Interview: D. Smith on Stimulating the Senses with Kokomo City

D. Smith has a full career of entertainment experiences, primarily as a successful music producer for artists ranging from Lil Wayne to Katy Perry. But when it came to creating her scrappy first feature, Kokomo City, she pulled a lot from a surprisingly early career gig: singing in the New York City subways. “People don’t understand there’s a science to being a subway singer,” she tells me before detailing her specific strategies to break through the noise to reach an audience. “The point is: you gotta sell it and gotta go.”

Smith’s willingness to hustle in order to connect through art shines through in Kokomo City, a documentary that originated solely from her own initiative. She earns her stripes a multihyphenate, serving not only as the film’s director but also its producer, cinematographer, editor, and casting director. Her lively black-and-white portrait of four Black trans women sex workers feels refreshingly unburdened by documentary conventions.

Throughout Kokomo City, Smith hands over the metaphorical microphone to her subjects and lets them tell their raw experiences of work and life, which she then accentuates with flourishes like warped images and zany sound effects. These accumulating micro-level anecdotes help to highlight the documentary’s macro-level thesis of how Black trans women’s existence and persistence explode white-defined paradigms of race and gender.

I spoke with Smith prior to Kokomo City’s theatrical opening. Our conversation covered how she earned the trust of her subjects, what tropes in documentaries she found too sterile to recreate, and why the film remains untouched following the murder of subject Koko Da Doll.

I’d love to start with the film’s sound design, which often features these fanciful bursts of noise to literalize sounds during the subjects’ recounting of real events. It made these stories feel like narratives, not just tragic tales. How did you conceive of the role these cinematic tools could play in bringing these figures to life?

From the beginning, I really wanted to do something unorthodox. I had no boundaries, no agencies, no managers, no producers when I did this film. I had no one warning or correcting me. I just went for it. It was very important that I created a film that I would personally want to personally watch. That was really a selfish act, but it got me through. Stimulating all of the senses was very important to tell the story. You have to keep people engaged.

This film is largely a product of your own imagination, as you were often working alone on it. Is there anything that you saw emerge from that singular viewpoint?

I created this film for so many reasons, and one of those reasons was my being ostracized [after transitioning] from the music industry from producing for 15 years. In this film, I went looking for girls, not victims, not crybabies, but girls who really never had the opportunity to speak in such a safe, clear way. So my approach was really—oh God, I’m probably gonna get in trouble for saying it—balls to the wall. But that’s the trajectory that I want for myself as a film director. I’m really gonna try to continue to tell films in a bold way. I don’t know how possible that is because moving forward, obviously, I want better production and funding. [More] people are going to be involved. But not having those no’s and rules really inspired this film from the top [down].

What does the process of bringing on a producer like Harris Doran add to the evolution of the film?

This movie would definitely not have made it to Sundance if it wasn’t for Harris. He brought some technical things to the table to help me really refine and elevate what I had already done. But I had no connections with anyone in any festival, and he used his connections to really connect the dots. It just went from that to this endless freight train that’s been happening since January. It was very important because there’s only so much you can do. I did all of the film. I produced it, directed it, did the cinematography, and edited it. But that doesn’t mean anything if you can’t get eyes on it. It was very important when Harris came in and saved the day.

How did you shape the film’s narrative arc? Given how central the girls’ stories are, I can’t imagine that you could hold too tightly to any preconceived ideas of how it might come together.

I had this vision of what Kokomo City was, but there were so many wonderful surprises [along the way]. The more I filmed and heard quotes, the more I wanted to dive into [the women’s lives]. When I started to test the women’s comfortability with how I was filming, I went even further. Hence the last frame, the full-body shot with Dominique [Silver]. That was a very bold move for me to even ask her to do that. But all these little breakthroughs and nuances in the film really helped shape the emotion, style, and tone of the film.

I want to ask about your inspirations for the final shot. It feels like casting the Black trans female body like a Renaissance sculpture. Were you thinking about the canon of imagery that you were placing that shot in dialogue with?

Absolutely. Dominique is very comfortable with her beauty and in her elegance with her body. She has a huge fan base as a porn actress. But to capture a trans woman in a dignifying, strong, empowered, beautiful, iconic way, I couldn’t sleep at night hoping to get this shot. She was the only one who I asked to do that, and she gave me a slight bit of pushback. But I had to explain to her that this is exactly why she should do it. She has all of these videos online, and she’s totally comfortable with partners. But here I am asking her, as a trans woman to another trans woman, in the privacy and safety of her home to do this, and I thought, “You’re giving me shit about it?!” This was crazy to me. So I had to say, “Think about that! This is exactly why we need to do it.” She thought about it and was like, “Wow, no, you’re right.” So I filmed it so fast before she changed her mind, and I just wished for the best. Like, “Please, I hope I pressed record!” But I said to make it less sexual, grab that sage and make it something else. Now this becomes really soft, elegant, and non-sexual. And it was just a beautiful shot.

Is Dominique on OnlyFans creating her own content?

Yeah, she was everywhere. We actually talked about OnlyFans and how everyone’s doing it now, male and female. Does that constitute them being sex workers now? It was very profound. But I had to choose what was important, and this was one of those clips that I just decided not to use. She was also empowered by the independence of using OnlyFans, like most people, because you’re in control. You don’t have to ask permission and make it weird for anyone else. You just do what you want to do. I don’t know what she’s doing now, but she’s signed to a label, Elite Models. She’s getting a lot of work with them, and she did a shoot for Beyoncé’s Renaissance Couture. She’s got a lot that she’s doing, and I’m so proud of her.

