as it’s designed to look like an electrical box — a fabrication so real that when artist S.C. Mero was installing it in the Arts District, police stopped her, concerned she was ripping out its copper wire. (There is no copper wire inside this wooden nook.)

Open the door to the theater, and discover a place of urban enchantment, where a red velvet door and crimson wallpaper beckon guests to come closer and sit inside. That is, if they can fit.

With a mirror on its side and a clock in its back, Mero’s creation, about 6 feet tall and 3 feet deep yet smaller on its interior, looks something akin to an intimate, private boudoir — the sort of dressing room that wouldn’t be out of place in one of Broadway’s historic downtown theaters. That’s by design, says Mero, who cites the ornately romanticized vibe and color palette of the Los Angeles Theatre as prime inspiration. Mero, a longtime street artist whose guerrilla art regularly dots the downtown landscape, likes to inject whimsy into her work: a drainage pipe that gives birth, a ball pit for rats or the transformation of a dilapidated building into a “castle.” But there’s just as often some hidden social commentary.

With her Electrical Box Theatre, situated across from the historic American Hotel and sausage restaurant and bar Wurstküche, Mero set out to create an impromptu performance space for the sort of experimental artists who no longer have an outlet in downtown’s galleries or more refined stages. The American Hotel, for instance, subject of 2018 documentary “Tales of the American” and once home to the anything-goes punk rock ethos of Al’s Bar, still stands, but it isn’t lost on Mero that most of the neighborhood’s artist platforms today are softer around the edges.

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Ethan Marks inside S.C. Mero’s theater inside a fake electrical box. The guerrilla art piece is near the American Hotel.

(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)

“A lot of galleries are for what can sell,” Mero says. “Usually that’s paintings and wall art.”

She dreamed, however, of an anti-establishment place that could feel inviting and erase boundaries between audience and perfomer. “People may be intimidated to get up on a stage or at a coffee shop, but here it’s right on street level.”

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It’s already working as intended, says Mero. I visited the box early last week when Mero invited a pair of experimental musicians to perform. Shortly after trumpeter Ethan Marks took to the sidewalk, one of the American Hotel’s current residents leaned out his window and began vocally and jovially mimicking the fragmented and angular notes coming from the instrument. In this moment, “the box,” as Mero casually refers to it, became a true communal stage, a participatory call-and-response pulpit for the neighborhood.

Clown, Lars Adams, 38, peers out of S.C. Mero's theater inside a fake electrical box.

Clown Lars Adams, 38, peers out of S.C. Mero’s theater inside a fake electrical box. Mero modeled the space off of Broadway’s historic theaters.

(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)

A few days prior, a rideshare driver noticed a crowd and pulled over to read his poetry. He told Mero it was his first time. The unscripted occurrence, she says, was “one of the best moments I’ve ever experienced in making art.”

“That’s literally what this space is,” Mero says. “It’s for people to try something new or to experiment.”

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Marks jumped at the chance to perform for free inside the theater, his brassy freewheeling equally complementing and contrasting the sounds of the intersection. “I was delighted,” he says, when Mero told him about the stage. “There’s so much unexpectedness to it that as an improviser, it really keeps you in the moment.”

A downtown resident for more than a decade, Mero has become something of an advocate for the neighborhood. The area arguably hasn’t returned to its pre-pandemic heights, as many office floors sit empty and a string of high-profile restaurant closures struck the community. Mero’s own gallery at the corner of Spring and Seventh streets shuttered in 2024. Downtown also saw its perception take a hit last year when ICE descended on the city center and national media incorrectly portrayed the hood as a hub of chaos.

Artist, S.C. Mero poses for a portrait in her newest art project, "Electrical Box Theatre"

Artist S.C. Mero looks into her latest project, a fake electrical box in the Arts District. Mero has long been associated with street art in the neighborhood.

(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)

“A lot has changed in the 13 years when I first got down here,” Mero says. “Everybody felt like it was magic, like we were going to be part of this renaissance and L.A. was going to have this epicenter again. Then it descended. A lot of my friends left. But I still see the same beauty in it. The architecture. The history. Downtown is the most populous neighborhood in all of L.A. because it belongs to everybody. It’s everybody’s downtown, whether they love it or not. And I feel we are part of history.”

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Art today in downtown ranges from high-end galleries such as Hauser & Wirth to the graffiti-covered towers of Oceanwide Plaza. Gritty spaces, such as Superchief Gallery, have been vocal about struggles to stay afloat. Mero’s art, meanwhile, remains a source of optimism throughout downtown’s streets.

