From Bold to Tender: How Philly-Area Filmmakers Are Meeting the Moment

This year, People Media Fund’s grant cycle for local filmmakers received over 120 submissions—a record amount. Ultimately, our panel of local filmmakers awarded 17 film projects with grants ranging from $10,000 to $30,000. With so many strong and timely proposals to consider, the process was both challenging and rewarding. As one panelist noted, “this experience presented me with the opportunity to have a close-up view of the fantastic quality of work being offered up by Philadelphia area filmmakers.”  

While the PMF team is not involved in grantmaking decisions for the Local Filmmaker Open Call, we certainly feel inspired by the awarded films and the clear commitment to social change these filmmakers demonstrated. We feel confident that these films meet the moment we are in as a country and will benefit audiences who are seeking joy, healing, information, connection, and more.

Below, four 2026 Filmmaker Grantees reflect on their film projects, their experiences, and their views on narrative power and film for social change. Finally, they share advice to funders who might consider supporting independent filmmaking or narrative work.

In a nutshell, what's the main inspiration and/or theme(s) at the heart of your film?

Imran Siddiquee: “ASHA” draws a parallel between a Bangladeshi immigrant's dying attempts to feel more “like a man” and their trans genderqueer child's search for connection with a parent who denies their identity. While both efforts may seem ill-fated, the film explores how, in a white patriarchal country where gender is always racialized, the latter is actually within reach. This longing for liberation is the urgent chorus of the film.

I draw from everything and everyone who has made me who I am, including family histories and the work of other trans genderqueer artists of color. When sitting down to write though I often start with Arundhati Roy's assertion that "another world is possible" or Mariame Kaba’s observation that "hope is a discipline". I want to end up in a place where those in my community who are most struggling will watch and feel a sense of possibility amidst seemingly impossible conditions.

Rea Tajiri: My film, “Non-Alien,” is an exploration of history, archives, and the continual flow of time. As I've grown older and deepened my understanding of life, I've come to see how marking certain historic moments and weaving them into storytelling creates a bridge from the past to the present—and ultimately reaches into the future. I’m hoping to push the imagination and to open the heart of the viewer to reflect on how their family histories can unsettle the official historic narratives we’ve accepted as complete.

Eric César Morales: In December of 2016, [my best friend’s father] Neil M. Wilson Jr. passed away of cancer. His father nurtured his son’s passions, instilling within him [and me] a love of films. [Over the years] my best friend and I have talked about parents and dreams fulfilled, but also, of all those kids who lost a parent too soon. We talked about the children whose parents were being taken away by a failing healthcare system and then we talked about the destructive immigration laws, targeting my Latino community. "A Blatino First Date,” was born of that conversation—the desire to show the world that society is in the process of taking away some of the most treasured memories a child could have and to encourage all of us to grapple with what that says about our country and ourselves. 

Xenia Matthews: “MAMABABY” was a seed that was first planted in my head after screening a short documentary I did in college. I made this film in the months following my first abortion to express pride in my decision. I had to say, “I didn’t want to be pregnant and that’s reason enough.” But I realized during a Q&A that the missing character in my reflections was my mom. My mom was a big reason why shame hadn’t silenced me. I always knew that by the time I was born, my mom had survived more than I can imagine. As a kid, somehow I knew not to ask about it. But after having my abortion, my mom told me everything about her life. She wanted to make sure that I value myself more than she was allowed to in her youth. At that moment, all barriers came down. That vulnerability was magical. “MAMABABY” takes that magic and runs with it. This is a film ultimately about return—returning home, returning to memories that’ve haunted you, returning to a self you thought you’d lost.

Do you see your film playing any role in building narrative power? If so, how?

Imran: In 2025 there were more than five times as many anti-trans bills in US legislatures than in 2021. The story told about gender-expansive people has been skewed by those in power over the last five years. An under-appreciated tactic has been an attempt to detach gender liberation from the fight against anti-Black racism. “ASHA,” as part of a lifelong project to challenge systems of domination, proposes a narrative intervention in how we talk about gender nonconformity. At a moment when the specter of “gender ideology” is being used to justify a variety of atrocities worldwide, I hope this film evokes solidarity amongst all its targets by reasserting a racial justice lens.

Xenia: Positive depictions of abortions are few and far between, especially featuring Black women. And none, that I’ve seen, even hint at how beautiful, life affirming, and magical that experience can be for us. Nothing taught me more about love and self-love than my abortion did. And when I mention that to other abortion-havers, they nod, sigh, or exclaim in agreement (the congregation says amen!).