The reason why I asked about OnlyFans is because the site gives people so much power over the way their image is being presented. I was curious if her reluctance to do the shot was feeling like she didn’t have the control over the way that she was going to be presented.

That’s a really good question, but the truth of the matter is I probably was a little aggressive when I asked her because I didn’t know her. I finally got her to agree to do the film. This was one of our first conversations, and I had to put it out there to say, “Hey, I’m looking to do this. Oh, there’s one more thing: I want full frontal with no makeup and lighting, and I need you to trust me.” I would probably say no too! I had to convince her, but look what happened when she trusted me. She hadn’t met me. She didn’t know who I was. She didn’t know my true intentions. She had believe that I was going to be respectful and show her in the most dignified way. But we’ve never seen a documentary where a trans woman has been shown like that, so it was really groundbreaking.

Regarding learning how to ask questions in the right way, what were you saying off-camera to elicit the stories that eventually make up the backbone of the film?

I would bring up a lot of the same subjects to the girls, but depending on who really gave me the most, [that’s what] I would use. There are so many things that trans women are dealing with under the same thread. At the end of the day, it was important to have the most variety of topics that we’re all dealing with but share them among all the girls just to keep things moving. Hence why I wouldn’t film them all together in a room like some type of therapy session like we do see a lot of times in documentaries. Filming the girls separately, you get their true authentic emotions, responses, and answers. It was great that the girls really stepped up to the plate. I could have asked them anything, and they were just so about it.

How were you strategizing on where to film them talking? Everything from a park bench or a bed yields fascinating revelations in the film.

It was very intentional. In some of those shots, obviously, the girls were banking on me to lead the way, and I had no problem with that. You got to lead with confidence and let them know this is the way to go. But so many times in documentaries, especially LGBT documentaries, it’s always so sterile. I wanted [something more] animated. Not outlandish or ridiculous, but the furthest from a stool in front of a brick wall. I’m like, “Listen, put on a bonnet, grab a cigarette, play music, and have a seat in the tub. I really want you to be super comfortable.” I just thought it would be a beautiful shot, and it ended up being so iconic. Again, it’s just one of those things where she trusted me. Before I even asked her to get in the tub, she was butt-ass naked. I could barely ask Daniella [Carter] to do that, yet she was already about it. I think what was so fun was that the girls were so open. Not just vulnerable, they were so curious and intrepid. I got a lot of those moments because they wanted it, too. They were very liberated by the opportunity.

The starting point of the film is the four girls, but I’m fascinated by the way that you incorporate cisgender men into the narrative. Did you know they had to be a part of it from the start, or was that something that emerged during the making?

I was talking to one of the guys, and he showed a great deal of interest in being in the film. I thought of having guys in it, but I didn’t make a really big deal about it. I tested the water by explaining the film, how I wanted to shoot it, and what that process was going to be like. He was so excited and was like, “You’ve got to come up to the Bronx so me and my boys could be in this.” I’m not afraid of anything, but I just thought, “Whoa, okay, a trans woman, what does that look like?” I encouraged them to bring all their friends. I wanted all of them in the house. That didn’t happen because of schedules and whatnot. But I do have footage of a house full of people, and I ended up not using it because there was a lot going on. Everyone had something to say. It was heated in the best way—not violent, just heated with so much passion. All of the guys in the film were so excited to do this film. I didn’t have to ask any of them twice.

You’ve now mentioned several scenes that you’ve cut from the film, which runs 73 minutes. How did you decide on that runtime?

I didn’t want to do a quintessential documentary that’s unnecessarily prolonged. I wanted to just make it impactful, make it move, and get out of there. I wanted people to want more and feel like they went somewhere. I didn’t get bogged down with trauma stories and statistics. I want them to look at their watch and say, “Oh my god, it’s almost done! No, why is it done?” I’d rather have that, obviously, than, “Okay, come on. Let’s go.”

The original pitch for the film was on the absence of Black trans women in the workspace. Especially in light of the troubling trends of the past few years, is this something you want to revisit?

I’ve already started a new project with a fabulous production team that’s very known and successful. We’re in early development stages. It’s not LGBT. I’m going to definitely take a break from that because I want to really explore everything else I’m interested in. I’m covering things that matter to me and a lot of people. I have about three or four projects on the table, and they’re all great opportunities. I want to pace myself and prioritize those projects.

Since the film’s premiere at Sundance, there’s been the unfortunate tragedy of Koko Da Doll’s tragic murder. How does the film feel with that shadow cast over it? Were there any considerations to re-edit, or did you think the film should stand as a testament to the way that she lived and who she was?

I wasn’t going to touch it. There are some things that are so haunting, obviously, after her murder. It might even might be easier to edit things, but it’s not easy. It wouldn’t be fair to edit or censor her after her passing. That would be ridiculous. But what I do take away from it is that there’s a reason why she was in this film, and thank God I did film her before she passed. She would have been deemed as just another transgender woman murdered in Atlanta, Georgia, which definitely wouldn’t have gotten any kind of coverage. I’m just grateful that I was able to meet her and add her to this film before she was murdered.