Big Sonia Festival Teaser from Inflatable Film on Vimeo.
Documentaries, more often than not, are mission statements—delivery vehicles for important social, political, and cultural messages. As such, an awful lot of them come off as the cinematic equivalent of Eating your Greens. They’re good for you, but they don’t always taste good.
That’s a shame, because if ever there was a time in this country where eyes need to be opened to the loutish, horrific realities of our current socio-political climate—especially the way in which we’re edging perilously close to a bad cover version of Nazi Germany—it’s now.
Big Sonia, the latest documentary by Seattle-based filmmakers Leah Warshawski and Todd Soliday, is one of those rare birds that delivers a story (and storytelling) as cinematically satisfying as it is socially relevant. It follows the life of Warshawski’s grandmother, a 90-something spitfire of a woman with leopard-print style to burn, as she runs her long-standing tailor shop and lives her life. Sonia, as it happens, is also a Holocaust survivor who relates her story to high school classes, prisoners, and anyone who’ll listen.
The movie’s a wonderful study of a life well-lived, woven with the warmth, humor, and anecdotal richness of a fiction film. And with the ugly lesion of antisemitism re-festering at an alarming clip of late, Sonia Warshawski’s story is one that begs—no, urgently needs—to be heard.
I interviewed both co-directors for a piece elsewhere last year, when a rough cut of Big Sonia played at SIFF. Space considerations forced me to omit the insights of Soliday (also Leah Warshawski’s husband) at the time. But the finished version of Big Sonia plays as the 2017 Seattle Jewish Film Festival‘s Closing Night Sunday April 2 at the Stroum Jewish Community Center (a few standby tickets will be available, if you’re lucky and arrive early). And Soliday’s thoughts on the making of the film remain as cogent, funny, and interesting as they were last year.
You’re credited as the film’s DP and editor, as well as a co-director. What were some of the pacing and shooting challenges you faced on Big Sonia?
Keeping up with Sonia, filming days on end is exhausting, and I’m half her age!
Sonia has her own rhythm. And she is always moving. Rarely does she sit still, and even when she does sit, she has trouble with it and springs right back into action. This is something we consciously match in the film. As you watch and are drawn into her constant rhythm, when she does slow down, you know it’s for a reason. In our film those are the entry points into a deeper layer of her character. It is in those pace shifts you will hopefully see something personal, reflect on your own struggle, family–and then actually take something with you to challenge yourself.
This is a very visually accomplished documentary. Could you address some of your choices regarding the film’s visual palette?
Thank you, we’re really proud of this. And set out to make a film that is visually captivating. This film just had to be visually stunning. Sonia, and her “world”, say so much without talking… and she talks a lot! The visual is exactly what drew me into the project the first time I stepped into her shop. Her world is a menagerie of precious little things, each one deeply meaningful to her. Every spool, every machine, every pair of shoes she wears, and there many, many shoes, has a story. And we had unlimited access so we took our time.
I love the way Sonia is shot in many of the scenes—there’s an element of the mythic in how she’s depicted visually, and she’s definitely got style. Did she provide any input in how she was filmed?
Sonia loves the camera. She just is who she is, and simply lights up the frame whether we’re rolling or not. And she never once looked over our shoulders to see how she looks on camera. I think she just knows she’s gorgeous.
Sonia (center) with co-directors Todd Soliday and Leah Warshawski.
Yours and Leah’s previous documentary Finding Hillywood was a labor of love, but Big Sonia obviously has even deeper connections for you and Leah given Leah’s familial ties. Do you recall when you first heard Sonia’s story? And what was it like meeting her for the first time?
I do remember that exact moment I met Sonia. And I have to admit that right now as I respond to this question, the hair is raising on my arms and neck. Goosebumps, so many times with this project. I first met Sonia at her shop, just the way so many people have. Tiny. Loud. Huge. A force. I was immediately stunned by her. Right there on the spot I knew what I would be doing for the next 6 years of my life, and I went out and bought a set of vintage lenses.
The current climate of antipathy in certain pockets of America towards many marginalized groups parallels the climate that led to the Holocaust’s full-blown horrors. I thought of Donald Trump’s campaign more than once while watching the film.
We are keenly aware of how our film speaks to what is happening with politics right now. As Sonia says to customers, students and anyone who will listen: “Germany was one of, if not the highest culture in the world in the 1930s. And that happened??” [It’s] another reason why this movie is so timely.
Working with your spouse strikes some as a stressful, even untenable situation. How do you guys manage it?
This is probably what I am most proud of. Stressful? It just simply is not. I don’t mind saying that as a production and post-production team, what we have is rare. I am aware of this on every location, with every edit decision, with every snack that shows up on set. Leah is the real deal. She’s just so smart. I just push buttons, turn some dials, make sure the blinky lights are blinking and that’s somehow magic to her. Lucky me. Did I mention that she’s so much smarter than me? Yup, I remind her of that every day. Hear that, Leah? Oh, and she brings good snacks.
