Marvel might have lost its shine and gauntlet tight hold on audiences but the world still needs superheroes. Riffy Ahmed’s The Call, a love letter to parents, posits that the heroes we truly need are perhaps a little closer to home than expected. The Call is an emotive example of elegantly contained two-hander storytelling that blends the themes of strained family dynamics, the struggles of single parenthood and concerns for a loved one’s state of mind, all with an evocatively woven dose of magic realism. Adapted from Vanessa Rose’s original stage play, which caught Ahmed’s attention in 2018, she transformed this mother-daughter narrative into a visually rich short that you can’t help falling for. Ahmed was featured on the pages of DN back in 2022 for her revitalisation of a mythological text through a BIPOC gaze in Medea and we welcome her back with The Call to discuss finding the perfect flat which would reflect her protagonist’s mind while serving as both a nest of safety and the jumping-off point for the film’s most dramatic moment, heightening the visual language of magic realism while maintaining the emotional core that makes the film resonate so deeply and battling with UK sunset light to catch that perfect magic moment for the film’s heart in throat ending.

How did you work with Vanessa Rose to turn the play into such an engaging and powerful short film?

I originally came across this story seeing it as a short play on stage and connected instantly: I literally saw myself and my parents, especially as I am a secondary carer. I knew in a heartbeat this is a story I wanted to bring to life in a film. I approached Vanessa to develop this further from a BIPOC perspective and she was wonderfully collaborative. One of the things I loved already about the story is how contained it is in that it takes place in one location, a home where an ordinary day becomes extraordinary when an unexpected secret comes to the surface. Vanessa wrote this story as a love letter to her mother (who raised her as a single parent), which moved me greatly. Thus, I was delighted when Vanessa agreed to work together in adapting this story into a short film where the absurdity and magic realism elements can be heightened visually in a tangible way. To believe Cora is really a superhero, the imminent danger of ‘reality’ and her daughter’s fear of her mother’s mental health must be felt. It’s a story we felt would resonate with many people in terms of family relationships and sacrifices we make out of love and acknowledge that every household may have a little superhero.

I wanted to rebalance the stakes and dialogue where it is shown rather than told yet keeping true to the heart of the story.

As a filmmaker, I wanted to bring this home to life in that it’s a character in itself and make the physical stakes of the story become very real. In the play the ending was a sound effect: ‘whoosh’ which made me laugh so much, but in my head, I thought I can make that action and vision real. Vanessa and I worked closely together to recalibrate the story by refining the structure and exploring the emotional dynamics and relationship between mother and daughter in terms of the misunderstandings and power struggles that can occur between a parent and child in terms of the sacrifices that are made to live a ‘normal life’. I wanted to rebalance the stakes and dialogue where it is shown rather than told yet keeping true to the heart of the story. I have always been a very visual and character driven director, so this transition felt natural to me in that it was unpacking the story to feel like a lived life.

This is an ambitious short and we all know the battles with funding, finding the right team and just getting these projects off the ground.

I was deeply committed to making this story come to life and knew I could generate a team for this (tapping into my fellow NFTS community), but naturally, the biggest challenge we needed to accomplish was finding money/funding to make it happen. We started our development in 2020, which was hard into the pandemic so we focused on adapting the script, getting producers on board (Danielle Goff and Susan Simnett – powerhouse women) and then exploring ways we could make it happen. We applied to various platforms and took the punt of applying to BFI Network, which we knew was going to be mad competitive. But to our delight, we were selected and co-partnered with Susan’s production company Over the Fence Productions to get a budget in place to get things in motion.

That looming tower block and, of course, the balcony which serves as a jumping off point for all the action are so perfectly London and fitting to the narrative.

Although this story is super contained as it takes place in a flat, we had the challenge in the story of building a bridge between reality and magic realism, in particular, a stunt that exemplifies taking the leap of faith. This meant we had to plan meticulously and search for a flat that had character but also a balcony with height and a view of a skyline that reflected the cityscape. It was important to show the strong contrast between the inside and the outside world. In addition to that, we needed a studio build for the stunt with a green screen.

We worked on transforming the space to reflect a family home but also a reflection of Cora’s mind, which is a cross between nostalgic and no self-care.

We had seen various flats in council high-rise buildings but had the luck of finding an absolute gem in the Trellick tower in west London spotted by our cinematographer Pep Bosch and exquisite producing from Danielle Goff. Working with incredible production designer Milly White, we worked on transforming the space to reflect a family home but also a reflection of Cora’s mind, which is a cross between nostalgic and no self-care as she’s been busy looking after everyone else and potentially the world.

I was particularly struck by the moment Cora is talking about her absences – were those all in the original play?