This is a story waiting to be told — a story that will undoubtedly speak to the Black abortion-havers who have been shamed into silence. It’ll speak to families who’ve been sitting on secrets. It’ll speak to young people, elders, and everyone in between. It might be a call-in for some, and that’s alright. The sooner we’re able to connect the rescinding of bodily autonomy rights—reproductive rights, trans rights, freedom of movement and self determination—with The United States 400 year old obsession with control of our Black bodies, the sooner we can move toward a freer future.

What advice would you give other filmmakers?

Rea: Remain humble, be honest, interrogate your intentions, be generous, remember the process inevitably has stumbles. Gather your energy, take rest and keep going.

Xenia: Follow what moves you. Make strange choices and see what you like.  Listen to everything that goes on around you—the city streets have some of the best sound design. Sometimes it can do more than your visuals. Don’t second guess yourself. That artist’s intuition is a powerful thing. Respect it.

Eric: Film is collaborative. Elevate the people around you, and surround yourself with those who do the same. True success comes from treating each other well, and that’s the only way to no longer need to agitate for revolution.

Cultural worker and filmmaker, Toni Cade Bambara once famously said that "As a culture worker who belongs to an oppressed people [her] job [was] to make revolution irresistible." Do you see your work and the role of filmmakers as essential toward social change?

Rea: Toni Cade Bambara is living in our imaginations right now, especially after Louis Massiah's epic film about her life and work. She's still teaching us, still pushing us forward. I feel like we can move out on so many filmmaking fronts—participatory, challenging, committed, poetic, humanist, lyrical, collective, confrontational, experimental—our imagination is powerful. Film is one way to keep that imagination alive and active. That’s where social change and revolution begin.

Eric: As a person dealing with intersectional systems of oppression, I intend for my art to do just that. It intrinsically revolves around those brutalities and the tensions they create, pushing audiences toward reflection and self-directed social change. Not all filmmakers attempt to do that, for film is a medium that can serve as an opiate as easily as a catalyst. Additionally, it’s essential that filmmakers come from distinct and marginalized communities, because our experiences are grounded in discomfort, providing unique perspectives.

In her feminist writings, Gloria Anzaldua labeled this as “mestiza consciousness,” which is comparable to W.E.B. Du Bois’ concept of “double consciousness.” Both writers were activists responding to distinct historical and cultural conditions, yet arrived at a similar understanding—oppression places people at the border of two worlds, providing them with unique insight into where we’re coming from, where we’re going, and how we can find ourselves in a better world. Exploring that through independent film becomes an extremely powerful way to confront audiences with realities they have learned to normalize and to compel us all towards social change.

What advice would you give funders who might consider supporting independent film or narrative work?

Imran: If we really want to be supportive of filmmakers of the global majority we have to acknowledge that the "typical" way of making and funding movies was built to exclude us. So we can't claim an anti-colonial position and then penalize filmmakers who reject the colonial gaze or the "standard" path to becoming an artist. Film funders can be just as imaginative as they ask filmmakers to be.

Xenia: Don’t be scared of what you haven’t seen. Don’t be apprehensive if a film breaks form. That’s what art is here for. Does it excite you?! Does the filmmaker light up when they speak about it?! Have they done the work?! Do they have a distinct point of view?!  That’s enough to pursue that film. That’s enough to follow their journey. That’s enough to put them in rooms they may not be able to get into on their own. It’s enough to connect them to the right people.

You can give a filmmaker the resources and the mentorship they need to be successful but you can’t give them a voice, a point of view, a perspective. Hollywood has spent over a decade over-saturating our cinematic appetites with superhero slop and buying up intellectual property like it’s a finite resource. Why would we mimic their structure or their stories? Look for something different and you will find it.  

Eric: Independent film is where people take risks, where ideas grow organically, ones that represent lived realities and true ambitions. Big blockbuster films with large studio budgets can be fun. They can ignite fandoms and create dispersed and interconnected communities, but if you dig far enough back, you find that they started with one person trying to tell a story. Major studios no longer gamble on those stories. Independent films, though, that’s where creativity lives. This medium is the foundation of the entire film industry. It’s where people test ideas, cultivate their talents, and grow as filmmakers. 

******************************

Rea, Eric, Imran and Xenia—thank you for sharing such bold and tender stories with so much courage and care. Throughout this grant period I hope we can support your cohort as folks “test ideas, cultivate their talents and grow as filmmakers” together. And we look forward to amplifying each of you and your work.

For folks in the Philly area, we hope to see you at PMF's Local Filmmaker Community Screening this fall, where you can see a glimpse of films across grantee cohorts and join us to celebrate filmmaking for social change! 

Header image: Still from "MAMABABY" by Xenia Matthews