Ava DuVernay etched her name in history during the 80th Venice International Film Festival, as her groundbreaking film Origin shattered barriers as the first-ever selection directed by a Black woman for the prestigious competition. DuVernay defied expectations by weaving a compelling nonfiction narrative inspired by Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist Isabel Wilkerson's Caste.
Building on her legacy of tackling challenging topics in American history through works like Selma and When They See Us, DuVernay brings her directorial prowess to the forefront in her latest film. In Origin, she navigates profound explorations of prejudice while weaving a narrative of love and grief in the face of personal loss. Her directorial prowess shines through in this epic portrayal of interconnected social hierarchies that transcends both time and geography. From the tragic killing of Trayvon Martin to the intricacies of Indian castes and the haunting echoes of the Holocaust, DuVernay seamlessly connects these disparate threads, offering a thought-provoking examination of the shared human experience.
In addition to exploring the filmmaking process behind Origin, we spoke with DuVernay about her collaboration with MasterClass. This first-of-its-kind class offers aspiring creatives and leaders a unique opportunity to witness the making of the film and learn from DuVernay's insights on authentic leadership, team dynamics, and achieving extraordinary outcomes. Filmed over six months the class showcases her methods for identifying, developing, and executing a vision toward success. Subscribers will have unlimited access to more than 200 instructors with an annual membership.
Read below for Glamour's conversation with DuVernay for an for an in-depth look at the film's storytelling, her directorial insights, the groundbreaking MasterClass collaboration, and the keys to achieving extraordinary success.
Glamour: Take us through the challenge of crafting a narrative for Origin that tackles weighty historical themes while remaining accessible to today’s broad audience, especially when there’s a prevailing perception that historical issues should be left in the past.
Ava Duvernay: One of the things that we did was make a conscious effort to infuse the film with emotional depth. Origin isn't solely a historical piece; it's a film where the contemporary narrative constitutes over 70% of the storyline. And so the history elements serve as punctuation marks, seamlessly integrated into the unfolding mystery our main character is unraveling. This strategic approach ensures that historical context is not presented in isolation but as an integral part of the broader storyline. And so with that, it's part of the construction of it to make sure that there are elements of contemporary romance, triumph, tragedy, investigation, and mystery that brings in the audience that may not have a taste for history. And by the time you come out of the film, you've experienced a bit of the historical context, but you've done it through a deeply emotional contemporary story. That's the construction of the film, and that's how we found people find their way, they find an entry point into it because we're dealing with present-day matters.
In the film Isabelle discusses confronting trauma, how do you perceive the role of storytelling in confronting, addressing, and healing societal wounds and traumas specific to America?
Well, as the character says in the film, trauma cannot be healed unless it's faced. I’m paraphrasing, but I truly believe that looking away from trauma is why America is in such turmoil. Because we don't excavate, we don't internalize, we don't explore. We don't learn. We don't acknowledge our shared histories. We deny, we defend, and we remove our gaze from matters that are wounds. And whether we're talking about the indigenous people, whether we're talking about histories of African American people, whether we're talking about Japanese internment, these things have happened and so often we turn away and we don't explore. Essentially, it's akin to therapy; we must sit down, talk about it, and delve into the discomfort to move beyond it. I’ve learned that creating imagery, especially with film around these challenging periods, allows people to navigate through them, fostering a collective journey toward resolution instead of sidestepping the issues, which unfortunately happens far too often.
As a filmmaker, when depicting Trayvon Martin’s final night in the film, you face the challenge of delivering a powerful message without triggering viewers, especially young adults of color who are increasingly affected by images of police brutality. How do you carefully strike a balance in presenting the narrative from Trayvon’s perspective to infuse depth and nuance into the storytelling?
I think inherent in the question I would ask that there's an acknowledgement of what you see and what you don't see. What you see are moments that were stripped from Trayvon Martin's legacy as it is shared by mainstream media. We only have George Zimmerman's voice on a tape—that is the historical record of that night. What the film does with the consent and blessing of his mother, Sabrina Fulton, is to give his perspective.