There was a version of this scene in the play, which was longer, but we tailored and refocused this to be from an immigrant/single parent and child perspective in the UK – hence identifying events and locations that would be relevant, i.e. Manchester riots. This new gaze looked at parents who did everything to save their children from a hostile world, even if it meant becoming a ‘superhero’ and saving the world too. It’s also about the kids that grew up with that love and hardship, constantly adapting to assimilate and ‘fit in’. Thus, these absences are a key space where sacrifices and misunderstandings are a fine line between reality and delusion, comedy and despair and the power struggles that can occur between parent and child. On one hand, you have the mother, Cora feeling liberated to confess her truth to her daughter who, on the other hand, is naturally agitated and concerned that her mother might be having another mental health episode as she experienced things differently.

It’s an earnest moment in the story, I am a strong believer that although family may be the closest people to you, they are more often the most mysterious people in our lives, in that many choices and actions can happen out of the act of love and sacrifice that is never spoken about. Like how could Cora possibly be a superhero is the immediate thought? But is it as far-fetched as one thinks when she did work hard and non-stop to make a life for them both? Also, the mental health pressures that both generations experience and the ignored sacrifices on both parts that can be misunderstood yet reveal that they are more connected than they know through a shared gift and strength.

Your use of magic realism is gentle, yet the perfect addition to the story. Was this always the way you wanted to portray the fantastical elements?

Yes absolutely! I had explored a few options, but my key aim was to start with a grounded sense of reality and then suspend it the more we get closer to Cora, the mother’s truth. This two-hander story is a real dance of reality so from the offset I wanted the outside world to be introduced via the daughter Athena, which is contrasted with the world in the flat, which is dishevelled, messy, a portrait of Cora’s chaotic mind. It’s clear she has been living a life on the go, fast food and not a lot of self-care. This home also reflects remnants of memories when it once was a family home which Athena lived in; old photos and dust laced cultural ornaments and of course, the retro yellow telephone, off the hook.

Energetically, I wanted a charged feeling in the air and this kicks into motion the moment Athena opens the curtains where the light and view pours in. For me it was the point the magic realism language begins as we see the curtains dancing in the wind, the dust and smoke from the incense Cora lights, twirling in weird shapes, a metaphor for time racing. I wanted the sky view from the balcony to be mesmerizing with an orange glow that bleeds rays into the apartment, feeling both warm and foreboding as this afternoon goes into sunset. The light played a big part in reflecting time but also revealing secrets in the shadows.

The biggest elevation from the play to a film was to make the home a character, a landscape that has real world stakes and consequences as well as being an uncanny nest of safety and nostalgia. I always wanted to generate a blurred line of ambiguity especially when the yellow telephone starts ringing – as there is a dual timeline of danger happening here, one the threat of eviction and the other complete world destruction. The Call as a title is multilayered also in that it’s about the call to action as well as the seeing the calling of powers and gifts we have, and the passing of them between mother and daughter.

The film made me laugh out loud as well as feel a deep sadness reflecting upon the mother/daughter relationship and the exploration of mental health. How did you work on balancing the reveal of our unlikely superhero with the seriousness of the subject contained within?

As a filmmaker, my journey as a storyteller has been unorthodox in that I started as an artist filmmaker and transitioned into fiction. I like to see myself as someone who is hybrid and can tell stories that are emotional, character-led, abstract and explore linearity as a spiral rather than a straight line. This story was an exciting challenge for me, firstly because it’s possibly the most linear piece I have done in terms of a chain of events but the most abstract emotionally where two characters are on a tightrope between joy and despair, reality and delusion. Being a carer myself to an elderly parent, it’s a path I navigate daily and felt I could lean into in exploring these nuanced moments where care, memory, logic and absurdity collide. I very much walk in Athena’s shoes in that my role reversed from being a child to a parental one, which is challenging as they still see you as a child and this is where power struggles can erupt. Comedy is often the coping mechanism in our household in that there is an acceptance that joy and despair sit side by side with each other; some days are good, and some days are bad, but we keep moving. I do think mental health and these subjects are not always openly talked about in many BIPOC communities, so this story was a great space to be able to unravel it yet in an entertaining way.

This story was an exciting challenge for me, firstly because it’s possibly the most linear piece I have done in terms of a chain of events but the most abstract emotionally where two characters are on tightrope between joy and despair, reality and delusion.

Now with The Call, this was also going to be the first comedy/drama I would direct, and with the personal experience of being a carer a key focus for me was to cast this with talent that bonded and connected with these themes. This is where script is king, in that we reached out to Jo Martin and Amarah Jae St Aubyn, and they absolutely loved the story and said yes straight away! When I met with both, I saw a beautiful connection between both actors, and they instantly bonded and looked out for each other like a mother and daughter. Jo is an absolute legend and has a natural flair for being naturally funny and Amarah can really brew deep emotional performances. Having worked so closely with Vanessa on the script and mapping out the emotional beats, it was a blessing to work with two fantastic actors who were so giving and able to transform the writing to life in a way that was very natural. I love working with actors in a very collaborative way and always strived to find natural moments that were funny rather than try to make it funny.