At Pershing Square, for instance, sits her “Spike Cafe,” a mini tropical hideaway atop a parking garage sign where umbrellas and finger food props have become a prettier nesting spot for pigeons. Seen potentially as a vision for beautification, a contrast, for instance, from the nature intrusive barbs that aim to deter wildlife, “Spike Cafe” has become a statement of harmony.

Elsewhere, on the corner of Broadway and Fourth streets, Mero has commandeered a once historic building that’s been burned and left to rot. Mero, in collaboration with fellow street artist Wild Life, has turned the blighted space into a fantastical haven with a knight, a dragon and more — a decaying castle from a bygone era.

“A lot of times people are like, ‘I can’t believe you get away with that!’ But most people haven’t tried to do it, you know?” Mero says. “It can be moved easily. It’s not impeding on anyone. I don’t feel I do anything bad. Not having a permit is just a technicality. I believe what I’m doing is right.”

Musician Jeonghyeon Joo, 31, plays the haegeum outside of S.C. Mero's latest art project, a theater in a faux electrical box.

Musician Jeonghyeon Joo, 31, plays the haegeum outside of S.C. Mero’s latest art project, a theater in a faux electrical box.

(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)

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After initially posting her electrical box on her social media, Mero says she almost instantly received more than 20 requests to perform at the venue. Two combination locks keep it closed, and Mero will give out the code to those she trusts. “Some people want to come and play their accordion. Another is a tour guide,” Mero says.

Ultimately, it’s an idea, she says, that she’s had for about a decade. “Everything has to come together, right? You have to have enough funds to buy the supplies, and then the skills to to have it come together.”

And while it isn’t designed to be forever, it is bolted to the sidewalk. As for why now was the right time to unleash it, Mero is direct: “I needed the space,” she says.

There are concerns. Perhaps, Mero speculates, someone will change the lock combination, knocking her out of her own creation. And the more attention brought to the box via media interviews means more scrutiny may be placed on it, risking its confiscation by city authorities.

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As a street artist, however, Mero has had to embrace impermanence, although she acknowledges it can be a bummer when a piece disappears in a day or two. And unlike a gallerist, she feels an obligation to tweak her work once it’s out in the world. Though her “Spike Cafe” is about a year old, she says she has to “continue to babysit it,” as pigeons aren’t exactly known for their tidiness.

But Mero hopes the box has a life of its own, and considers it a conversation between her, local artists and downtown itself. “I still think we’re part of something special,” Mero says of living and working downtown.

And, at least for now, it’s the neighborhood with arguably the city’s most unique performance venue.

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‘Hoppers’ is delightfully unhinged and a dam good time

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‘Hoppers’ is delightfully unhinged and a dam good time

A young environmental activist becomes a beaver and integrates into a forest community in Pixar’s Hoppers.

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We’re long past the days when the Pixar brand was a reliable indicator of quality, when every other year or so would bring a new masterwork on the level of The Incredibles, Ratatouille and WALL-E. In recent years, the Disney-owned animation studio has succumbed to sequelitis; I didn’t much care for Inside Out 2 or the Toy Story spinoff Lightyear, and even ostensible originals like Soul and Elemental have felt like high-concept disappointments.

So it’s a relief as well as a pleasure to recommend Pixar’s wildly entertaining new movie, Hoppers, without reservation. Directed by Daniel Chong from a script by Jesse Andrews, this eco-themed sci-fi farce may not be vintage or all-time-great Pixar. But its unhinged comic delirium is by far the liveliest thing to emerge from the company in years.

The movie stars Piper Curda as the voice of Mabel Tanaka, a plucky 19-year-old college misfit and environmental activist who lives in the woodsy suburban town of Beaverton. Mabel is more of an animal lover than a people person. She inherited a love of nature from her late grandmother, and she wants nothing more than to protect her favorite place, a forest glade.

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The town’s popular mayor, Jerry — amusingly voiced by Jon Hamm — is trying to ram a highway through the area. But to Mabel’s alarm, the busy beavers who made the glade a haven for local wildlife have inexplicably vanished, and they seem to have taken all the other forest critters with them.

While investigating this disturbing situation, Mabel stumbles on a high-tech experiment that’s being conducted by her biology professor, Dr. Sam, voiced by Kathy Najimy. Dr. Sam calls the program Hoppers, because it allows a single human mind to enter, or “hop,” into the body of a robot animal, which can then pass itself off as an actual animal and communicate with real creatures in the wild.

