The Queen of Basketball
The Queen of Basketball
The incredible Oscar-winning story of a forgotten sports star.
I have some reservations with the received wisdom that attention spans are shattered, immediacy is everything, and we all exist in culture like Pavlov’s dogs who need a biscuit as soon as the bell rings, or else.
That said, I find it thrilling when the opening of a film or TV show casts a spell on you.
And openings don’t come much better than the first minute or so of Ben Proudfoot’s Oscar-winning New York Times Op-Doc, The Queen of Basketball (2021).
It gallops through the headlines of Lusia "Lucy" Harris’ remarkable basketball career, which took her from rural Mississippi to the Olympics and, very nearly, the NBA.
It’s narrated by Lucy herself, and soaked in a charm that only heightens the drama.
But when Ben traveled to Mississippi to shoot the film during the pandemic, he had no idea that his main character would be so captivating.
They’d spoken on the phone, but only really about logistics. “She was warm, but she wasn’t who she was when the camera came on, giggling and recollecting everything with perfect clarity ,” he explains.
That’s why I think this opening minute works so well.
We’re discovering Lucy like Ben did – proud athlete, consummate storyteller, terrific company.
I spoke with Ben over Zoom from his office in California. You can see more of his work on the website of his production company, Breakwater Studios.
Why did you want to tell this story?
I was engaged in finding as many stories as I could under this Almost Famous anthology theme, about people who, if history had gone ever so slightly differently, would be a household name.
Lindsay Crouse was the Senior Commissioning Editor of Op-Docs, and her beat as a writer was gender through the lens of sports.
By virtue of working with her closely, I’d heard a lot about everything that was going on in that world. I was hearing the music from her.
Meanwhile, Haley Watson, a director and cinematographer in Breakwater’s world, suggested I look up this story about Lucy Harris. One of those phone calls that changes your life.
I Googled Lucy’s name and saw her Wikipedia page, which at the time was very scant.
I noticed her name was often misspelled Louisa not Lusia. I noted that there was no archival or video of her, and it seemed like she was still alive and well and living in Mississippi.
As soon as I saw all these incredible accomplishments – about the Olympics and the NBA and many, many, many, firsts – I just thought, I can’t believe there’s not a movie about her.
I was digging and digging trying to find the documentary that clearly someone had made, and it just didn’t exist. No-one had made it. And that’s usually a really positive sign that there’s something there.
It had a tower of things that made it a fantastic opportunity for a documentary. It had someone who was hugely significant but never had the opportunity to tell their own story.
I had the inkling at the time that there were probably a lot of photos and videos of her that hadn’t been collated and digitised.
And it had, as it turned out, a very charismatic storyteller with perfect memory.
What were the biggest challenges?
The story was so good – and she was so good – it took a lot out of me as a filmmaker, because I was dissatisfied with anything that wasn’t A+.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime story to come across so the hard stuff was all the cuts that were very good, that the New York Times would happily run, that would have got into film festivals – but they weren’t quite worthy of this story I felt.
I specially seek out people for my team who are dissatisfied with things that are very good. It’s so easy to say, oh yeah that’ll work. That’s fine.
If we want to be the best in the world at what we do, then we have to keep pushing, turn up the intensity, put effort in where others will not.
Where everybody else would click publish, that’s the rough cut. So you have to keep refining, keep polishing and keep asking the question, how can this be better?
What would you do differently if you made the film again?
I might have gotten the film out earlier so Lucy could see more of the success before she passed away (in January 2022). But even then, we pushed it as hard and as fast as we could, so I’m not sure how we could have done that.
What’s interesting is that if I made the film today, I would probably have done bigger production values. This was just a two person crew, me and the cinematographer (Brandon Somerhalder). That’s it.
The restriction of the whole thing was positive creatively. I could spend a lot more money today on an original film than I could a few years ago, but that may not make it better.
What are you most proud of?
When I think of pride, I think of Lucy’s kids and her family.
I’m proud to have taken the initiative on something that satisfied them, and made them feel like one part of the book was closed. It wasn’t like this lingering open thing, that she really should be recognised.
And I’m proud of our team. Everyone’s longstanding efforts to improve themselves in their role contributed to the film being so successful.
How did making this film change you?
I think I’m more interested in the advocacy element that comes with filmmaking.
This, more than any other film I’ve ever made, I’ve really got involved with all the non-filmmaking things around it – different things with the university, advocating on Lucy’s behalf, within the government to gather special prizes.
I have really enjoyed it and that has changed me because when I think about taking on a new film, I think what’s the long tail? What’s the advocacy portion of it?
Because when you take on something like this you become basically a spokesperson for this other person, or their family.
I’m just someone with a lot of initiative and energy, and so I can actually be helpful. Lucy’s children all have very full lives and careers and families.
They don’t have a whole bunch of extra time to take on a major advocacy campaign. I have the luxury as a storyteller of being able to do that.
The Oscar doesn’t change me, it changes how everybody else treats me and thinks about me.
It used to be a bit more freewheeling because nobody was paying attention. Not that millions of people are now paying attention, but a few more people are, by virtue of the fact it won an Academy Award.
It’s fitting that Ben’s tremendous film won the Oscar, because he is a passionate advocate for the short documentary format on its own terms, rather than as a stepping stone towards a feature-length film.
I also really liked his reflections on his continuous quest to make the film better – this obsession certainly shines through.
Thanks to Ben, to Jessica Best for her proofreading skills, and of course to you for reading.