Husband and wife directing team Daniel and Bayou each have such a backstory.
Born in the ancient city of Jaffa, Israel, Daniel’s happy childhood world turned upside down in 1990. “There was an announcement on the radio,” he remembers, that “Saddam Hussein had invaded Kuwait. The tension was so intense.”
“We want to open people’s eyes.”
As the Gulf War escalated, Iraq initiated a missile offensive against Israel, with neighboring Tel Aviv—barely three miles from Daniel’s home—a primary target. With the day-and-night thunder of bombs and ever-present danger of chemical warfare, the constant whine of air raid sirens became routine, alerting the populace to don their government-issued gas masks and scurry to safety. The all-clear signal simply meant a temporary reprieve before the next attack, an opportunity to peek outside and see if your neighborhood was still there and your friends still alive.
Daniel’s mom had seen enough and moved the family to America. But though he was now a safe distance from death and horror, the childhood experience made a permanent impression on Daniel, who was left with a thirst to make things better in a too-violent and unforgiving world.
Bayou’s coming of age, while free of bombs and bloodshed, led her to a similar resolve via an entirely different path. A high school exchange program brought her to the New Zealand wilderness—to uninhabited islands and the tops of snowcapped mountains. “It pushed me to my physical and mental limits,” she told Freedom. “I came out of that experience feeling like I could do anything. I also met people from many different cultures, which was eye-opening for me—especially coming from a small town. That trip taught me resilience, strength and a broader view of the world.”
At the same time, Bayou experienced just how powerful a medium film can be. A new feature, Once Were Warriors, had driven home to her the effects of colonization—poverty, domestic violence and cultural loss. The movie, a fictionalized account of real-life issues faced by the Maori, had a powerful impact, fueling a push for change in support of ancestral land, indigenous rights and the revival of te reo, the Maori language, in schools.
“That summer abroad in New Zealand was such a pivotal time in my life—it completely shifted how I saw the world and myself,” she said.
Some might witness a dire situation like a war or rampant poverty, where millions endure unimaginable suffering, and ask: “Why did this happen?”
Others are less interested in “why” in favor of: “How do we fix this?”
Both Daniel and Bayou fit the latter category. And each arrived at the same answer: film. A screen filled with images and emotion can’t be argued with. Add to that equation truth and urgency, and you have social impact, with the world as its stage.
You can sense that urgency on the set. “Say the line with oomph!” Bayou shakes a fist to punctuate the point to the actor.
Oomph is commitment, passion, the sense that what is seen on the screen must spur the viewer to awareness and action. That oomph is how Bayou and Daniel create their stories. Or, as Bayou sums it up, “We want to open people’s eyes.”
One such eye-opener was a drama, Tombstone Pillow, based on a real-life situation. In Manila, a city strained by poverty and swollen with migrants from the countryside who fled in search of a better life, thousands were finding refuge in cemeteries. Among tombstones and mausoleums, the living made their homes atop the dead. With no access to sanitation or electricity, they inhabited makeshift shanties or slept directly on graves. Some survived by tending memorial plots for those who could afford the maintenance. Others earned a few pesos as “exhumers,” tasked with unearthing remains after a grave’s five-year lease expired if the family was unable or unwilling to renew.
The filmmakers were determined to tell the story of the thousands of human beings living this way. It was, to put it mildly, a challenge. “We were up against so much in terms of dealing with extreme poverty and dealing with managing a hundred cast and crew,” Daniel says. “It was a very tall order.”
One major problem was that the lead actress couldn’t take it—the stench, the filth, the squalor, the crawling insects, the haunting weight of the dead beneath her feet. Paralyzed, she couldn’t deliver her lines.
Thankfully, Daniel’s Scientology training included assists, techniques developed by L. Ron Hubbard to alleviate shock and emotional trauma. Daniel, administering an assist to the actress, quickly had her oriented, calm and able to function. Ultimately, Tombstone Pillow was his and Bayou’s most acclaimed, most daring and most challenging project. It’s also the one they’re proudest of.
Wielding the power of film, the duo, known as Dream Team Directors, have exposed and attacked the dragons of our time—pollution, poverty, war, drugs, corruption and other global crises—and have made a real impact.
Rather than judging success by box office numbers, they gauge it by the number of “yeses” they can answer in response to questions like these: Did our film change hearts and minds? Did it reach people? Help a nonprofit get noticed? Raise awareness about an underserved community? Sound the alarm otherwise unsounded over a corporate failing that imperils millions?
Their style of filmmaking—driven by a desire to inspire real-world change—has caught the attention of fellow changemakers. Mark Ruffalo, for example, worked with them on a film exposing the dangers of toxic oil wells in poor neighborhoods of Los Angeles. Viral violin sensation Lindsey Stirling is another. Bayou and Daniel made an inspirational music video, “Angels We Have Heard on High,” featuring Ms. Stirling’s talents and celebrating the heroes and first responders of Hurricane Harvey—one of the costliest natural disasters in American history.
As they progress with their Scientology counseling and training, Bayou and Daniel find that stories now come to them as often—if not more—as they seek them out. “Every project that’s coming along,” says Daniel, “is something that we really want to do.” Or as Bayou puts it, the more you progress in Scientology, “the more your life becomes what you really want it to be.”