Against Dr. Sam’s wishes, Mabel hops into the robot beaver and makes her way deep into the forest, where she hopes to convince a real beaver to return to the glade — and bring all the other animals back with it.

What Mabel discovers in the forest, though, is not at all what she expected. She encounters a community that includes birds, bunnies, racoons, a very grumpy bear and, of course, other beavers, including the friendly, somewhat naïve beaver king, George, endearingly voiced by Bobby Moynihan. (The movie takes the idea of the animal kingdom quite literally; the enormous vocal ensemble includes the late Isiah Whitlock Jr. as a royal goose, and Meryl Streep as the most imperious monarch butterfly imaginable.)

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Mabel Tanaka (voiced by Piper Curda) is a plucky 19-year-old college misfit and environmental activist.

Mabel Tanaka (voiced by Piper Curda) is a plucky 19-year-old college misfit and environmental activist.

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George has no idea that Mabel isn’t a real beaver, and he quickly takes a liking to her, even though her efforts to learn why the animals left the glade have a way of getting her and everyone into hot water.

None of this may sound too odd, especially coming just a few months after Zootopia 2. But Hoppers is just getting started; the movie gets funnier, stranger, and more surreal as it goes along. The mind-bending, body-swapping premise has obvious shades of Avatar, which Andrews’ script knowingly shouts out early on.

There are also references to classic horror films like The Birds and Jaws, and for good reason. Hoppers asks the question: What would happen if animals were fully aware of what humans have done to the planet — and suddenly in a position to do something about it? In the final stretch, the film almost becomes a body-snatcher movie, with a level of creepiness that may scare the youngest in the audience, though my 9-year-old laughed far more than she screamed.

I laughed a lot, too; Hoppers is full of funny throwaway lines and oddball non-sequiturs that I expect I’ll hear a hundred more times when it finally makes its way into our streaming rotation. The movie occasionally flirts with darkness, but even Pixar’s daring can only go so far, and its environmental advocacy ultimately lands on an unobjectionable message about how humans and animals can coexist.

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That may sound conventional, but it’s borne out beautifully by Mabel and George’s unlikely friendship, which happily continues even after Mabel is no longer a beaver. There’s something fitting about that: for Pixar, Hoppers is nothing short of a return to form.

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How to have the best Sunday in L.A., according to Jordan Chiles

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How to have the best Sunday in L.A., according to Jordan Chiles

Jordan Chiles is always in motion.

The decorated gymnast and two-time Olympian recently competed in the latest season of “Dancing With the Stars,” finishing in third place alongside her partner Ezra Sosa. She’s an ambassador for brands including Nike and Hero Cosmetics. In August, she launched a mentorship program called SHERO Athlete Collective for young athletes.

And in the midst of all of that, she’s finishing up her senior year at UCLA.

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In Sunday Funday, L.A. people give us a play-by-play of their ideal Sunday around town. Find ideas and inspiration on where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on the weekends.

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“I’m happy, but I’m also sad,” the 24-year-old says about her final year as a Bruin, adding, “It’s pretty cool to know that my dream school has become my legacy.”

Chiles is also in the thick of a legal battle to reclaim the bronze medal she won, then was stripped of, at the 2024 Paris Olympics. In January, the Swiss Federal Supreme Court granted her an appeal to reexamine the matter. “I’m going to stand for what is right,” she says. “I am doing the things to make sure no other athlete has to go through what I had to go through.”

With the Olympics arriving in Los Angeles in 2028, the question of whether Chiles will participate is top of mind for many fans. Her response?

“Right now, it’s just me and my college career,” she says, flashing a bright smile. “I think right now just being able to be a part of UCLA for my last season and then seeing from there on, from April until the next year, we’ll see what happens.”

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Chiles trains every day except Wednesdays and Saturdays, but on her perfect Sunday, she’d skip the gym to hang out with her dogs, take a trip to the mall and binge-watch her favorite shows.

9 a.m.: Gospel music to start the day

I feel like waking up at 9 a.m. is the perfect time because it gives you enough time in the day to do whatever, but also you didn’t wake up too early. The first thing I’d probably do aside from washing my face and brushing my teeth, is put on gospel music or listen to anything that can put my mind at ease. If I don’t have practice, then that’s typically what I’m doing, cleaning my house and starting to rejuvenate my body differently. I’d take my dogs out. I have an Aussie doodle, a teacup poodle and a maltipoo. Their names are Versace, Chanel and Dolce Gabbana. Very bougie dogs.

