“Don’t Go, Not Yet.” - The Unforgivable Reality of Time

“Don’t Go, Not Yet.” - The Unforgivable Reality of Time

Anissa Deol 

Fade In.

A heaviness wakes her from her sleep. Her breathing is shallow, and it feels like a weight is sitting on her chest as she sits up. The room is silent, and the white walls seem bare. Moonlight shines in through the slit of the white blinds, and she sees her shaky shadow reflected. Her thoughts are loud. Is she running out of time? Am I running out of time? Will the film even be able to be finished? 

These questions barrage Debbie Vu anytime she isn’t behind a camera. She is making the most important film of her life, a project launched in the middle of a pandemic, but is worried about one thing. Can she make the deadline? 

(Scene one, take one).

Vu, a UNC Chapel Hill alumna, is an award-winning narrative and documentary filmmaker who is based in Durham, North Carolina. She has produced over 20 short documentaries for nonprofit organizations and has held the role as director, producer, screenwriter and editor for a majority of her films. One of her films, “Women in Clinics” was about women living in Malawi with AIDs and using Procter and Gamble products to keep their water clean. She tells one woman’s story, Lusiya, of how she has to walk five hours once a month to get the P&G packets to keep her water safe. On top of that, Vu has founded a multimedia company called Iron Worx Media, and now has the ability to take part in co-creation with interns and local filmmakers. Without filmmaking, she believes, there would be a lack of visual art and representation. 

Being Vietnamese and a child of refugees, Vu emphasizes how important it is for her to create media and prioritize people of color. She even urged her mother to write her own stories so that if something severe happened, she would always have her those words close by. She was an example of what it truly meant to make it as an immigrant.  

Narrative and documentary work bring unique stories to the table for her as a multi-talented creator. She couldn’t see herself working in any other industry.  

“One of the things that stands out to me most is her desire to be equitable and inclusionary in all aspects of filmmaking,” said Aviva Dawn, a filmmaker who achieved her directorial debut in a film that Vu produced. “There's something about working with Debbie that is super fun and unique to her. She has a keen eye for gathering teams.”

But when her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2017, it felt like the ground beneath her was cracking and there was no safety net. 

She couldn’t believe the news. She didn’t want to. 

(Scene two. Take one).

Even before her mother’s diagnosis, Vu wanted to work on films that her parents would be able to understand. “I don’t know if they are proud of me,” she wistfully said. Neither her father nor mother have watched a single one of the 20 documentaries she has produced because they are all in English. Her work was lost in translation between English and Vietnamese and the gaps were never truly closed. 

She only had the company of her siblings growing up because her parents were pursuing the American dream. They were never around because they were always working to provide. There was no food without a paycheck, and their stories were lost to achy bodies and late nights. 

(Scene three. Take one. Close up shot).

But then, they were always around. 

In 2014, Vu was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and hospitalized because she had manic episodes. Her creativity was sucked out of her and she could no longer hear her inner voice anymore. “I was scared to dive back into the creative storytelling aspect of filmmaking,” she said. “I think I was scared of failure.” 

And she was not the only one in pain. 

“They hurt, and that was heartbreaking for me,” Vu said as she started to get emotional. “They supported me every step of the way, and I could not have done this without my parents.” Every day, when she was in the hospital, they would visit her. Not many people have a strong support system like Vu’s, and that was what stuck with her the most. She was fortunate enough to have parents who stood by her during this painful time.

This was one of the many reasons why Vu wanted to make a narrative film on her mother. And that was when “Ma’s Kitchen” was put into the works.

(Scene four. Take one).

At first, she wanted to make it a documentary film, but eventually realized that her mother’s story fit more into a narrative-based film because each scene had a lesson. “My mom was always giving me advice and I really wanted to show the progression of my life alongside her,” said Vu. She wanted to honor her mother’s story by fusing both English and Vietnamese and showing how children of refugees and immigrants face this language barrier. 

“I call it a video love letter,” she said as her eyes glistened with passion. “My mom is inspiring, and we want to support her in these last few years that she may have.” 

It feels like a countdown clock for Vu and her family, like time was moving faster each day, but COVID-19 didn’t care about deadlines. 

(Scene four. Take two). 

The pandemic pushed Hollywood’s biggest summer films forward to a year or two, and movie sets were shut down everywhere. More than 7,000 movie theaters shut down and the film industry came to an unforeseen halt. 

