Tony award-winning actress and author Tonya Pinkins has written, directed and produced her first feature film, Red Pill. A political thriller, the film was designed as a scary wake-up call that shines a bright light on American politics.

The television, film and Broadway star decided to step behind the camera and use her voice as an artist and storyteller to paint a vivid picture of the grave repercussions that the current political climate in America has on the country’s people.

‘RED PILL’ POSTER. © DAVID REINFELDER

The film features the work of a talented cast and crew, including eight-time Grammy award-winning Latin music star Rubén Blades (Fear the Walking Dead), Catherine Curtain (Orange is the New Black, Stranger Things, Homeland), Kathryn Erbe (Law & Order: Criminal Intent), Tonya Pinkins (Fear The Walking Dead, Madame Secretary), Colby Minifie (The Boys, Fear the Walking Dead), Luba Mason (Person of Interest, NYPD Blue), Jake O’Flaherty (Criminal Minds, Shameless) and Adesola Osakalumi (Sex & The City 2, Ice).

Red Pill is currently in post-production and is set for release this autumn.

For more information, visit: http://redpillmovie2020.com/

What is Red Pill about?

As a plot, it’s about a group of progressives – that would be our blue in America – going to canvas the weekend of the 2020 election and confronting the red opposition that is determined to stop them in their mission.

I made this story because I’ve been watching my country become a dictatorship for a very long time. And I think when you live in New York City, where they just think they run the world, there’s a kind of delusion that people have and so the movie for me is about the disconnect between liberals, the blue, and their believes about themselves as opposed to the people who are the conservatives, the red, who are very committed, very organized, very structured, who know what they want and take action.

Even in the way I wrote it, the red pill women don’t ever speak until the final scene. Whereas the blue people, they’re just always talking, they’ve got theories and they’ve got ideas and then when the violence begins, they don’t know what to do! [laughs] Which is how I see my country right now. Essentially, civil war began in Portland. Our president had US military attack US citizens. It’s already happened and nothing has been done.

At the time that I wrote it, some people thought, ‘Oh, gosh, you’re so far out, Tonya!’ And now we’re kind of there. And so, in a way, there’s this part of me that feels like, ‘I’m making a movie, but we’re living it.’ When I wrote it, I felt that it was coming and I thought, ‘Well, this can be the wakeup call, but it’s too late for a wakeup call.’

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Was the film inspired by the recent developments in American politics or has this story been at the back of your mind for a while now? 

It’s been at the back of my mind since before Obama was elected. Just watching how America’s leaning very far to the right politically. The majority of people in our country want health care for everybody and fair wages, but the people in power don’t want that. And the people who don’t want that have the most money and there’s been a lot of ‘red pilling’ – which my movie is about – of even what we would have thought of as our organizations that uphold equality, like the ACLU (American Civil Liberties Union). They were very strongly for this thing called Citizens United, which made money speech. See, I can’t support the ACLU when someone clearly from the other side got into the ACLU and dominated to push that agenda through.

I think that that’s happened in more and more places and I really just feel like I need to get out of the country. So it’s like, ‘Get your movie out. Get out of the country.’ [laughs]

You play the role of Cassandra. Is she the main character in the film? What can you tell us about her?

I think of the film more as an ensemble film.

It’s funny because I was directing and I needed to be over there. I was trying to get my other performances. Cassandra does not have a lot of coverage. She gets like one solo scene really. But Cassandra is the character who keeps saying to her friends, ‘This place is spooky. Let’s go home. Let’s get out of here, it doesn’t feel good.’ And nobody listens and then it’s too late.

Did you write the character specifically for yourself?

I did write her for myself. I’m a Cassandra – I’m always that person who’s warning people and they don’t take things seriously.

TONYA PINKINS. © GREG NANAMURA

Have you always wanted to direct?

I’ve dabbled directing theatre a lot and then I spent the last three years shadowing as a director in television. I made a couple of short films over the years and I’ve loved it every time I did it. But it takes so many people. You need a village to make a film. And after three years of shadowing as a director and having relationships with showrunners, producers and execs, I didn’t feel like I was any closer to getting the opportunity.