9:30 a.m.: Breakfast with a side of “Chicago Fire”

I’d cook for myself. I like typical scrambled eggs, bacon, avocado toast and sometimes a bagel. To get in some fruit, I’d drink some apple juice to make it feel like, “OK, this was a great, healthy breakfast.” Then I’d most likely sit on my couch and start binge-watching something. This is where lazy Jordan comes in. Like I got up, I did this, I ate, so now it’s time to relax. I’ve recently been watching all of the Chicago [shows] like “Chicago Fire,” “Chicago PD” and “Chicago Med.” I also recently started rewatching “Pretty Little Liars.”

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12:30 p.m. Shop for athleisure and other goodies

This is typically when Jordan feels like she needs to go shopping. I’d put my dogs up and go to the mall. I deserve to go shop. I deserve to go splurge. I like going to the Topanga mall. I really, really like Jamba Juice and there’s one in the Topanga mall. I used to know the secret menu by heart before they started putting it on the actual menu. My go-to is the White Gummi smoothie.

I love streetwear, so if there’s sneaker stores around, I’d check that out. I sometimes end up in an Apple Store, don’t ask me how or why. It just always ends up like that. If I need to get athleisure wear, I always go to Nike. You can never have too many Nike Pros. If I need to get my eyebrows threaded or my nails done, I can do everything at the mall while I’m shopping.

4 p.m.: Time for homework

I’m heading back home so I can beat traffic and let my dogs out. I’d probably sit on my couch, scrolling on Pinterest, trying to figure out what I’m going to eat. Then I’d start doing my homework. Since I am still in college, I’d start whatever I need to do for that week. I try to stay as organized as best as I can because it is hard being a businesswoman and still being a college student. I’d probably do homework for about 2 ½ hours.

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7 p.m.: Domino’s pizza and more binge-watching

I’d turn whatever show I’m watching back on, then I’d either cook or sometimes I’ll order in. It honestly depends on what Sunday it is. If it’s football Sunday, you know I have the wings and the typical Sunday vibes. But if it’s not, I might make tacos or Alfredo, or order off Uber Eats. I know this is probably crazy but I really, really, really, really love Domino’s. I am a pizza person. My Domino’s order is a small pepperoni, pineapple, olives and sausage slice … hand tossed, cheesed up, and then I will get a side of garlic knots and a side of buffalo wings with ranch.

If it’s not Domino’s, then I either will do Shake Shack or Wendy’s. I know it’s probably crazy and you’re like “Jordan, you’re an athlete,” but sometimes a girl just has to go in that direction. I like teriyaki food and hibachi places, so I’d either order from a place called Blazed N Glazed or Teriyaki Madness, or this place on campus called Hibachi Papi.

9 p.m. Video games before bed

I have an Xbox and a PlayStation, so sometimes I will go into my game room and just literally sit in my chair and play “Call of Duty” or “Halo.” Other than that, I have no night rituals. I will just make sure my dogs are fed. I always pray before I go to bed and my skincare is legit all Medicube, but I always make sure to do a face mask every other day before I go to bed.

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10:30 p.m.: Prepare for an early practice

Since I probably have to wake up the next morning for an early practice, I feel like 10:30 p.m. is a good time to go to sleep. Unless I’m doing something with my friends and we don’t get back until like 11:30 p.m., but other than that, I’m in my bed or at least on my couch just relaxing.

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No matter what happens at the Oscars, Delroy Lindo embraces ‘the joy of this moment’

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No matter what happens at the Oscars, Delroy Lindo embraces ‘the joy of this moment’

Delroy Lindo is nominated for an Oscar for best supporting actor for his role in Sinners.

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Rebecca Cabage/Invision/AP

Over the course of his decades-long career on stage and in Hollywood, Sinners actor Delroy Lindo has experienced firsthand what he calls the “disappointments, the vicissitudes of the industry.”

On Feb. 22, at the BAFTA awards in London, Lindo and Sinners co-star Michael B. Jordan were the first presenters of the evening when a man with Tourette syndrome shouted a racial slur.

Initially, Lindo says, he questioned if he had heard correctly. Then, he says, he adjusted his glasses and read the teleprompter: “I processed in the way that I process, in a nanosecond. Mike did similarly, and we went on and did our jobs.”

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Lindo describes the BAFTA incident as “something that started out negatively becoming a positive.” A week after the BAFTAs, he appeared with Sinners director Ryan Coogler at the NAACP awards.

“The fact that I could stand there in a room predominantly of our people …  and feel safe, feel loved, feel supported,” he says. “I just wanted to officially, formally say thank you to our people and to all of the people who have supported us as a result of that event, that incident.”