Production for “Ma’s Kitchen” was meant to be done by last summer, but there was no way for Vu to reach that goal because of COVID restrictions. The nature of filmmaking is having a strong and robust crew, but there could be no more than 10 people on a set. The actors were spread out and plane tickets were unavailable. Others were afraid they might get COVID on set and refused to take part because of the risks. It seemed like this film would be shoved into the confines of darkness and gather dust over the years as Vu’s mother lost more days.

But suddenly, it dawned on her. (Wide shot). “I’ve been working with small crews for documentary work my entire career, and we just have to keep it small and make sure people are taking extra care.” She had to cancel shoots and push dates back, but fortunately the cast and crew for “Ma’s Kitchen” always had negative test results. Her priority was making sure people felt safe by helping her cast and crew out, even if it meant paying for the flight for the lead actress.

COVID had added masks and social distancing, but it hadn’t taken away Vu’s storytelling spark. “On set, Debbie is organized, efficient, and focused,” said Casey Neiman, a local filmmaker who has worked with her on various films. “She wears many hats on set, and her natural directorial skills shine through.”

Vu also said that the amount of time she had in quarantine allowed her to get more done. She realized that more writing could be done in the privacy of her home and that pre-production could be started right beside her wobbly kitchen table. 

It gave her a purpose in quarantine. Creating meant more to her than ever before. 

Watching television or consuming cinema allows for people to escape the confines of reality. “It’s very special,” says Vu, and she is excited to be a part of this new dawn where representation and all stories, from all backgrounds, matter. “The beautiful thing about filmmaking is that you can do whatever you want.” During this time away from the world and bustling streets, Vu revisited what made her fall in love with storytelling in the first place. 

(Cue flashback).

“My hero was Sarah Dessen,” she said, fangirling over the fact that she got to meet her during her freshman year at UNC Chapel Hill. Since Dessen had deep ties with UNC, Vu believed that it was destiny that made her move to North Carolina. “That moment, when I was reading her bio, I was thinking ‘Oh my god, that’s why I’m here. My hero, the one who inspired me to write, went to school here.’” 

At 12 years old, she wrote her first book. At 15 years old, she became a student director for her high school beginner theater arts classes. As she moved into her college career, she took her first screen writing class and realized that if the page was blank, so was the screen. 

She wanted to share her passion and love for directing and writing because without it, her voice would be lost among the other unheard creators. 

“I am a Vietnamese American woman, daughter of refugees, with a mental illness surviving all sorts of abuse,” Vu said. “I’m a survivor.” People are demanding for more representation on and off screen, and “it’s about time,” she added. 

Sydney Peregoy, a UNC alumna who interned with Vu said, “Debbie was always warm and welcoming and made me feel like what I had to contribute was important, something that differed greatly from a lot of the male dominated screenwriting classes I was in at the time.”

A new era has emerged in the industry of cinema and the creative world. Vu is excited to see more artists, like herself and her co-workers, gain more media attention and more opportunities instead of the white individuals being the face of the entertainment industry. 

Time is on her side, but she is worried that it will not be as kind to her 61-year-old mother. 

(Scene five. Take one).

Going through chemotherapy has made her mother’s health conditions worse. Her hands and feet feel like pins and needles and she is rapidly losing her teeth. With her and her family not knowing how much time she has left, Vu also has this over looming shadow of tension above her constantly. There is a deadline ahead, sitting on a fragile wire, that could easily snap any day. 

Vu is prone to manic episodes so she has various ways of coping with the stress. Practicing yoga and writing in her free time helps her focus on the specific things she needs to get done. But “life is a rollercoaster, and you just have to hold on for dear life and ride it out,” she said.

Uncertainty is a common trait as a filmmaker, and it’s something Vu knows too well. In the past, when she didn’t get a grant or win a certain amount of prize money, Vu had to produce films out of her own pocket. She doesn’t get paid every time she volunteers her services, and it’s tough for her. But she is always saving. “I’m so used to working with small budgets that I know I can save enough money to produce a film,” she said.  

She has learnt to be comfortable in the uncomfortableness because life is full of curveballs and rejection emails. 

Sometimes the doctor says it’s 10 years, and the other time it is five years. “I don’t know how much longer my mom has in this world,” she said. “But I really want to get this done before anything happens to her because it touches on mental health, cancer and granddaughters, which my parents have now.” 

Vu doesn’t want her mother’s story to just disappear. She wants it to impact her audience, regardless of the added subtitles, just as she had been impacted growing up. 

“This piece is so special to me and my family, and I want her to be proud,” she said. “I want her to stick around because I have so much to do and to show her.” 

End scene. Fade to black.