Beneath, Between, Behind the Scenes: There’s No Resolution
M. Francis Enright is a filmmaker. His first short film, HR, was accepted into zero of the 23 festivals to which it was submitted. His second short film, The Routine, was nominated for Best Dark Comedy at the Georgia Comedy Film Festival. His third short film, Say Your Name, won Best Drama and Best Director at the Top Shorts Films Festival and has been selected for the 2024 Boston International Film Festival.
May, 2003: Park Slope Brooklyn, NY. Corner of Flatbush Ave and Bergen Street.
My roommate Chris and I were walking back to our apartment carrying some film equipment. Chris is a cinematographer and he was shooting my first short film, A Friend Indeed. A Friend Indeed was about an odd friendship triangle between three guys: Mike, Steve, and Dave. Steve and Dave are living together and Mike comes home from jail, rekindling his friendship with Steve and leaving Dave jealous and insecure. There is an undertone (or maybe an overtone) of romance which was intentional on my part, which I never resolved.
I dislike resolutions in films and novels. Nothing in life really gets resolved. It goes on and on, one event to the next.
A young woman of color walked up to us and asked, “Are you guys filmmakers?”
We said that we were and were working on a short film. She told us her name was Ebony and she was interested in film and wanted to help out. She gave us her number.
And help out she did. She acted in one of the scenes and worked as a production assistant, helping move equipment and other duties. All of it unpaid. She just wanted to be part of the process, which is pretty much the norm in the film industry. People work for free to make contacts which hopefully lead to paid work. I admired her for having the confidence to walk up to two strangers and make her interest known. Most people would never do that.
We didn’t know much about her personal life, but over the next few months it became evident that her living situation was precarious. One night after shooting she came out to a bar with us in the East Village and had a bit too much to drink and became less than coherent. One of the people with us, Caitlyn, looked in her bag and found a number which she called. She explained the situation to whoever answered and was told, “You can’t bring her here.”
Ebony ended up staying with one of the actors, Jeff, and his girlfriend who lived nearby.
After we finished shooting Ebony would sometimes show up at our apartment. She would hang out and chat. We would order food because it was apparent she was hungry and had no other place to go.
One time she came to a party and ended up staying for a few days, sleeping in my bed at one point, which relegated me to the couch.
It was becoming weird and uncomfortable. I’d like to think I have a generous nature but I didn’t know her. She also didn’t really know us. She was latching on to two strangers, two men, and staying at our apartment. I realize now, more than I did at the time, how limited her options must have been, but I didn’t feel like I was in a position to help her.
After a while, we stopped having her over. One night she rang the bell and I stuck my head out of the window and told her I was going to bed. I saw her on the street a few months later and she called out to me but I ignored her.
CUT TO: April 2024.
I moved to Massachusetts a while ago and Chris got married to a woman named Elaine and moved to Cobble Hill. I visit a few times a year to catch up.
Chris sent me this message:
Elaine and I belong to Park Slope Food Coop and work a variety of shifts to maintain membership. One of them is at the affiliated soup kitchen where their unsold food is given to those in need. My job specifically is to walk the long line that forms on the sidewalk outside and register guests for their breakfast and lunch (you would thoroughly enjoy this).
So I’m working the line and reach a younger girl. As I’m taking down her information she looks up and says “Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so, but I’m here pretty often, maybe that’s where you saw me.” It’s early March and bitterly cold. I have my full winter gear on, all you can see is the small oval of my face.
“No not here, did I see you on TV?”
You find a good deal of mental illness in the line so give them a wide berth. “Well I do work in TV but I doubt you saw me there.”
“Is your name Chris?”
Matty I just about fell over. I couldn’t even speak, just unzipped my parka and sweatshirt and showed my name tag on my innermost layer.
“It’s Ebony remember? We made a movie together. You and your roommate were the only people who were good to me at that time in my life.”
Now the others within earshot perk up. None of us could believe we made this connection after 21 years.
We chatted a bit more, like I say she never was able to find her path — living in the shelter on 3rd Ave, her ID was stolen so she was unable to find regular work. Most likely years of abuse and neglect in the intervening time.
I wished her well, told her not to let 21 years go by again. We hugged and she disappeared into the crowd.
Law & Order started shortly after, I haven’t been back since. When this show wraps next week I’ll be sure to seek her out again. Still floored.
Have fun with the boys and I’ll see you soon!
C
Could I have helped her? In a way that was meaningful, that would have changed her life for the better? That would have helped her with her mental health issues? That would have healed the abuse and neglect she had suffered? Would she have responded to my help?
Those aren’t the right questions. When people ask those questions they are just giving themselves an excuse to not help.
“Those people want to be out there.” “They want to use drugs.” “They don’t want to go into shelters.” “Even if you gave them a million dollars and a home they would still find a way to mess it up.” “Mental illness is complicated.” “Nothing I do is going to change anything.”
The question is: Should I have helped her?
The answer is yes. I should have been better to Ebony; I should have helped her more. I wish I had had the generosity, the humanity, the character, to be better to her.
There’s no resolution here.
There is only the next time.
I hope I’ll do better.
