Representation of LGBTQ+ and people of colour in media is crucial to showing the reality of the world we live in. We’ve been misrepresented, ignored, mocked, and used as caricatures since the very beginning of TV and film; and quite frankly, we’re fucking tired of it. Myself, and many other artists from marginalized backgrounds have been far too patient in seeing fundamental change happen from the top. There’s this grassroots effort in the production industry, especially in the underground community, to create change on our terms and within our own communities. If change is to happen, it must happen as a community of LGBTQ+, POC, and women/femme artists first. Respect on a global scale will potentially come, but our intention should never be to create ‘respectable’ art for mass consumers.

In three years, we’ve gone from creating film productions and narratives centred around underground artists in our community to building a roster of filmmakers in Chicago, New York, Los Angeles, and now London. Our production studio has always prided itself on having the most diverse team of filmmakers in the world and it’s allowed us to produce work with intentionality and diverse perspectives. If anything, we’ve shown how unique a production company like Vam is, and I’ve seen the industry take note and adopt many of our common ethos. I’m not looking for credit but I am looking for action from the film industry at large.
Things like creating safe sets, starting our morning meetings by asking for preferred pronouns, standardizing equal pay regardless of gender and sexual orientation, including young aspiring queer and filmmakers of colour to shadow departments before they jump in the industry aren’t progressive tactics to us; they’re just who we are. Hollywood and the production industry are slowing catching on to these things and I think Vam has in many ways been leading the charge in the shadows.

All of them and none of them at the same time. I constantly think I’m a mess and I think it’s important to give characters of colour the space to be total fuck-ups. I forget to take my PrEP. Before I became a filmmaker, I was constantly reprehended for smelling like weed. I can count on way too many hands the number of times I’ve hooked up with someone and instantly regretted. I went to therapy and lied for a year because I have major trust issues. I used to deal weed to pay my way through college. I still sometimes am late on rent.
These are all scenarios that inspired many of the plot outlines for each of our characters in Damaged Goods. Me and my writers Zak Payne and KB Woodson wanted this to feel as authentic as possible, so we made it our mission to write from what we know. Anything outside of that was pulled from first-hand experiences from our friends.

Just a fun alternative inspired by Gaspar Noé. Many have replicated that title sequence, but I wanted to construct it under a queer perspective. In turn, you get a lot of pretty colours and ejaculating dicks cut quickly within the title.

Our second season is currently in pre-production and we plan to shoot in the fall. I think this is a huge accomplishment seeing as though we released the first season four months ago. We want to push the subject matter a bit further; we want more queer sex and nudity, more recreational drug use, trans representation, more celebrations of black and brown bodies absent of trauma and tragedy.
We’ve been contacted by a few networks and production companies in Hollywood who are interested in seeing Damaged Goods developed into a TV series, but before we’re thrown into the world of strenuous development deals, we want to continue to make art for the sake of art. Hollywood can wait, we want to continue to create this series for our community first. 

We’ve solidified a loyal support system and now it’s time to prove that we’re a cinematic force. In addition to expanding our roster of filmmakers in Chicago, New York and Los Angeles, we’re now looking for European filmmakers who would benefit from having our support system and resources. We’re refining our productions to prioritize short films, features, digital, and TV series with bold points of views. We’re also looking to produce several productions abroad, so establishing ground there with a respectable and intentional approach.

Although I admire the boldness of Skins, the series was/is incredibly white-washed. Damaged Goods is rooted in the queer POC experience. Our series isn’t rooted in trauma or tragedy, it’s centred around marginalized people and lensed by a crew entirely of women and femmes, queers, and people of colour. Us living and being our most authentic self is revolutionary, and I think that’s the beauty of our series. My goal is to really push this further for the second season.

I idolize Barry Jenkins and Moonlight is one of the most beautiful gifts given to cinema. Moonlight has and continues to normalize stories centred around atypical narratives from people of colour and I’m incredibly grateful for that. With that said, I would challenge the industry to open their eyes to queer and POC stories that aren’t rooted in traumatic circumstances. I want to see images of POC’s living unapologetically and celebrating life.

I think the filmmakers I admire the most are the ones who can steal from the greats but make it their own. Filmmaking is a privileged art form, created by and positioned for those with money and connections in the industry. I didn’t go to film school; my first introduction to the film community was while stumbling across a DIY film screening while studying abroad at the University of Barcelona, so watching films from Noé, Kar-Wai, and Andrea Arnold was my education. Pull from what you know but make sure to make it your own.

It’s always my aim to create balance but I’m shitty at it. I’ve learned that my life is atypical and it’s a realization that I’ve just come to accept. I’m a gay black filmmaker and entrepreneur with work being produced at an incredibly daunting pace. My creative philosophy is also determined by my team and managing all the energies that come with it. Many days I’m drained emotionally and mentally, many days I feel like a fraud, but I keep going because I know that my work means something to a lot of people out there.
I know I’m creating opportunities and getting a ton of marginalized artists paid well and above their rate at times. I know I’m funding dozens of projects that generate income within black and brown art communities. I know I’m creating a network and legacy that already will live long past me. I know I’m amplifying visibility for my community on a global scale. The balance might not be there but the sacrifice is.

Yes. I set out to make art for my close-knit community of artists and that turned into communities of people reaching out to hold screenings in South Korea, Australia, London, Berlin, and a few US domestic cities like Los Angeles, Portland, and New York. I see that these stories are universal and people are catching on quickly.

Yes. Sometimes, I envy how exciting it must be for my white counterparts to get questions that aren’t related to identity politics. With that said, I imagine that these words may hold great value to other, or younger, marginalized artists trying to navigate this industry alone. Growing up, I had no template or example of a black or brown gay filmmakers speaking unapologetically about their life. I know how much I would’ve benefited from hearing that perspective so I make it my mission (for the time being) to answer questions concerning race and sexuality and hopefully freeing someone else who may be going through similar circumstances. I never had that, so in many ways, I’m now that representation for my younger self.