Filmmaker D. Smith Found Subjects With 'It' Factor for Doc 'Kokomo City'

Black, transgender filmmaker D. Smith used to be a music producer, and, with two Grammy nominations, she was highly successful. Then came the day she transitioned, bringing her presentation and public identity into line with her gender identity – and her career was abruptly in decline.

It's senseless and infuriating, but Smith, exhibiting the kind of resilience and fortitude that trans people in this country are increasingly required to possess simply to survive, handily reinvented herself as a filmmaker. With her first feature-length film, the documentary "Kokomo City," Smith shows her natural instincts for the medium. The movie features four Black transgender sex workers – two in New York City and two in Atlanta, Georgia – and they have no problem telling Smith's camera exactly what's on their minds.

These women may use direct language, but they also communicate a college course's worth of complex social analysis about the paradoxes of their work and the society in which they ply their trade. Violence is an ever-present threat, but when it happens, one of the women notes, it's always "after the orgasm." Another interviewee talks, with some exasperation, about how Black society denies queer Black people. "We are always existing around systems of who we should be for someone else," is how the situation is summed up. "We've normalized letting grown men take advantage of our bodies" – not a specifically trans statement so much as a feminist one.

The film represents a powerful intersection of identities in a world where trans women suffer an inordinate amount of male violence. Tragically, one of the interviewees – Koko Da Doll – was murdered last spring in Atlanta. The suspect in her shooting death is a young man of only 17 years. "This is survival work," one of the women tells us. "This is risky shit." The words ring in your ears.

Elsewhere, there's advice for how to deal with anti-trans sentiment: Lean into it. "If you go hard, who's gonna say anything?" one interviewee muses. "Don't live a double life."

Smith also seeks out the perspective of the male clientele. "I'm a ladies' man," one "trans-attracted" fellow states, adding, "I like all women."

The issues addressed in this 70-minute movie are pervasive and complex. The film is shot in black-and-white. The images and settings, while simple, have a power of authenticity about them. The words are powerful; the pictures (portraits, really) are more so.

D. Smith spoke with EDGE about her creative choices for the film, and her own creative journey.

EDGE: The film is visually striking in black-and-white. Why did you choose to shoot it this way?

D. Smith: Thank you. I thought something as contemporary as "Kokomo City," that dichotomy between the girls, their grit, their truth, even visually, you know, I just thought to elevate this with black-and-white would be so fun. You're used to seeing these stories done in such an expected, clichéd kind of way, and to make this a fun film is what my goal was – to just go out and do something different.

EDGE: The film has a unique energy – a frankness that I haven't seen in documentary films very much. Was that something the women you interview brought to the table? Or did you say to them, "Let it loose?"

D. Smith: Absolutely, and no pun intended, I said, "Let it all out." I told all of them, "If I feel that you're straying away from yourself and the authentic way you speak, I'm gonna stop you. You're gonna just take a breath and start over." I didn't have to do that very often. These girls were so excited, and dove right into it and committed all the way through. I think it was very refreshing for them to have the opportunity to just be themselves.

EDGE: How did you come to bring these particular four interview subjects into the film?

D. Smith: It was important for me to find people with star power – with presence. That's something I love to do, even when I was doing music. I always seek out star quality. And with film, I think it's the same way: You want interesting people, you want people with that "it" factor. That can be the way they look, the texture of their voice, their humor, or their physique. All of these things played a part in what I chose, but I also didn't want to just pack it with a bunch of glamour queens, either. I wanted to strip this down and say, "Hey, there's not going to be a glam squad. Number one, we can't afford it. So, there's not gonna be makeup and hair and special lighting." But it ended up being beautiful.

EDGE: How about the guys that you talked to? Did it take some time to get to the point where they would open up on camera?

D. Smith: It was the absolute opposite! Every single guy was so excited to do this. I don't even know why. It was so inspiring: These men are so confident and balanced emotionally to speak and defend and honor and project who they are. Like, finally, Black men that are stepping forward for the dignity of trans women, that are not being shamed out of coming out, or running out of a hotel room, or being posted on a blog. This was very new. This is very different, and I think that it hopefully will create a new trajectory for how we tell our stories.

EDGE: Before making this film, which is your debut feature length film, you were in music, and there are traces of that earlier career in this movie. One of the men you talk to is the songwriter LØ, and you also title this movie after an old blues song.

D. Smith: Music, just like film... you could create a world that hasn't existed. You can create a world and push people's boundaries of imagination, and that's what music does. I wanted to use music to manipulate people's expectations.

Kokomo Arnold was a writer that wrote a song called "Sissy Man Blues," and I use the song in the film, but I didn't want to title the movie something that would play off of "LGBT" or "gay" or anything. I wanted something understated, and something more approachable and creative.

There's a huge story there. You know, here's Kokomo Arnold back in the 1930s, [writing] a song called "Sissy Man Blues," basically telling God, "Hey, if you can't bring me a woman tonight, bring me a sissy man." That's 1930s, a Black man! This notion that there's this "gay agenda" all of a sudden – people have been gay a long time. People have been transgender a very long time, and it's a part of who we are. And it's a part of the Black culture, whether we want to accept it or not.

EDGE: Transitioning meant that your career in music got somewhat derailed. Have you found filmmaking to be a more accepting medium?

D. Smith: Oh, yeah. Music was great. My music career was fine until I transitioned, then [it was no longer] great. [Filmmaking] is the opposite. I am coming into this industry as the woman that I've always wanted to, without having to prove myself or sell myself or look for permission. However, I don't want to box myself in as a filmmaker. I do have other things coming up that will allow me not to be [boxed in], but I think it's very important for me as a creator to stake my claim in this industry. This movie is going to allow me to do that.

EDGE: Your interview subjects bring in so many aspects of the trans experience that we might not necessarily think about: cultural aspects, political aspects, aspects around race. Given the political climate in the country, it seems like you couldn't have brought this movie to us at a better moment.

D. Smith: Yeah, because where's the narrative gonna go? After 10 years of saying, "Please stop killing us," or, "Please don't take away our medical opportunities," or "Please don't fire me [for being trans]," what more can we possibly say? Sometimes it's not about what you say, it's about how you say it, and I wanted to say it differently. It was very important for me to create the space for myself, and for the girls and for the guys, to say it differently. It is very evident that there's a new space for us to do that, and, hopefully, creatively, in the future it could go even further.

EDGE: I wanted to offer my condolences that one of your interview subjects, Koko da Doll was murdered earlier this year. It's so tragic, and that sort of violence happens far too much.

D. Smith: Thank you so much. She will live on forever.

"Kokomo City" is in theaters. For more information, visit the film's website.