We recently connected with Kelly Lou Dennis and have shared our conversation below.

Kelly Lou, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. We’d love to hear the backstory behind a risk you’ve taken – whether big or small, walk us through what it was like and how it ultimately turned out.

I was accepted into a great film school in Los Angeles with a partial scholarship – and turned it down. For context, I was raised with the mindset that college was the expected next step after high school, so walking away from college with just an A.A. in Screenwriting was not an easy decision. However, a week before my acceptance letter arrived, I was presented with a once in a lifetime opportunity to write, direct and star in an independent feature film. The timelines completely overlapped.

It was an excruciating and terrifying decision – I probably gave myself an ulcer or two deliberating over it. Ultimately, though, I realized that the “what if?” would forever haunt me if I let the movie opportunity go.

Though I ended up halting the film’s production a third of the way through, I absolutely made the right decision to give it a shot. The experience of hiring a team of thirty people, heading up a meticulous pre-production, running casting sessions, problem-solving on the spot, location scouting and earning the trust of so many talented professionals at such a young age was invaluable. I learned more by doing than I ever could sitting in a classroom. Plus, I was later able to put my college savings toward professional writing and acting classes once I moved to Los Angeles.

Taking risks can be scary, but if you’re in tune with yourself and believe the potential rewards outweigh the potential consequences, there’s a good chance it’s worth it.

Kelly Lou, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

I’ve been a writer and actor for as long as I can remember, performing in musicals and plays as a child and handwriting my first fiction novel in the fifth grade. It was in college, however, that I discovered my true loves – the simplicity yet power of screenwriting, and the naked honesty of acting for the camera. Since I’m very visual, a strong communicator, and because I often know precisely what I want, directing was a natural next step.

As a storyteller, I gravitate toward character-driven genre stories that build worlds, challenge stereotypes and value connection. I love thrusting characters together who would, under normal circumstances, have nothing to do with each other. Yet in their shared crisis they discover similarities and common ground that they couldn’t see before.

I’m especially drawn to genre stories because they provide the opportunity to turn social issues into creative, visual metaphors that leave audiences thinking long after the credits roll. I think it’s important to entertain but also challenge audiences. After all, stories can help us reflect on our lives, find validation and even push for brighter futures.

What do you think is the goal or mission that drives your creative journey?

I’m passionate about challenging broken stereotypes and traditions, with a special focus on highlighting gender expectations. With innovation and the development of our society, we have adopted many beautiful, pragmatic, wonderful practices. Yet not all of them benefit the greater good, but rather a small percentage of our population.

We live in a patriarchal society and rigid gender roles are baked into our homes, our career opportunities, our relationships and even our own judgements. These roles are harmful to people of all genders, and I explore and question them in many of my stories.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

I used to think that becoming a successful storyteller meant being the best. I attended a high school where a 4.0 GPA was unimpressive, and I was taught that only those with the best grades attended the best colleges and earned the best careers. In early acting classes, I was taught that the best audition booked the role. The best films get into Sundance. The best scripts win the competitions. Please the audiences, impress the gatekeepers, be the best.

The problem with this belief? Art is subjective.

In casting my own films, I’ve been heartbroken when I couldn’t cast the actor whose audition was “the best” because they simply were not the character. Writing peers have shared how their scripts received a mountain of rejections, only to suddenly place or win a major competition. I’ve learned that so much goes into film festival programming that has little to do with a film’s story itself, from politics to festival theme to film length to the individual programmers’ taste.

Art is subjective.

Instead of aiming for perfection in art, I instead aim to bring honesty and vulnerability to it, to say what I’m burning to say and to let it be daring and weird. My film that’s currently in the festival circuit is dark and intense and definitely not for everyone, but I measure its success in all the women who’ve come up to me in tears after screenings – thanking me for telling this story. I measure it in the level of self-reflection when the lights come up, and how long the film’s message stays with audiences.

Failure is making something forgettable, so if my work makes you feel something I’ve found success.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.kellyloudennis.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kellyloudennis

Image Credits

Myrna M. Suarez