First of all, it’s a privilege to get to shadow. You have to know somebody or get in a program to get even the opportunity so that in and of itself is a big hurdle that a lot of people can’t do. I had the relationships that I had with the directors and showrunners because I’d worked for them as an actor. But even at the end of that, you’re taking a month off your life where you fly yourself to wherever the show is, you’re putting yourself up. Yes, you get to eat on the set but that’s a month when you can’t work on anything else. You’re like being an intern and taking time out of being a self-supporting person in order to get this opportunity.

Having spent about four months over three years doing that, I was like, ‘WOW, I can’t afford to keep doing this and it doesn’t feel like anybody’s going to hire me.’ So I was like, ‘I better just hire myself.’

After having been involved in so many aspects of creating this film, are you considering leaning more towards writing and directing going forward or do you still feel more comfortable in front of the camera and on stage? 

I don’t think I ever need to get in front of the camera or on stage again. I love it on this side. I love being the person who creates opportunities for other people. I’m very happy telling stories. I have a bunch more horror movies I want to make because that’s my favourite genre.

KATHRYN ERBE, TONYA PINKINS AND LUBA MASON IN ‘RED PILL’. © GREG NANAMURA

You’re working with Matthias Gohl on the soundtrack. Can you tell us a bit about the direction you gave him for the music?

He’s going to record a string quartet in Iceland. He’s insisting on that, which is very expensive.

I love strings. I loved what [composer] Arthur Simonini did for ‘Portrait of a Woman on Fire’. I went and listened to some other of his music, particularly this French documentary he did, ‘Le monde sous les bombes, de Guernica à Hiroshima’. I loved that entire documentary score. When we temp-tracked the movie, we used this classical music with a lot of strings.

I like counterpoint. If it’s a scary moment, I like the music to kind of be funny. And I like to give you a big laugh before some really tragic thing is going to happen.

If used properly, art can be a powerful weapon and you’re obviously doing your bit with your new film. But how can we, the people on the other side of the screen, help make a difference?

Great question. I was talking to a friend this morning. We were talking about just what was going on politically. The Guardian wrote an article that Trump is consulting with this guy [John] Yoo, this attorney who drafted the document that gave Bush all of these powers. And he’s known for saying, ‘What do you want to do? We’ll figure out how to make the law do it’. And I started feeling like, ‘Why am I making a movie? A revolution is going to happen.’ And my friend said, ‘Yeah, but artists have always have been at the forefront of every movement. And if we don’t keep making art, then aren’t we letting them win?’

You know, whenever the fascists take over, they kill all the artists because we are so powerful. There’s this sculptor named Egon Weiner and I’m told that he said, ‘The only appropriate response to abuse is creativity.’ So I think that we have to keep creating work that both warns of what may come but also posits what is possible, what can be, better worlds, as well as showing what the possibility of the dystopian world is.

In making this movie, I definitely wanted people to get scared. But not just through the adrenaline of a horror movie but feel like, ‘Is that possible?! I don’t want that to be possible! Let’s do something!’ And trying to put it in an entertaining genre because the working class love horror. And the working class has the power to get out and vote and control what happens in this election. So painting a picture of what might be your worst nightmare. I wanted to have people go, ‘Whoa!’ OK, wake up! [laughs]

CATHERINE CURTIN AND COLBY MINIFIE IN RED PILL. © GREG NANAMURA

Have the recent protests in the US have made any real impact on the current situation in the US?

The uprisings have continued. The mainstream media isn’t covering them, but they are ongoing. That’s why what happened in Portland happened. Because people have been in the streets for fifty-four days. People have been occupying the mayor’s office here in New York. If there were no uprisings that were ongoing, Trump wouldn’t feel that he had to send federal agents into the cities. It has not subsided. It’s just not getting the coverage anymore.

 How have you been keeping yourself busy during the pandemic?