Sinners is a haunting vampire thriller about twins (both played by Jordan) who open a juke joint in 1930s Mississippi. The film has been nominated for a record 16 Academy Awards, including best actor for Jordan and best supporting actor for Lindo, who plays a blues musician named Delta Slim.

This is Lindo’s first Oscar nomination; five years ago, many felt his performance in the Spike Lee film Da 5 Bloods deserved recognition from the Academy. When that didn’t happen, Lindo admits he was disappointed, but he had no choice but to move on.

“I have never taken my marbles and gone home,” he says. “And I want to claim that I will not do that now. I will continue working.”

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Interview highlights

On his preparation to play Delta Slim

Various people have mentioned … [that] my presence reminds them of an uncle or their grandfather, somebody that they knew from their families, and that is a huge compliment, but more importantly than being a compliment, it’s an affirmation for the work. My preparation for this started with Ryan sending me two books, Blues People, by Amiri Baraka — who was [known as] LeRoi Jones when he wrote the book — and Deep Blues, by Robert Palmer.

DELROY LINDO as Delta Slim in Warner Bros. Pictures’ “SINNERS,” a Warner Bros. Pictures release. Source:

Lindo, shown above in his role as Delta Slim, says director Ryan Coogler “created a sacred space for all of us” on the Sinners set.

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In reading those books and then referencing those books, continuing to reference those throughout production, I was given an entrée into the worlds, the lifestyles of these musicians. There’s a certain kind of itinerant quality that they moved around a lot. The constant for them is their music, so that there is this deep-seated connection to the music.

On being Oscar-nominated for the first time — and thinking about other Black actors, including Halle Berry and Lou Gossett Jr., who had trouble getting work after their wins

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I will not view it as a curse, because I am claiming the victory in this process, no matter what happens. … In terms of this moment, I absolutely am claiming, as much as I can, the joy of this moment. I’m not saying I don’t have trepidation, I do. It’s the reason I was not listening to the broadcast this year when the nominations were announced. I did not want to set myself up. But I’m … attempting as much as I can to fortify myself and know in my heart that I will continue working as an actor. I absolutely will.

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On being “othered” as a child because of his race

Because my mom was studying to be a nurse they would not allow her to have an infant child with her on campus, so as a result of that, I was sent to live with a white family in a white working class area of London. … I was loved, I was cared for, but as a result of living with this family in this all-white neighborhood, I went to an all-white elementary or primary school. And I was literally the only Black child in an all-white school.

So one afternoon, after school had ended, I was playing with one of my playmates … And at a certain point in our game, a car pulls up, and this kid that I was playing with goes over to the car and has a very short conversation with whomever was in the car, which I now know was his parent, his father. He comes back and he … says, “I can’t play with you.” And that was the end of the game.

On the experience of writing his forthcoming memoir

It’s been healing, actually. I’m not denying that it has opened me up. I’ve been compelled to scrutinize myself. I’m using that word very advisedly, “scrutinized.” It’s a scrutiny, it’s an examination of oneself. But in my case, because a very, very, very significant part of what I’m writing has to do with re-examining my relationship with my mom. And so my mom is a protagonist in my memoir. I’m told by my editor and by my publisher that one of the attractions to what I’m writing is that it is not a classic “celebrity memoir.” I am examining history. I’m examining culture. I’m looking at certain passages of history through the lens of the “Windrush” experience [of Caribbean immigrants who came to the UK after World War II].

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On getting a masters degree to help him write his mother’s story

My mom deserved it. My mom is deserving. And not only is my mom deserving, by extension, all the people of the Windrush generation are deserving. Stories about Windrush are not part of the global cultural lexicon commensurate with its impact. The people of Windrush changed the definition of what it means to be British. There are all these Black and brown people, theretofore members of what used to be called the British Commonwealth. And they were invited by the British government to come to England, the United Kingdom, to help rebuild the United Kingdom in the aftermath of the destruction of World War II. My mom was part of that movement. They helped rebuild construction, construction industry, transportation industry, critically, the health industry, the NHS, the National Health Service. My mom is a nurse.

The reason that I went into NYU was because my original intention was to write a screenplay about my mom. I wanted to write a screenplay about my mom because I looked around and I thought: Where are the feature films that have as protagonist a Caribbean female, a Black female, where are they? … I wanted to address that, I wanted to correct that, what I see as being an imbalance.

Ann Marie Baldonado and Susan Nyakundi produced and edited this interview for broadcast. Bridget Bentz, Molly Seavy-Nesper and Beth Novey adapted it for the web.

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