The film opens with him chatting with a friend on the phone and grabbing some candy. This introduction presents him not in a moment of trauma and turmoil but in a moment where his humanity and dignity remain intact. You witness him being stalked, criminalized, and abused as described on the phone, but watching the images reveals he is none of that. What I portray goes beyond the one-sided depictions in the press or public discourse, where only the killer's voice and actions are emphasized visually and sonically. And so in taking care of these images, whether it's the exonerated five in When They See Us, it challenges the skewed narrative about Black individuals. It aims to humanize them fully, delving into personal spaces like a mother's living room, capturing the essence of their experiences. And that's exactly what we did with Trayvon’s story.
The film has ignited discussions—how do you perceive its impact, especially considering the upcoming elections?
I don't know what tangible changes it brings, but I aim to contribute to a conversation we should be having more frequently. It's less of people in their political corners and a lot more of how are we going to live and how we want to live together. We all got to live together.
We all share this space, and if we remain divided, survival becomes a challenge, not just a utopian idea. And so the hope is that this film can contribute to those kinds of conversations and that people find their way to them and that it sparked something along those lines.
What’s been the most rewarding aspect of this project for you?
The camaraderie and sense of purpose in filmmaking are deeply fulfilling. It's a collaborative art form that I value greatly. I'm grateful for the chance to join hands with my crew and cast to create meaningful work.
What inspired your collaboration with MasterClass?
They approached me with the idea, and I always embrace the chance to share my filmmaking journey, especially because I missed seeing a woman, a Black person, and a Black woman actively directing on set when I was starting. When we agreed to the collaboration, I insisted on doing it differently—having cameras on the set to show the craft in action rather than just talking about it on a stage. It's the first of its kind with an embedded camera team, capturing everything from tense days to easy ones, planning, prep, and cinematography. Knowing that someone might watch and think, I might be able to do that, or I don't want to do that, made having them around a joy. Having listened to countless DVD commentaries in my learning journey, I understand the value of learning from others who've been through it.
In your MasterClass you stress the importance of creating a circular space within your team. What key takeaway do you want viewers to gain?
My MasterClass is about directing the life you want, focusing on leadership. I share insights on how to lead, how to give people the space to speak, and how to create an inclusive, circular environment. This applies to those who feel voiceless; I once did. I started my own company and made independent films with limited resources—that’s available to anyone while you're still waitressing, while you're a student, while you're in a corporate job. And there are many examples of creating your own, as my mentor says, liberated territory within your life. You still got to pay your rent, you still got to get to work, you got to do all the things, but where's the place in your life where you can be free, courageous, and dictate what it looks like? That's the empowerment I inherited from my parents, and I hope viewers take inspiration from it.
As the first African American woman to present a film at the Venice Film Festival, you’ve made history. How do you navigate celebrating this milestone while acknowledging industry challenges, such as the unequal pay highlighted by voices like Taraji P. Henson and Gabrielle Union?
I don't define it as an achievement. I don't define having a film that is worthy to be shown alongside other cinematic work and being in that space of being achievement. I think that it is regrettable that it has taken so long for some of these things to happen, but that's not because of me. It's not for me. It's not my responsibility. It has nothing to do with me. I'm going to make my work and I'm going to share it with the places that want to accept it. And I think it's regrettable that for far too long there have been too many places that have not seen the work of Black women directors as worthy of being shared. So it's not a celebration to the question. It's hard for me to answer because I don't view it as that.
How do you envision the film shedding light on present-day issues with what we see happening globally?
We can go country by country and talk about horrors and tragedies, and there's nothing that one film is going to do to change any of it. But people who watch the film, I hope a heart space opens up to feel more activated, empathetic, and connected to what's going on to people who are not us. And so that's what the hope is. I know that early on in my life watching films from where I was from, I would see films from around the world of people who didn't look like me, but who felt like me and the storytelling and the things that they cared about and the things that they desired and dreamed about and things that they worried about. And I felt like I was a part of the world. And I think feeling like you're a citizen of the world as a gift, and if there's anything in that film that leads people to that feeling, it would be a success.
