Producer/Director/Co-writer Meema Spadola talks about the challenges of filming inside a court, first learning about the Red Hook Community Justice Center and the importance of balancing personal and social responsibility.

What motivated you to make RED HOOK JUSTICE?

I first began working on this project in early 2000. Originally, my producing partner Thom Powers and I wanted to make a documentary about New York City’s Legal Aid Society to examine legal services options for low-income people. Early on, we met Brett Taylor at Legal Aid, who told us that he was being transferred to the new Red Hook Community Justice Center. We went to visit the Justice Center, which was still being renovated, and it was clear that we had found our story: an ambitious legal experiment taking place in a single building in an isolated, low-income Brooklyn neighborhood. We learned that the Department of Justice was watching and that if the Red Hook court succeeded, it would be replicated across the country. The stakes felt so high that we knew we had to make this documentary.

How and why did you choose to profile the people featured in the film? How did you meet and develop a relationship with them, and gain their trust?

I spent a lot of time at the Justice Center talking with staff and watching the day-to-day routine before we began shooting. The nature of the Justice Center meant that defendants made frequent court appearances, so they had a chance to get to know the crew and me. Of course we followed many more stories than we could include in the final cut. Every day, there’s some new and amazing story unfolding in Red Hook.

What were some of the challenges you faced in making this film?

Beyond the major challenge of never having enough money, there was the overarching concern of filming in an institution like a court. The defendants we met were at a moment of crisis in their lives, and it was important that our filming not produce more stress or problems or interfere with their cases. I know that our cameras—as much as we tried to be unobtrusive—created more of a focus on the defendants we followed.

What impact do you hope this film will have?

As the Justice Center model spreads across the United States, it’s important that people understand how these kinds of courts function. I hope that viewers will consider the successes or failures of the defendants in the context of the neighborhood and think about the larger question of what we need beyond an institute like the Justice Center and how we can balance personal and societal responsibility. What would it mean if quality housing, education, jobs and health care were available in Red Hook, and in other poor neighborhoods nationwide? Of course, crime and substance abuse wouldn’t be eradicated, but how would creating more opportunities for success help future generations thrive?

The independent film business is a difficult one. What keeps you motivated?

Those times when I get to see viewers connect with a documentary I’ve made—being moved or surprised or challenged—make the struggle worth it.

Why did you choose to present your film on public television?

Where else could I have final cut and not worry about where to put my commercial breaks? Also, as the Red Hook Community Justice Center is replicated across the country, it’s important to me that anyone who wants to can see this documentary on a non-subscription channel.

What are your three favorite films?

This list changes on a regular basis. I’ll name two recent documentaries that I think are must-sees: Carlos Bosch and Josep Maria Domenech’s Los Balseros, which followed Cuban refugees over a period of seven years, and The Passion of Maria Elena by Mercedes Moncada Rodriguez, about an indigenous Mexican woman who is seeking justice for her son who was killed by a hit and run driver.

If you weren’t a filmmaker, what kind of work do you think you’d be doing?

I’d be a full-time political activist and knitter. I now juggle both on the side.

What do you think is the most inspirational food for making independent film?

When shooting in Red Hook, the amazing old-style Italian sandwiches at DeFonte’s kept us going.

What advice do you have for aspiring filmmakers?

A friend told me years ago as I was starting out: “Stupid people make films all the time—I know you can do better.” Occasionally, it helps to remember this.

What sparks your creativity?

Friends, dreaming, knitting.