Interview: A.V. Rockwell and Teyana Taylor on A Thousand and One and a Changing New York City

The observation that New York City functions like a character in a film set within its bounds is well-worn enough that it’s even been the subject of cinematic parody. Yet if any movie could reclaim the sentiment sincerely, it would be A Thousand and One, the 2023 winner of Sundance’s Grand Jury Prize within the U.S. Dramatic Competition section.

Writer-director A.V. Rockwell is no stranger to building bottom-up portrayals of the Big Apple. Her earliest episodic short films in the Open City Mixtape center an eclectic assortment of stories from residents who usually occupy the margins of the frame. That same spirit animates her feature debut over a much more extended time horizon as she charts the parallel trajectories of Harlemite hairdresser Inez (Teyana Taylor) and the city at large.

A Thousand and One distills the macro-level story of the Giuliani and Bloomberg eras into the micro-level struggle of Inez to hold her ground in an environment seemingly determined to break her down and move her out. This dynamic plays out most acutely in the fierce devotion to her son Terry (played by three different actors as he ages from six to 17) after she kidnaps him from the foster care system following a stint in Rikers. And thanks to Taylor’s emotionally committed performance and Rockwell’s perceptive script, the film refracts this struggle for self-preservation through even the smallest stakes and circumstances.

I spoke to Rockwell and Taylor ahead of A Thousand and One’s theatrical release. Our conversation centered around this connection between Inez and New York City—why Black women are the soul of the city, how to represent the forces like gentrification and institutional racism that mark the era, and what constitutes good change in the city.

A.V., you’ve described Inez as “New York City personified.” How did you balance rooting the character in such rich, personal detail while also ensuring she could be something bigger than herself?

A.V. Rockwell: I think that was easy in certain ways. Because, yes, New York is big and larger than life, but so is Inez. She’s a very charismatic person. She’s very complicated and rich in her nuances. To me, she mirrors the city because she’s rough and tough, and the way that she suppresses herself and is forced to change over time, I think the city goes through that as well. All of that really happened, so that’s what made me even feel the connective tissue.

I see Black women as representing the soul of New York City, and there are so many common threads in the way that we’re pushed to go through our journey of life being more like everyone else, and the city goes through the same thing, trying to be a little bit more palatable, accessible, and suburbanized. Because of that, it’s lost the uniqueness that I feel it should hold onto. That’s what makes it special. I feel Black women like Inez need to hold on to what makes them special.

The film covers such a wide timespan, much of it in ellipses. How were you two talking about what takes place between the scenes of this film and how the dynamics of New York City would be reflected through her?

AR: Those kinds of conversations unfolded organically because she’s a woman who’s maturing and settling. As life is stabilizing, I think certain things just fell into place naturally. But then, there obviously are the obstacles that the family has to battle—not only in terms of external things that they’re reacting to, but within the family as well. A lot of the ways in which she’s changed are triggered by things that are happening and being asked of her.

For instance, the big blowout she has with [her boyfriend] Lucky [played by William Catlett] when she says, “Show up for me!” Even in a moment like that, you see Inez being asked to change. To be a different person in order for her to be a little bit more accepting and worthy of love and support. In the time that passes, we know exactly what she would have been going through on a certain level because we’ve seen that set up for us. What we’re seeing in the next chapter is the aftermath of that and who she’s become by that point.

How did you, Teyana, evolve and enhance the character from the original conception after you won the part?

Teyana Taylor: Inez was already there. But, like I always say, Inez is just within all of us. We all can relate to Inez in so many different ways. I just connected with her in so little time. I was able to channel all of my emotions and anything else that was on my heart through Inez. I felt a lot of the triggers that she had to deal with. I felt a lot of the emotion. I’ve been here before, when people try to minimize you, shut you out, or shut you down. Even just being with somebody where nothing is being reciprocated, showing up for everybody and wanting somebody to show up for you. It was easy being emotional and therapeutic to really tap into Inez, honestly.

Prior to shooting the film, you had just had a child yourself. As the filming was unfolding, you were also going through a number of losses of loved ones in your personal life. Was that something you were able to channel into the character?

TT: That’s exactly what I mean when I’m saying it’s been therapeutic. My whole life and career, just as a Black woman, we have to be so strong. And sometimes our strength is used against us. It’s a beautiful thing when we have strength and are fighting for others. But when we have strength and fight for ourselves, there’s a problem. We’re conditioned to just be the strong Black woman. Through playing Inez, I was able to have a moment of weakness for once. Take off my cape, for once, and really just cry out loud. Whatever quiet tears I had all came to the surface this year. I was able to deal with all that through Inez. Yes, I was dealing with postpartum depression while still raising a six-year-old as well. Dealing with my career and everything I had going on, and then also just attending funeral services during my lunch breaks.

It was a lot, but I feel like it was God [intervening] because I had bottled in so much. There was never a time to grieve. There was never a time to really feel. There was never a time to do any of those things because you turn around, and you’ve got to be Teyana Taylor. Turn around, you’ve got to be mommy. Turn around, you’ve got to be a wife, or you’ve got to be a daughter, or you’ve got to be a sister. There are so many roles that we have to do, and there’s really no time or outlet to outpour those emotions. We don’t even have time to go to therapy. So, for me, Inez, this movie, and this whole process has been very therapeutic to me.