I think that for a lot of people, the pandemic has been a windfall and a gift. It has not been that for the essential workers, for the health care workers, for the grocery store people, for the delivery people. And so this divide is really showing me that we never really had a democracy here. For people who had jobs and lost them, there was this amount of money that they received every week and that was lovely because a lot of people were like, ‘Great! This is more money than I was doing.’ That’s about to end in a week. But all those essential workers and health care workers didn’t get that. And they’ve been risking their lives and they don’t have sick pay and health care and the hospitals don’t have room for them.

I’m a hermit and I like being alone. I have not suffered during the pandemic. Most of my suffering is just sitting up worrying and watching people being brutalized in the streets. And feeling like, ‘I’m an old woman. What can I do?’ But I really care about the fact that this country is just proving every day that it doesn’t care about any of us. It isn’t about black or white or female or trans. It just doesn’t care about humanity. Property is more important than people. And that’s got to change, whatever it takes. It took a pandemic for people to go, ‘Oh, they really don’t care about me. Revolution – we got to have it.’

TONYA PINKINS. © JAMES ALEXANDER

A lot of artists are struggling during the pandemic because they miss the spotlight, the stage and the applause. What advice would you give them?

I just feel like creativity can be in a lot of different ways. I studied with William Esper as an adult and he would say about actors that, ‘It takes seven years to become an actor. Most people start out wanting attention. And then after you’ve gotten over that, then you can become a real actor.’

I think perhaps this is a time to go inward and figure what it is you really want. Is it attention that you want or do you want to have impact where people are changed by the work that you did, where you’ve touched them in a way that they have to think about their life differently?

Over the past ten years or so, there has been a resurgence of crime and mystery dramas. Specifically, of European crime and mystery dramas. With streaming services constantly shelling out new content, it’s no wonder that a significant chunk of their budget goes into TV series of this darker genre. The viewers love it, too. 

‘The Killing’ (2007), otherwise known by its original title, ‘Forbrydelsen’, was a massive hit on the international market, earning a BAFTA award in the process. It even led to a Netflix remake that was surprisingly almost just as good, featuring the brilliant Mireille Enos and Joel Kinnaman.

With highly rated productions such as ‘Bordertown’ (2016), ‘Deadwind’ (2018), ‘The Chalet’ (2017), ‘La Mante’ (2017), and ‘The Forest’ (2017), among many others, it’s clear that European creators and viewers have a preference for the thrill of a murder enigma. We are unrepented suckers for a good mystery—the disappearance of an innocent girl; a body washed up on the shore of a small town somewhere in the cold countryside of Finland; a police detective with a dirty secret; broken families; and plenty of red herrings to keep us distracted for weeks on end.

Most of these shows follow a well-established formula. The pacing is slow, and great care is given to the characters, both main and secondary. Each of the story’s participants are three-dimensional and as close to real humans as they will ever get. We understand addiction, misery, anguish, loneliness, frustration, and depression. And we all want to get to the truth, one way or another. 

The journey isn’t easy. We must peel away at the layers. Perhaps the girl that went missing isn’t all that innocent herself. Or there’s a greater conspiracy at play, with the victims getting tangled into these webs of nefarious origin. Either way, by the end of the first season, we’re all feeling cold, our hearts pumping as the story picks up its pace and dives into a head-spinning finale. The killer is revealed. The motive is often shocking. Unpleasant realities come forth. Hearts are broken. Relationships are shattered. But we are all the wiser and justice was delivered. The mystery was unravelled… and then we move on to another series, because we quickly need another fix.

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This is where ‘Black Spot’ (2017) stands out from the rest of its predominantly Scandinavian and French counterparts. It follows a familiar pattern, but it boldly steps outside the conventions for its hybrid genre. It’s relatively slow paced, and it involves a missing girl, yes. However, it also brings in some supernatural elements that others might have trouble weaving into such a story. It’s dark and moody, with plenty of gloriously wooded establishing shots, as well as intimate close-ups and brutally honest views of the people whose lives it’s documenting.

