Emily Jampel Revisits Herself in Coming-Of-Age Mānoa Valley

Mixed Asian Media - July 23, 2024

By Angela Wong Carbone

 
Director Emily Jampel leans against a large tree trunk while wearing a light-colored coat and a dark scarf. She has one hand in her pocket while the other reaches for her ear.

Photo credit: Devin Blaskovich

 

Emily Jampel’s Mānoa Valley is a fitting companion to her previous film, Lucky Fish. Jampel returns with actor Lukita Maxwell onscreen in a narrative that continues to explore identity, growing pains, and belonging set among the island sunsets of Jampel’s stomping ground of Hawai‘i. Jampel returned to speak with MAM’s Angela Wong Carbone about fleshing out nostalgia, reliving memories of her inner child, and hopes for her future filmmaker self. 

This interview is part of the 5 Filmmakers to Watch series. Check out our interviews with Chelsie Pennello, Maegan Houang, Alexandra Qin, and the team behind FutureProof!

*THIS INTERVIEW HAS BEEN EDITED FOR CLARITY AND LENGTH.


Interview


What first compelled you to make films?

I was working for producers and watching shorts constantly. I got free grad school through that. A lot of times I was the youngest person in my office, working for producers who were much older than me, so as a creative outlet and for fun, I would help friends on their shorts. I ended up acting in some shorts and then got to learn how sets were run from directors who were not that much older than me, or even younger than me. So, it made directing feel very approachable. 

There’s so much more to our experiences as mixed Asians that media doesn’t always tap into, but your films explore. They have a quiet contemplation — a lot of questioning identity. Where does that come from?

I think it has so much to do with just my personal experience. I think when most people stereotypically think of someone who’s mixed, they think of someone who’s half-white and half-something else.

I’m 75% Asian and 25% white. It doesn’t fit into a box. I’m someone who’s born and raised in Hawai‘i, but I’m not Hawaiian. As someone who has been living in New York for 11 years, I’m navigating where my sense of home is and where I’m supposed to be. Even creatively, I direct but I’ve also done all these other things. It’s a common theme trying to figure out where I fit in in all these groups.

 

Photo courtesy of Emily Jampel

 

In your latest film, Mānoa Valley, the story centers on a young woman not sure what she’s supposed to become. Why does that time of life intrigue you?

I love coming-of-age movies. It’s a very visceral time. It’s the first time you’re asking big questions, like, “Who do I want to be? Where do I belong? What do I do with my life?”

As I get older, I’m reliving versions of the same relationships or situations that I did at that time in my life. There’s something about revisiting what feels like the original place where it began as an investigation of those emotions and experiences. It’s also more exciting because everything’s the first time. There’s a huge sense of unknown. Retrospectively, the stakes were never lower, but also in some ways, the stakes felt so high.

That was probably when I felt everything the most in life. And for films, that’s very exciting. 

You start to repeat those things and get back to your inner child, right? You continue to experience things that bring you back to those formative moments. 

It’s interesting to make films that are loosely inspired by people or times in my life. I rewatch the film and realize like, “Oh, I’m still here and I still have this dynamic with my family.” I was just back in Hawai‘i and I was walking on the same streets in the film having a very similar experience as the character in it. I thought, “Wow, I’m almost 30 and I’m still here.”

 
A scene from Mānoa Valley shows headstones in the foreground, houses and three tall palm trees in the middle, and lush green mountains in the far distance.

Photo courtesy of Emily Jampel

 

Tell me about the film community in Hawai‘i. There’s almost like this liquid memory, a viscerality that coats all the work of Hawaiian filmmakers I have watched. You can feel the thickness of the air, the light. What does it means to be a filmmaker in that cohort and what does Hawai‘i mean to you in terms filmic language? 

It’s a lot of trying to capture a very specific feeling of what it’s like to be there. When I make a film, I’m so aware of the environment. Hawai‘i is almost a character. Everything from the breeze and the way the trees move and the way the clouds look at a certain time feels intrinsic to the lived experience or my memory. I have a lot of emotional attachment to those details as a filmmaker. I want to capture them. 

I’ve only discovered the film community the past couple of years from making my short. I haven’t lived full-time in Hawai‘i since I was a teenager. I was scared to shoot there because it felt like my experiences in Hawai‘i were all as a teen. I wanted to be prepared. So, I met with a lot of Hawai‘i filmmakers and asked how it was filming there. They were all so supportive. Even people who were extremely busy made time for me.

There aren’t many films in mainstream media that are made in Hawai‘i. It’s such a special place, and I love being part of this larger community that wants to represent this place we care about in a way that feels more honest.

 
 
 
Lukita Maxwell stands on a curb and Derec Patrick Juan pushes a skateboard in a scene from Mānoa Valley.

Photo courtesy of Emily Jampel

 

If you could leave a time capsule for your future filmmaker self, what would be in it? 

I’m at a time where I’ve discovered something that I really love doing, which is directing. Having made a few films and projects, I feel really confident and comfortable in that role.

What I’m trying to figure out is the rest of my life. How do you have a job that offers stability but is also flexible enough to continue to direct or go to film festivals? How do you maintain close friendships and relationships while being very far away or being someone who disappears to work on a project for three months?

I hope when I’m older I can figure out achieving more balance. Years ago, I would just dive into work obsessively. But, films are also about life. You need to have a balanced life to sustainably make films and be happy. With films, the goal is always out of reach: “Once I finish this script, once I get enough money, once I find the perfect producer, then I can stop freaking out.”

Beyond the roller coaster, you’ve also gotta live your life. 


End of Interview


Emily Jampel’s film Mānoa Valley premiered at Aspen Film Festival in April 2024, and her documentary Minseo is available on NOWNESS Asia. You can keep up with her future projects on Instagram.

 

Angela Wong Carbone (she/her) is a decorated actor and writer. Her writing has been recognized by AT&T Hello Lab, Hillman Grad’s mentorship program, The Gotham, Slamdance and others. Raised in New York by an immigrant Chinese mother and Italian American father, Wong Carbone’s personal curiosity toward identity saturates her writing and she has contributed to Eileen Kelly’s Killer and a Sweet Thang and Lulu Gioiello’s Far Near. As an actor, Wong Carbone has starred in NBC’s Chicago Med, AppleTV+’s WeCrashed and IFC Films’ Resurrection. In 2020, she was selected for the 19th annual ABC Talent Showcase. Wong Carbone holds a degree in architecture from Cornell University and makes a mean lasagna.