Your tones and colours are lush and vivid and there is a significant change in visual language as their relationship changes and the magic realism really starts to infiltrate.

The film was shot by Catalan cinematographer Pep Bosch on an Alexa Mini with Panavision Super speed vintage lenses. – he’s determined, hardworking and deeply passionate about cinema. It was an absolute pleasure collaborating with him on The Call, a story we both loved but wasn’t without challenges. From the offset, he was very attentive to manifest the vision I had as a director and we shared many common reference points in terms of tone, environment, and story perspective. We made countless mood boards and storyboards especially in developing the cinematic language going from grounded to ethereal. Prep was key and boy, do we like to prepare! As in doing so, if something needed to change, we had ideas on a roll to keep going.

Light played a big part in this story, not only to reflect time but also warmth and foreboding danger.

Although we are both visual people, it’s very much driven by characters, story and emotions and we worked in great depth collaboratively with our lovely production designer Milly White to build an environment that was a character itself that made an ordinary afternoon between a mother and daughter become an extraordinary one. Light played a big part in this story, not only to reflect time but also warmth and foreboding danger and I wanted to ensure this afternoon glow going into sunset was consistent and believable which is not easy when you are shooting in a high rise in London in September where the sky is often white and cloudy! We had to monitor the weather a lot to make sure we could get key scenes on the balcony at true sunset hours. In addition, our amazing colourist Caroline Morin took the film to another level by ensuring the richness of the space and the colours of time were reflecting consistently throughout.

Let’s dive into that leap, which is such a delightful surprise, and the VFX and stunt work you employed to pull it off.

Ah, the jump! When I had seen the play, this was something that struck me had to be real in the film. The jump represents a leap of faith, it’s the fine line between life and death and it’s a key anchor in the story between truth and delusion. I didn’t want multiple shots; I wanted one 5 second view from the back as the tipping point. Now we obviously didn’t have a blockbuster budget to achieve this, but that didn’t stop us from thinking creatively and our team embraced limitations to find an elegant and effective way around this. Essentially, the process was using a green screen on a partial set build of the balcony in a studio where we used both natural sunlight and studio lights. We had a stunt double do the jump onto risk-assessed jump mats and this was then composited on a clean shot of the actual balcony on location.

Our DOP Pep and I worked closely with our brilliant post-production team: VFX artist Nicola Borsari and editor Ami Aripin, where they looked at our storyboards and made clear that we would need to ensure we had the same lens on the camera and measure the same distance on location to the green screen set so that perspective was the same. This prep meant everything slotted very easily. It’s a lot for such a quick shot but it was totally worth it! Also, a massive thanks to our fab producers Danielle Goff and Susan Simnett who went above and beyond to make it happen.

I wanted the audience to be at the edge of their seat wondering before the symphony unravels.

The instrumentals, cymbals and music building in the background all resonate so beautifully and then we are disturbed by the shrill of the phone. How did you decide on the right sound and work with your composer to match the pace of the film as everything starts to ramp up, then of course our rapturous hero’s finale?

The process of music and sound is an interesting one for me as in the past I have tended to have more sound designed based score, but this is where the genius mind of our composer Joseph Stevenson comes in. He is extremely talented, and we had various chats about key emotional story points and of course the phone ringing is where the elephant in the room screams loud and clear. So, we had talked about some references, one being Birdman, and sonic palettes of instruments of drums, cymbals, guitar and earthy sounds that are eclectic and hint at the escalation of time and abstract emotions that hinted that this reality had another parallel dimension. Joe is wonderfully collaborative and a multi-instrumentalist and I loved how he brought hints of ancestral beats to really feel personalized to the story and its characters. As for the music near the end, it was about building emotional tension – is Cora/Wonder Dame telling the truth or is this mental episode going to end badly? I wanted the audience to be at the edge of their seat wondering before the symphony unravels, yet with the phone still ringing as if to say will Athena accept the calling she has discovered.

We have seen some strong female-led explorations from you. What’s next for your filmmaking?

I love to tell stories that are about characters at a turning point in their lives in a cross-blend of genre landscapes. Women and diaspora characters are central for me as I want to see more of my own and BIPOC communities on screen where people feel seen and realise, they are not alone. I am very much focusing on my next steps on elevating into long form storytelling in feature films and high-end TV. Shorts have been a great space for me to challenge myself and find my voice as a filmmaker. I am currently working on two feature length projects and an original TV series idea. And Vanessa and I are looking at making The Call long form, so watch this space!

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