By Elijah Jagne
For about as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to work in film and television. Growing up, I had an extraordinarily hardworking single mother who did anything and everything in her power to ensure a good life for me. Because of her very busy schedule, I often spent the majority of my time in front of a TV, laptop, or in a movie theater. And frankly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Through the film, television, and other forms of media I consumed from a young age, I got an image of the world I don’t think I would have otherwise. That is the absolute beauty of media. It is an opportunity to be introduced to scenarios, concepts, places, and emotions you may not have experienced yet.
And that’s why I always wanted to tell stories through these mediums. If I could introduce future generations to new concepts, ideas, feelings, and have even ten percent of the impact on others that media had on me, that would be worth it. Roger Ebert once called movies “empathy machines.” I think about that a lot.
This preamble is all to highlight how important the work I’m doing in Ghana is to me. And I want to emphasize that. This is important to me. But in the grand scheme of impact, the work my colleagues are doing in journalistic media is undoubtedly and undeniably more important. They’re doing everything from reporting to political lobbying to advocating for reproductive rights. My colleagues are doing incredibly essential work here in Ghana.
Me?
I’m working on a telenovela soap opera… and frankly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I don’t think I’m allowed to name the show, but I can say that it’s been an absolute blast. The hours are long and grueling. It’s occasionally tedious and repetitive, working on the same scene and hearing the same dialogue over and over for what feels like an eternity. That’s not even mentioning standing in the sun holding a reflector while I get the most insane farmer’s tan of all time (seriously, you can’t even imagine). And yet, it is everything I want to be doing with my career.
What’s been so important for me is the confirmation. I’ve always thought I wanted to do this work. In fact, I thought I knew I wanted to do this work. But you can never truly know until you actually do it.
Thankfully, I was right.
Every day, I wake up to a text with a new location, a new set of scenes to shoot, and a new story. It’s constantly novel, constantly new, perpetually fresh, like the milk of dreams. For my easily bored, ADHD-riddled brain, it’s heaven.
In my first week, we shot at a mansion in the most affluent neighborhood in Ghana, a dingy, unfinished warehouse, a vibrant outdoor arts market, a dusty local soccer field for the neighborhood kids, and, most recently, a beautiful nightclub. Each location served a different purpose in the story, and each one was a completely different experience to work in. I loved it.
Somehow, I was roped into actually having a role in the show. I have a whopping four lines, and that is more than enough to stress me the hell out. It brings me a whole new level of respect for the actors, who have to come to work each day with entire scripts memorized.
Speaking of, the cast and crew are so incredibly cool and kind. I’ve come to really respect
and enjoy all of their company in just the first week. At one point on my first day, Ghanaian movie star Kweku Elliot asked me to take a picture with him, instead of the other way around. Said he “wanted a picture with the next Spike Lee,” which was a welcoming vote of confidence for him to give to some guy he’d never met.
The director and mastermind behind the entire company I’m working for is a really brilliant guy named Ivan Quashigah. Watching him direct and command the set is interesting, informative, and will absolutely help me if I ever find myself in the position of directing something larger than my own small short films.
One of the most eye-opening things Ivan has done is introduce me to a world of African auteurs. These were filmmakers I had never heard of. Filmmakers we don’t speak about in our film classes, despite their excellence. One such filmmaker was Ousmane Sembène, a Senegalese filmmaker who made a number of films in Wolof, my father’s mother tongue.
One of those was a dramedy I watched just the other night called Mandabi, which was absolutely excellent, and I’m kicking myself for never having seen it. But Sembène is just one on a list of many, and I have a lot of catching up to do. Anyway, I’m sure I’ll have more to report in the future. But for now, I have some lines to memorize for my big acting debut tomorrow.
