Skull + Bone
An atmospheric portrait of a Mardi Gras ritual in New Orleans.
At journalism school, we used to take part in interview role plays. We’d be given a scenario – like a local company was closing its factory – and an actor was brought in to play the managing director.
We soon learned that none of these set-ups were quite as they seemed.
While we assiduously asked the key questions – how many jobs would be lost, when would it close – the managing director would lob in a vague reference to something much more interesting.
We had to be alive to these curveballs which – while diverting us from our planned questions – would open up a much better story (the CEO had embezzled millions of pounds to clear debts incurred in an iguana-breeding scam, for example).
The lesson was have a plan, but be alert to what else is going on, and don’t be afraid to change course.
It’s something I rely on a lot, not just when interviewing people but also in meetings, giving talks, even thinking about projects.
It was fascinating to hear Victoria Rivera share this same advice when we discussed her brilliant short, Skull + Bone (2017).
It tells the story of New Orleans’ Northside Skull and Bone Gang. For 200 years they have kicked off Mardi Gras by waking the city before dawn, knocking on people’s doors and warning them about violence in a powerful ritualised performance.
Combining arresting visual imagery and a fascinating interview with the crew’s chief, Bruce “Sunpie” Barnes, the film packs lots of ideas into just five minutes.
But looking back on it now, Victoria wishes she’d been more alert to some of the stories that were unfolding around the shoot, the conversations they came across that weren’t captured on film.
Have a plan, but stay nimble.
I spoke with Victoria over Zoom from her home in New York. You can see more of her work on her website.
Why did you want to tell this story?
I didn’t set out to make a Mardi Gras film. I wasn’t even that interested in Mardi Gras – I learned about it during this process.
I was working at a media company at the time and just felt a bit creatively dead. I love narrative work, but it takes a lot of time and big budgets. I was feeling a bit stumped for what I could do in the moment.
And I wasn’t the only one. Three of my closest friends and collaborators, one of whom became my husband, we were all feeling this in one way or another.
We found ourselves going freelance at a similar time. So we booked a ten-day trip to New Orleans with the promise that we would exercise that creative muscle, and leave with a project, either individually or as a group.
We just decided to go and do this experiment and see what happens.
I found these images of the Northside Skull and Bone gang, and I was immediately taken aback by them.
They’re stunning visually, with all these animal bones, big masks and leather aprons with words written across them.
I was captivated. I read about Bruce Barnes, the chief of that crew, and so when we got there, I set out to look for him, literally knocking on doors.
Eventually I was able to find him, and he agreed to have a coffee and talk.
What was the biggest challenge?
Earning Bruce’s trust. He was very distrustful when he first met me – it wasn’t the best conversation.
He said you’re from New York, you’re Colombian, basically, why do you think you’re anyone to come and tell our story?
He agreed to an interview, but he wasn’t very happy about it.
The next day we set up a little camera – just my 5D in a loft that we had. I had done a lot of research and prep for that interview, and I think he saw that.
We had a really thoughtful conversation and I left feeling a lot better about what that had become.
When I got home and spent time with the footage, I realised there’s something much bigger here than a cool looking Mardi Gras gang.
There’s a very important spiritual part to all of this, in respecting your ancestors and listening to your elders. There's a really beautiful message about a community like Treme staying strong.
I asked Bruce if he wanted to come on more as a collaborator. And we started to create that bond and the trust that wasn’t there when we first met, understandably.
What would you do differently if you made the film again?
I would have spent more time when I went back to make the film.
I applied to a bunch of grants and fellowships and I basically got rejected by all of them. That’s always a great moment as a filmmaker…
But I told a director friend I was going to kill it, and he asked how much it would cost to just go and film it.
I ended up flying myself and three other people out and getting a lot of favours from friends who lent their gear. I spent next to nothing – I didn’t pay the people I went with. I just got their tickets and their accommodation.
I think the lesson there for me was even if everybody else is saying no, if it’s within your reach, then just do it.
But I realised the Crew was just the vehicle to the bigger story – and the more important one – which was this community of Treme and its residents.
People were so open with us, and so welcoming. I really wish we could have the community feature more heavily, hear their stories and give them a voice.
But that’s linked to it being self-funded. We were only there for four days of Mardi Gras, and then we left.
What are you most proud of?
That I made it, because I was about to throw the towel in.
I’m a big believer in finishing work even if you realise in the middle that you don’t like it, or you've outgrown it. To me, it’s important to finish something in order to be able to start something else.
I’m proud that I did it, and that I showed it at a Video Consortium gathering. I got encouragement from the audience to be like, why aren’t you submitting this to festivals?
I had spent so much time with it that I was very critical about what it was. I didn’t think it was anything, just sort of an empty trailer.
But after I got that reaction, we ended up premiering it at Tribeca and it got bought and all of these great things came from it.
How did making this film change you?
It taught me not to underestimate all the work that has to happen before you start filming. Doing your research, knowing a place, knowing the person, and earning their trust
It’s one thing getting an interview, but if you’re trying to dig a bit deeper, then you really have to do the work beforehand. Just be patient with the time you take with it, before saying, I’m going to tell this story.
Also, go in with a plan, but if you’re not open to what’s happening in the moment, then it’s going to be pretty dead.
Even with narrative work, where it’s actors and sets, you have to be open to what's happening and integrate that so it feels honest and truthful and alive.
Sometimes the more interesting story is screaming at you, but you’re so focused on getting the shots that you drew in your little notebook the night before, you miss it.
After the success of Skull + Bone, Victoria was offered the chance to expand the short into a series. But in the end she listened to her gut and walked away from what might have been a great opportunity.
She wasn’t, she decided, the right person to tell this particular story on a broader canvas. “It wasn’t mine to tell.”
Thanks so much to Victoria and thanks to you - not just for reading but for your kind messages of support which always brighten my day and make this little labour of love feel well worth the effort.