The new animated short documentary tore through the festival landscape and now they have their sights set on the Oscars as a contender. We sat down with director Nathan Fagan to talk about his process.

1. This film uses animation to convey lived experience; what were the earliest conversations like about combining documentary testimony with hand-drawn visuals?

Very early on, I felt like animation was the best tool to tell these particular stories. Although I come from a live-action background – and I’ve explored more abstract, impressionistic styles of storytelling before – I was excited about the unique possibilities afforded by animation to explore the inner worlds of the three people featured in the film: Kiana, Frank and Sunny.

Because so much of this film is about what happens to people internally during prolonged periods of isolation – emotionally, psychologically, and imaginatively – animation very quickly presented itself as the most effective way to give audiences access to these inner worlds. Through animating these experiences, the goal was to try to give audiences the opportunity to experience what solitary confinement feels like from the inside: to capture the horror these individuals were forced to endure but also the remarkable resilience and power of their imaginations. 

2. The title, Inside, The Valley Sings, is evocative and poetic. What does it mean to you personally, and how did it evolve with the project?

For me, titles always come very late. I usually work with a more generic working title before the final title of a project emerges later in the process. I think the title ‘Inside, The Valley Sings’ evokes a number of things about the experiences explored in this film. 

From my conversations with Frank, Sunny and Kiana, I started to understand that there exist these hidden, almost-subterranean complexes in prisons all around the world – where countless individuals live in seclusion in these tiny cells. People are locked away in these cramped, sensory-deprived 6×9 worlds. But, despite their limited access to the outside world, each one of these individuals contains a whole life and world inside them: the vast valleys and oceans and continents of one’s memories and hopes and dreams. For me, I think this captures both the remarkable resilience of these three incredible individuals – and anyone who endures prolonged solitary confinement – but also the incredible cruelty and injustice of stripping human beings of contact and connection like this.

3. How did you work with animation director Natasza Centre to translate abstract psychological states into visual language? Were there specific inspirations or references?

I feel incredibly fortunate to have been given the opportunity to work with an artist as talented as Natasza. She poured so much of her energy, craft and imagination into this film. Before we started discussing the visual language and overall style of the film, we had a close-to-final cut of the audio interviews that form the basis of the film. This helped give us a basic starting point to start thinking about how we might introduce the audience to the world of the film and the three individuals featured in it.

In terms of the more abstract sequences in the film, however, the process was more exploratory and experimental. We had long conversations about what it feels like – internally – to experience certain emotional and psychological states: such as loneliness, disconnection, and longing. Through these chats, we might land on a potential symbolic or metaphorical visual representation of these states. Natasza would then test these out in draft form, translating these into her own unique visual approach to colour, shape and form. It was a really free and richly-creative process.

4. The testimonies are incredibly intimate. What was your process in building trust with the subjects, and how did you choose which stories to include?

I always feel like open and honest conversation is the basic starting point for any type of filmmaking, whether it’s documentary or fiction. So, in the case of this film, it began with long conversations with each of the three incredible subjects in the film: Frank, Kiana and Sunny.

I began by first explaining my intentions and hopes for the film, while also acknowledging that the discussions we had would be a learning process for me as we progressed and that the film would grow and evolve over the course of our conversations. Because these stories are so personal and – at times, the experiences being recounted are extremely traumatic – it was really important that it was a genuine collaboration between us all, and that Frank, Kiana and Sunny felt ownership over their stories in this film and how they were being presented. 

With that in mind, I shared drafts of the audio edits with everyone very early in the process and then throughout the actual animation phase. They were all incredibly enthusiastic and positive about the shape of the film as it progressed – and so we never needed to cut or amend anything during this phase – but this was a really important part of the process for us all.  

5. Sound plays a major role in shaping the viewer’s emotional landscape. How did you collaborate with Die Hexen on the sonic dimension of the film?

I’ve been a huge fan of Die Hexen’s work for many years now so I was delighted to get the opportunity to work with them on this film. Die’s work is always tremendously layered and unique – so I knew it would add a whole new dimension to the project.

In terms of our collaborative process, it started – like everything – with long conversations. Guided by the original interviews, we discussed the emotional and psychological worlds of each character at different stages throughout the film, thinking about what exactly we wanted to communicate to the audience and what we wanted to leave up to the viewer’s imagination. These conversations between us began more abstractly and then Die would go off and work their magic. It was a very open and organic collaborative process, which was wonderful.

6. Were there any ethical or artistic challenges in balancing the beauty of the animation with the gravity of the subject matter?

Very early on in the conceptual process, when we were deciding the visual language and style of the film, Natasza and I discussed the complex tone of this particular project. 

On the one hand, there’s the very real and stark reality of living in a 6 x 9 cell – for years on end – with very little sensory stimulation and contact with the outside world. The emotional and psychological toll of this experience is immense. Then, on the other hand, there’s the occasional slivers of hope and escape that each individual found through delving into their imaginations. We always knew it was essential that we didn’t let one element – the real world and the imagined world – overpower the other. 

With that in mind, we decided to portray the real world elements of the film in a more realistic, almost-illustrative style of animation, so audiences could get a real sense of what it might be like to live in an enclosed space. These scenes allowed us to show the suffocating nature of solitary cells – the boredom, tedium and despair – so that when we did enter into the more colourful, vibrant inner worlds of all three people, the day-to-day reality of life in solitary was always firmly in the audience’s mind. 

7. Looking back, is there a particular moment or sequence in the film that you feel most proud of? 

Personally, I’m really proud of the film as a whole and I’m just really honoured that Kiana, Sunny and Frank trusted me with their stories. I couldn’t pinpoint one specific sequence, but my favourite moments throughout the film are the moments when we enter each person’s inner world, and get to see their individual hopes, memories and dreams. For me, these moments – so beautifully brought to life by Natasza – really remind me that we’re all really the same deep down, despite our unique life experiences. We all need to be seen and heard, to be given the opportunity to connect with other people, and to be treated with respect and dignity. 

8. How did the constraints of the short film format influence your narrative and visual decisions? Would you consider expanding this into a feature?

In a lot of ways, I try to look at the short film as a unique storytelling form in and of itself. It has its own specific qualities and its own specific power as a medium. For this reason, I always envisioned this particular film as something shorter in length. 

For example, one question I’ve been asked is whether I would have included more information about the particular circumstances that resulted in each individual ending up incarcerated if the film had been feature-length. But I never thought this information was relevant to the story we are telling and what we’re ultimately trying to communicate. Focusing solely on the emotional and psychological consequences of prolonged solitary confinement is deeply linked to the message of the film. As remarkable, insightful and inspiring as Kiana, Frank and Sunny are as individuals, their voices are also the voices of the hundreds of thousands of people still enduring solitary confinement today. This is one of the main motivations behind making and sharing this short film.   

I have no immediate plans to turn this particular project into a feature-length film. I work between both fiction and documentary and I’m currently writing and developing a number of feature-length screenplays. So these projects are currently occupying my focus. But if an opportunity arises in the future to delve back into these stories and themes, I would be honoured to.