Maori Karmael Holmes and BlackStar Film Festival
An origin story of rigor and form.
I hate being late. Yet, there I was. Stuck, on the highway, ticking closer to my interview with Maori Karmael Holmes, BlackStar Film Festival founder and Chief Artistic Officer. In its twelfth year, the festival is a platform for Black, Brown, and Indigenous artists working at the intersection of experimental film and social justice. I arrived ten minutes before our scheduled time, basically late and more than a little frazzled. I introduced myself and apologized in advance for any generic questions. “As long as you don’t ask me how I am.” She laughed nervously, and my anxiety melted.
Her tension was that of a person juggling a million things, smiling with ease as tiny fires erupted all around. From August 3 - 6, BlackStar screened a total of ninety-seven films, including short and feature documentaries, experimental features, and narrative-based works. Each day offered programming with directors and other industry professionals while yoga and a makers market offered respite amidst the busy schedule. I was thankful to have snagged such coveted face-time.
Holmes came to Philadelphia roughly twenty years ago to pursue a graduate degree in film studies at Temple University. Her matriculation, as she recalled, was not the most nurturing experience. “I was made to feel like I didn’t belong by the faculty, especially the department chair, so I channeled my energy into programming early thinking I wouldn’t make it as a filmmaker.” Despite the lack of support, her thesis project Scene Not Heard, which explores the struggles of women emcees from Philly, traveled the festival circuit for two years. Ultimately securing an educational distribution deal with Third World Newsreel.
Over the next several years, she continued to prove her professors wrong. She was named a Ford Foundation JusticeFilms Fellow, became a Creative Ambassador for Visit Philadelphia, and the inaugural Director of Academic and Public Partnerships for the Institute of Contemporary Art at the University of Pennsylvania. Holmes went on to serve as the Executive Director of Ava Duvernay’s nonprofit Array in Los Angeles. Upon returning to Philadelphia, she started a film and social justice series with current BlackStar COO, Sara Ebrahimi. In the summer of 2012, while Ebrahimi was taking a break, Maori, who self-described as “having no chill” produced a weekend event that became an annual affair.
Named for Marcus Garvey’s Black Star Line, the festival was founded on the idea of pan-Africanism and takes place in its given month as a nod to Black August. Despite these deep Black roots, the festival team quickly noticed a rising number of submissions from non-Black people of color. “It was happening in such a significant way, I was like we have to acknowledge this,” she explained. “Because Black people in the U.S. do have more representation than other people of color, we have the privilege that our festival doesn't have to be about representation…There are Arab, South Asian, and Latinx film festivals too. But, we are about form and rigor. We are trying to do this other thing, and people are attracted to that.” She added, “I remember my mother telling me that the Black Panthers were not dangerous because they carried guns. They were dangerous because they were organizing across racial lines.” With that in mind, a formal change to the mission was introduced in 2019, expanding to include all people of color.
Success for participating filmmakers was another early trend of the festival, “By the 4th year we realized we had become like a vanguard. There were people in the festival, and within the next year they were blowing up." She admitted, "You don’t know if it’s the chicken or the egg but there was a pattern, and we knew we should be documenting.”
Enter Seen. A print project under the BlackStar umbrella, it evolved from a festival program featuring short essays to a full publication edited by Dessane Lopez Cassell. My introduction to the festival came by way of the magazine. I was meandering through a hotel lobby and decided to help myself to an issue that was obviously there for the taking. Inside, I found essays, reviews, and interviews discussing film in a way that spoke to me. I was so impressed with the writing, representation, and aesthetic appeal that I decided to research the publisher.
Looking back on the festival’s growth, Maori explains “It’s important to note the first nine years were done completely part-time.” Everyone working on the team was employed from 9 to 5. “I remember this rich man said to me, you shouldn’t treat this like a hobby… I could have come across the table.” She lamented that, unlike venture capital spaces where projects receive funding for an idea, the nonprofit world needs proof of concept before an organization can garner financial support. Maori credits her second attempt in the consulting world with shifting the paradigm. “Having the consulting gig allowed me to broadcast that I was serious, and over that year, I was able to fundraise in a more serious manner,” she said.
Though it is a little overwhelming for Holmes to survey what she’s built, and to that point, legacy is the furthest thing from her mind. “I like feeling like there’s a constant kind of iteration to what we can do better… I don’t want to feel unworthy. I know there is a balance, but I find it challenging to be in the moment thinking of legacy. I don’t think that’s my job.” For Maori, the biggest concern is how people are treated and ensuring participants “show up for the universe" by putting their best work forward.
This spirit of tenacity permeated the most recent installment. A few of my favorites were Quiet As It’s Kept by Ja’Tovia Gary, a visual response to Toni Morrison’s book The Bluest Eye; Money, Freedom, The Story of the CFA (Franc) by Katy Léna N’diaye, which explores economic imperialism and its generational influence on the African countries colonized by France; and Before I Let Go a tale of gentrification told through a sci-fi lens by Cameron A. Granger. Capital directed by Basma al-Sharif, was another favorite for its clever and enthralling treatment of fascism in Egypt.
I look forward to next year and the 2025 seminar planned for Washington, D.C. If you missed the festival, you can check out panels and other programming here.