A.V., how did you land on those interstitials with shots of the architecture underscored by mayoral speeches and news commentary? A lot of times those establishing shots are just empty filler, but they really grab attention in the film.

AR: The structure of the movie was definitely designed around what was happening in New York during these eras and therefore how they impacted the lives of the characters in direct and indirect ways. I always knew that I wanted that, like that was there in the screenplay. I think it definitely evolved in how I decided to interpret that on screen. And I think in terms of hearing the mayors, I really loved the idea of them speaking over the city in a very Wizard of Oz kind of way. Just hearing this voice, this presence wash over the city. And you have little pieces of people reacting to them, like “I’ll walk where I want to walk!” and things like that.

I love the idea of New York as a character and this [kind of] omnipresent force. But I think in the way that I showcase the city, you’re also seeing how change actually took place, where we started and what the city looked like and where it is at the end of the movie. And I think also in the ways that there’s a love for New York City expressed in the movie, we also feel that it has the grit represented. That’s such a bedrock of foundation for the empire that was built on top of it. I wanted to celebrate not only what was special across the board from the bones of the city onward, but also just the culture of New York and Harlem. Showcasing it not only through the people but just how the environment looked, shaped, and evolved was really important.

This is the era of stop-and-frisk and so many other policies that increased hostility toward people of color in New York City. Yet we see that more often reflected through the effect on the characters’ psyches than in violence against their bodies. I thought back to an interview I did with Time director Garrett Bradley where she described consciously resisting the need to “explain” racism through the film. How did you make decisions on what you wouldn’t show or explain?

AR: I think you feel a lot of those forces, specifically when it comes to the role that race plays in the movie. A lot of it doesn’t have to be laid out explicitly. You feel it, you see it, no matter what side of the conversation you’re on. I don’t think that you need to be Black or in a marginalized group to see it play out. Just by being with these characters, seeing how they experience the bias, and how their version of the city is characterized, it says a lot of that on its own.

Even when you look at Giuliani and what his vision was for the city, creating a “better” New York. But by the end of his time in office in 2001, you’re hearing about what all that change actually manifested. Obviously the police brutality, those big cases in the ’90s, as well as the policy he ended on, stop-and-frisk. The city is supposed to be better, and it’s very obvious that those aren’t going to be benefiting people like Terry and Inez. I don’t think that there’s much that I need to say further, at least in terms of a conversation that these characters are having with each other to let people know what it is. You can see it, and if you don’t want to see it, I feel like you have to ask yourself why you refuse to deal with what is real and true in front of you.

Is the film meant to serve as a rejoinder or corrective to that narrative that the city’s prosperity was enjoyed by all?

AR: Absolutely, it wasn’t evenly distributed. I think there’s a great irony in the fact that New York City, when it was on the outs, still remained a city that was accessible to everyone. As it got better it is this question of “better for who?” What we see over this time period, up until now, is that it continues to be designed in a way that doesn’t serve the citizens and the communities that already existed here. It seems to be getting better just so other people feel like it’s more palatable and inviting for them to come in and push the rest of us out. There’s a conversation: How do you improve a city in a way that benefits everyone? I certainly have thoughts on that. People do have to be honest about that aspect of it. Not every way in which the city has progressed benefits everybody who lives here.

There’s a prevailing sentiment that New York was always best on the day you moved here, or maybe during the earliest memory for native New Yorkers like yourselves, and every change after just desecrates it. A Thousand and One makes us sit with the complexities of how the city evolves, though, and I’m curious to know how you all feel about what constitutes “good” and “bad” change here.

TT: In a nutshell, the good New York to me is the childhood that I remember. It used to be very “mom and pop,” and now it’s more like there are these things that are just there. These glass buildings that are there to move us out. What’s there now isn’t really as accessible as the things that used to be there. The things that were for us. It’s definitely a bittersweet thing because, of course, everybody evolves. We evolve as people. But I think the bitter part of it is that it’s not changing for the best, and it’s not changing for my people. The parts of Harlem that I miss are when we were able to play outside in the sprinklers. Actually really go to the park, actually really play basketball, actually really just be one whole big family on the block. Now, it’s extremely quiet, and it looks a lot different. A lot of our childhood has been erased.

AR: New York at its best was fun. There was so much personality, so much vibrance, so much culture. It was a melting pot, and it’s still supposed to function as a melting pot. But how can you have this collision of so many different ways of life and being if not everybody can actually stay and exist here? I do miss the city that has this vibrant personality and was a home for everyone. I miss the sense of community, because that’s getting less and less. I feel like the city is almost apologizing for having its own personality, and even its sense of purpose. To go from having places like the Apollo, Lenox Lounge, all these staples of Harlem that made it a place unlike any other American neighborhood…like, I don’t need to go uptown to go to Marshalls, Bed Bath & Beyond, or Wells Fargo, which replaced Lenox Lounge. It’s convenient to have those things, but it should not be at the expense of all those unique attributes that actually make a city.