Streaming platforms like Netflix operate in bulk these days. Out of ten series they produce and distribute, three might be decent. Out of the three, one will be exceptional and often highly anticipated before it is even released—as was the case with ‘Altered Carbon’ (2018), ‘The Crown’ (2016), or ‘House of Cards’ (2013). 

Unlike the aforementioned giants, ‘Black Spot’, produced by France Télévisions and Ego Productions, sort of… slipped through. It was a hidden gem of sorts, but once it caught its viewers’ attention, there was no turning back. The show just works on so many levels, it has become a crown jewel of Netflix, a French/Belgian Koh-i-Noor whose third season we’re all breathlessly awaiting.

Created by Mathieu Missoffe of ‘Criminal: France’ (2019) and ‘Profilage’ (2009), ‘Black Spot’ follows an uncanny blend of characters who join forces more or less willingly in order to solve strange murders in a small and isolated French town. Villefranche sits on the edge of a mysterious forest in an area known as a ‘zone blanche’ (also the show’s French title), which means the cell phone reception is particularly poor in these parts.

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The town’s sheriff, Laurène Weiss, was once the victim of a crime herself, now dealing with a piling of bodies and disappearances—some of which are startlingly connected to her own harrowing experience. The incoming inspector, Franck Siriani, is a quirky fellow with a sturdy share of phobias and unresolved issues, desperate to solve these crimes so he can earn his way back into the big city from where he was banished. The sheriff’s deputy, Nounours, is a cuddly bear-type gay man who ends up falling for a possible suspect in another murder. The mayor, Bertrand Steiner, whose daughter, Marion, has been missing for a year, is torn between his corrupt father, his frustrated wife, and his affair with the sheriff Weiss. Clearly, there’s a lot to unpack here, and we’re only four characters in.

Suliane Brahim does a stellar interpretation of sheriff Weiss, a single mother still struggling with memories of her abduction and near-death experience at the hands of a forest creature of sorts—every day is an effort to keep reality and nightmares apart from each other, in a bid to retain her sanity while she tries to bring justice to the victims of a recent surge in violent murder. ‘Black Spot’ is the much-awaited breakthrough an actress of her calibre and potential needed, and we can certainly see why she shines so brightly.

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Sheriff Weiss is a tormented woman who loses sleep over the dead bodies that keep popping up in Villefranche. Her daughter, Cora, is the typical difficult teenager with an extra emotional baggage of being Marion’s best friend and eager to find out what happened to her—by whatever means possible, even if it gets her involved with a group of extremist environmental activists hell-bent on ruining the Steiners’ toxic business ventures.

Bertrand Steiner wants to be a good mayor to his constituents, but his father’s immoral practices, lack of ethics, and army of goons persist as a stain on his record. He wants to be a good husband to his grieving wife, as well, but his feelings for sheriff Weiss keep bringing him back to her bed. When his daughter’s body is finally found, Bertrand loses control and begins a slightly predictable downward spiralling trajectory—at the end of which he’ll be forced to make a choice: pull the trigger or retain his humanity.

Franck Siriani is an interesting addition, a bright yellow on a palette of darker blues and greens. He stands out, despite his polite demeanour. His fear of germs borders on the ridicule. His desire to restore his record, however, reaches into the realms of the obsessive. Inspector Siriani wants to do the right thing, too, and that means solving the many murders that have been plaguing Villefranche. But he also wants to take down the biggest beast of all—the Steiners, whom he sees as his ticket back to civilization and an area with good cell reception.

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Walking through Villefranche for the first season alone, we’ll come across many interesting characters. Some are terrible and depraved, harbouring dark secrets and murderous intentions. Others are nice and well-meaning, with routines they deeply care for and families they work hard to support. A few are cynical, perhaps even a little jaded. A handful seem to know a lot more about this place and its history than they let on. Put together, however, they’re woven into a fascinating canvas—a town that has been around since the Roman soldiers were trying to conquer the Celtic Gauls, a town that tries to modernize but cannot fully abandon its occult past.

