Documentary’s Newest Forms: A Conversation with Inney Prakash

Another standout among the repertory offerings came from African American artist Christopher Harris, whose 2004 film Reckless Eyeballing combines archival clips from blaxploitation movies, newspapers, and Hollywood films into a monochromatic dissection of the white gaze. Accompanied by discordant music cues and looped movie dialogue, the 16 mm images burst forth in an abstract barrage of close-ups and suggestive gestures, creating discrete dramas around iconographic moments from Foxy Brown, To Kill a Mockingbird, and The Birth of a Nation. Not unlike Prismatic Ground itself, Reckless Eyeballing upends power dynamics and reorients the role of the spectator.

This year’s edition of Prismatic Ground, running May 4 through 8, will take place both virtually and in-person, a format indicative of a cinephile community finally getting back to theaters, as well as a gesture to last year’s 6,000-plus online viewers, many of whom live far from the festival’s home in Harlem. Coinciding with the festival’s sophomore run is a Criterion Channel series highlighting ten noteworthy selections from Prismatic’s first iteration. To celebrate, we spoke to Prakash to contextualize Prismatic’s unique role within contemporary film culture, the institutional hierarchies he hopes to collapse, and how he went about selecting the titles featured in the series.

Tell me about the genesis of Prismatic Ground. What gap were you trying to fill in New York or experimental film culture, if any?

I started programming at Maysles in November 2019, not long before Covid struck. As the pandemic took hold, I noticed that a lot of the larger film institutions were treating the online experience as merely a stopgap until the return to physical screenings. Few organizations were making an effort to rethink the experience. I saw an opportunity to fill a void, particularly in New York, where there have been festivals dedicated entirely to experimental film in the past, but there are none currently.

I also wanted to break down some of the unfortunate tendencies and dynamics of film festivals. For instance, I wanted to pay the filmmakers and make the films as accessible as possible. I think more people would be into experimental film if they had access to it, so none of the online films were geoblocked. Lastly, I sought to break down the hierarchy between features and shorts. Having the films online created more of an even playing field, in which a short film could be perceived as entirely valid in and of itself, and not just as a stepping-stone to a feature.

Experimental documentary has in recent years become the dominant mode of artists’ cinema. Was this something you noticed and wanted to highlight?

Yes, I also noticed that there was more of this kind of work being made than there are platforms to showcase it. For me, experimental documentary is currently pushing the boundaries of the cinematic form more than any other mode of filmmaking, so I wanted to create a platform that not only was dedicated to it but in and of itself embodies the values of many of these films. Many of these filmmakers tend to be interested in breaking down hierarchies, leftist politics, and a certain kind of humanism that reaches beyond empathy.

It’s certainly a departure from the ideas and forms of the modernist era of avant-garde cinema, or what P. Adams Sitney referred to as “visionary film,” made by artists who have since been identified and held up as pioneers in the official history of experimental film. You’re highlighting a much more diverse range of artists and perspectives.

I have a lot of respect for and feel inspired by the history of New York experimental film and those who have created platforms and built communities for this kind of cinema. But there are shortcomings in those histories, like the missed opportunity to use experimental forms to get at a more radical and inclusive way of living, or to express ideas that encompass not only the experience of marginalized people but also allow for people who have been historically excluded to use their voices in a way that is sharper and more meaningful than basic representation would allow. It’s not just, oh, here are films made by women and people of color. It’s here are films made by women and people of color that, because of the ways they eschew traditional narrative structures, are able to uniquely—and often, more authentically—explore the issues that affect marginalized people.

This year Prismatic Ground will be a hybrid event. Was there any consideration to go fully physical, particularly as most cinemas and festivals have gone back solely to in-person activities?

The first edition was created to meet a very specific moment in time, and that time has passed. That said, I was able to reach so many more people than expected by having virtual screenings. I got a lot of affirmation from viewers outside of New York who appreciated having access to this kind of cinema and wanted more of it. So I feel a duty to maintain that accessibility.

As for the programming, there seems to be little concern about whether a work is new or old, or whether something is a premiere or not—things that typically burden festivals.

Premiere status is another hierarchy I wanted to question. I find it more interesting to create a purposeful conversation between films—and to insert older work into the conversation—than to obsess over being the first one to show a new film. As someone with few resources, I wanted to distinguish my project by the particularity of my taste and the thematic tightness of my curation. I decided to split the films into distinct but loosely themed sections called “Waves.” They’re instinctual gestures toward general themes, ideas, and feelings that I see emerging from the films. For example, one was called “Desire Is Already a Memory,” a fairly obscure reference to an Italo Calvino novel; another was “Kill the Colonizer in Your Head,” a relatively straightforward nod to a protest sign glimpsed in Fox Maxy’s film Maat. So some themes are more obvious than others. And while I built these sections based partly on the new work I was seeing, I also had open submissions because I wanted anyone to be able to submit a film.

The selection of films from last year’s edition that’s on the Criterion Channel seems representative of your broader mission. Why did you choose these particular films?

It was very difficult! I wanted the program to encompass a broad spectrum of different styles, modes, and formats, as well as new films and restorations by both older and younger filmmakers. But representing different points along the experimental-documentary spectrum was a primary consideration. Something like Janah Elise Cox’s Melting Snow veers closer to what you’d expect from a more traditional documentary—though it’s still pretty experimental in its use of associative imagery rather than narration or interviews to unpack the legacy of Puerto Rico’s colonization. Alison Nguyen’s my favorite software is being here was originally a gallery installation and is much less likely to read as a documentary, yet I would argue it is one in spirit. I wanted people to get a taste of experimental filmmaking’s range of possibilities. 

Do you have any particular favorites in the program, or are there any titles you recommend that might be overlooked?

They’re all my favorites, but I do think there are some that could use extra contextualization. Loose Corner is an Alice in Wonderland–esque film by Anita Thacher, who passed away several years ago but left behind a magical body of work that’s ready for a new generation to discover. It was recently restored by the Academy Film Archive, and it’s been championed by some brilliant people, including Amy Taubin, who appeared on Prismatic Ground’s opening night stream to discuss Anita’s work. Amy did ask me how Loose Corner qualifies as a documentary, and my official answer is: “It’s my festival, I play what I want.”

Che Applewhaite’s A New England Document is a very clever example of anti-ethnography in the way it confronts a lineage of violent othering. Sasha Litvintseva and Beny Wagner, who made A Demonstration, are particularly adept at revealing the ways in which worldviews that are hostile toward difference manifest in much of what we consider modern, or “objective,” science.

If people take the time to watch these films, they’ll see connections that will have a profound effect on the way they see both movies and the world outside the frame.