You see, what really sets ‘Black Spot’ apart is the fabled existence of Cernunnos, the Horned One, a deity once worshipped by the Gauls. While very little is known about him due to the absence of written Gaulish literature, Cernunnos is thought to have been a god of animals and nature. In ‘Black Spot’, he first emerges as a silhouette, a faint idea, the origin of sheriff Weiss’s nightmares.

As the story progresses, as murders are solved and as we’re brought closer to the grim truth behind Marion Steiner’s disappearance, Cernunnos’s role becomes clearer as sheriff Weiss’s possible abductor, definite stalker, and eventual saviour. This modern-day godlike creature is also a killer and the origin point of an old coming-of-age ritual that got sheriff Weiss kidnapped as a teenager, in the first place. He’s no longer just a legend. Cernunnos becomes a twisted, unpalatable reality, and our crime-solving heroes are gradually forced to accept his influence, while also trying to explain it in a way that makes sense.

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It’s not easy to blend a supernatural element into a drama that is partially based on the police procedural. It’s not easy to make it verisimilar enough for the viewer not to scoff and switch to another series. And it’s certainly not easy to gradually bring it from the bottom layers of the overarching stories all the way to the top, by the time the first season is over. This achievement is indisputable as we open with sheriff Weiss’s apparent resurrection in the second season. Our minds are blown, and we cannot look away.

We want to learn more about Cernunnos, about the role he plays in Villefranche’s mythology. Who else knows about him? Who else has crossed paths with this mysterious creature? Who else survived the encounter? Who has the answers we need to make sense of all this? Season two mercilessly teases, shocking with some of its answers, but it doesn’t let go. Its hold is strong.

It is truly a wonderful thing to witness—a show’s ability to grip its viewers so tightly, that they’re left on the edge of their seats, counting the days until the next season. For this alone, I’m pleased to give ‘Black Spot’ all the praise it deserves.

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Of course, the production would be nothing without its splendid cinematography. Christophe Nuyens, best known for his work on ‘Riviera’ (2017), ‘Versailles’ (2018), and ‘A Discovery of Witches’ (2018), brings his skill to new levels in eight episodes of ‘Black Spot’. It even earned him a Jury Award from Camerimage and the Best Cinematography Award from the Luchon International Film Festival. Brecht Goyvaerts of ‘De Dag’ (2018) fame handles another eight episodes with a steady, in-depth view of Villefranche and its secrets. Bruno Degrave and Matias Boucard complete the team with four and three episodes, respectively. 

From ‘Au Service de la France’ (2015), production designer Eddy Penot and art director Laurent Khalife manage to create a Villefranche so real, we feel the shivers down our spines with every panoramic view of the forest and every close-up of its streets. The look and feel of ‘Black Spot’ are exactly the way it’s meant to be: dark, gritty, unapologetically real, with a whiff of supernatural which we are compelled to follow, even after the show’s writers try to drag us back to reality.

©JEAN-PHILIPPE BALTEL/EGO PRODUCTIONS/FTV

Among the non-English speaking shows currently streaming on Netflix, ‘Black Spot’ takes a serious lead. Its weird factor is cranked up to a healthy eleven, well above ‘Osmosis’ (2019) or ‘Parfum’ (2018), taking it away from the strictly procedural or definitively dramatic creations of Scandinavian origins mentioned earlier. Stuffed with secrets, murder, whodunits and an apparently immortal horned god who makes a habit of starving and gutting his victims, one might have a hard time finding a reason not to like ‘Black Spot’. Especially when it turns out the supernatural isn’t all that… supernatural, per se.

Going back to the original premise of how Netflix absolutely nailed it with this show, the answer lies in the abundance of twists and turns, and in how we are all virtually played with right until the conclusion of the second season, where we learn that nothing is what it seems. Not even Cernunnos.

There is more mystery awaiting. More to the origin story. More connections to follow. And, of course, there are also more questions, which will hopefully be answered with the upcoming third season. At this point, one can only expect more of that dark and weird fun that Mathieu Missoffe is so obviously good at.