Cube Critics Jacob Aloi and Max Sparber discuss “Finding Her Beat” and “Marmalade.” Plus a Cube Critics extra: An interview with taiko drummer Jennifer Weir.
The following is a transcription of the audio heard using the player above, lightly edited for clarity.
MPR News Arts Editor Max Sparber: Jacob, what did you see?
MPR News Arts Reporter Jacob Aloi: Okay, hang on, wait! Max Sparber! And with that, I’m Jacob Aloi.
Sparber: And I’m Max Sparber.
Both: This is Cube Critics!
Aloi: So, Max, I watched a documentary this week called “Finding Her Beat,” which was actually filmed largely here in Minnesota, about an event that took place in Minnesota.
Sparber: Nice.
Aloi: It’s about taiko drumming. Now for some context, taiko drumming is a Japanese art form that traditionally only men are allowed to be taiko drummers. But there has been a movement of women and nonbinary people that want to be recognized for their contributions to the art form.
And in 2020, there was a concert that was put on locally and it was produced and sort of artistically directed by Jennifer Weir, who is the executive director of a local taiko group called TaikoArts Midwest.
The film kind of follows this Avengers-style collection of the best minds of taiko women and nonbinary individuals who have been drumming in Taiko. And they put on this concert. It follows the ups and downs and all of the stress that comes with doing it, and also the stress of the looming threat of COVID. It was filmed right up to it.
So I highly recommend it. It is available widely on Amazon Prime Video for rent or to buy.
Sparber: Local filmmakers?
Aloi: Yes, local filmmakers Dawn Mikkelson and Keri Pickett were the co-directors.
Sparber: Jacob, I also saw a film that was lensed locally. This is a work of fiction. It is the first film directed by an actor, Keir O’Donnell, and you probably know him best as Todd in “The Wedding Crashers” — he’s the arty younger brother.
This is a result of something that is called Snowbate. It’s a tax credit offered to filmmakers that existed for a while and then didn’t — and now is back. And like a lot of Minnesota-filmed movies, you don’t necessarily know that it’s in Minnesota, like, Minnesota is just available as a set. It’s sort of a general regional film. Everybody’s got Southern accents for some reason.
That being said, I don’t really care if I know it’s in Minnesota. I just like the fact that we’re making movies here.
The film stars Joe Keery, probably best known as The Haircut from “Stranger Things.” He was also on this year’s season of “Fargo” and he was great in it — another Minnesota connection.
Let me tell you the plot: The film starts off amiably. It’s about a manic pixie dream girl, but what if she’s a criminal — and a very dangerous criminal. But I will say it starts getting twisty about half an hour in and then just gets twistier and twistier.
And sometimes I don’t really like twists in movies. But this time, it really works. First of all, it’s really good at the twists — you think you know where it’s going, and you are guessing wrong every time. And secondly, each of the twists actually make the film deeper, weirder and more fun.
And so I love that. Again, the film is called “Marmalade.” It's in several Marcus theaters locally, and it’s also available on streaming.
Aloi: Hey, I’m Jacob Aoi, and I’m one of the Cube Critics. I have two things I wanted to add really quickly to this podcast version of Cube Critics.
One, Max talks about a Minnesota tax credit that exists here that is meant to entice filmmakers to come to Minnesota to shoot movies. There’s actually an article all about that from one of our reporters here at MPR News, Feven Gerezgiher. You can check that out on our website.
And two, I actually did an interview with one of the subjects of the documentary that I watched, “Finding Her Beat,” Jennifer Weir — she was also one of the producers on the project. And I talked to her about how she got into taiko and what it was like to be the subject of a documentary.
Jennifer Weir: I grew up as a Korean adoptee in North Dakota and really didn’t have any references for Asian American culture at all. And so when I moved to the Twin Cities to pursue a theater career in my young early 20s, I met Rick Shiomi. And he rolled out a taiko drum at a Theater Mu event and played for, you know, 45 seconds. And I just thought it was the coolest thing I’d ever seen.
And so at that time, a group of us begged Rick to teach us. Like, teach us what this is, this is so cool. And the story goes that he was very reluctant because he knew how hard it was and how much work it took. So he thought, “Ah, actors are lazy. I’ll give a six-week class and they'll go away and see how hard it is.” But it really stuck.
I’ve said, like, I don’t really have any cultural claim to taiko but taiko really claimed me. And from then on, I just grew and fell in love with it and wanted to learn more about it and wanted to expand my skills. And so I kind of just grew up and found my adulthood through Asian American theater and through taiko drumming.
Aloi: The documentary “Finding Her Beat” documents the process of putting on this concert that happened in 2020 — verging on when COVID really took over. And it talks about the history of, you know, the wanting to have this kind of collection of the great minds of taiko that are not men, right? And could you just explain a little bit about the history of women and nonbinary people being in taiko. Because you think about, like, traditionally how taiko has been performed. And it’s traditionally performed by men.
Weir: Yeah, I would say going back thousands of years in Japanese culture, they thought these drums were a great way to speak to the gods. And so the only person who should be the intermediary would be a male. And so that tradition just kind of stuck for way, way, way too long.
And so, generally, women weren’t allowed to draw more if they are, they were like more in an accessory, off to the side playing an instrument, or dancing kind of position.
And so that continued for hundreds of years. And it was really only in recent decades that that’s flipped. And then when it did flip, it flipped dramatically. And now I would say over 60 percent of taiko drummers are women.
And so in terms of participation, now, everywhere you go, you see women play taiko drums — it’s awesome. But what didn’t shift, and what still needs to shift more is equity.
And that’s like every other field, where you make these inroads, you get people at the table, but they don’t really have the power, they’re not paid the same, they don’t have the same promotion, the same kind of opportunities. They’re not part of the narrative in the same way. And so that change is really what Her Beat, the concert, was about trying to address — and the film as well.
And knowing, of course, we’re a part of a larger movement and the #MeToo movement was happening. And, you know, it’s just time for people in the margins to step forward and really claim their space.
Some of my heroes, like the people that I think are the coolest drummers on earth, were people who for decades weren’t allowed to drum. Like, they were allowed to practice, they were allowed to teach, but they weren’t allowed allowed to perform.
And I think it’s more challenging in Japan than here, because gender roles are a little bit different there. But even the ways that you drum in terms of who’s playing the biggest, most powerful drumming. That, again, has traditionally been men — and women now are becoming power drummers, thanks to people like Tiffany Tamaribuchi, and more.
But then we get to define power on our own terms, instead of just being like, Oh, we can play as well as the men. How about power can look different?
It really was her dream to have this Avengers-style gathering. And she shared that dream with me. And then I just, I kind of shared it with the right people who said yes.
And then once I got a couple of yeses, like folks at the Ordway, or the Knight Foundation, people who wanted to fund this idea, then suddenly what seemed like a pipe dream was possible. And it was happening, even faster than I was ready for. So I got to thank people all along the way, who supported this idea.
Aloi: You know, with this documentary, also, there’s a lot of vulnerable moments. It’s a very intimate documentary, right? We see people get sick, we see certainly your marriage — and I should say that your wife is featured in the documentary as well.
Weir: And our daughter.
Aloi: And so there’s a lot of really, I mean, lovely intimate moments, but also moments that I think a lot of people would be afraid to have in a documentary. And so what was that experience like? Having yourself be kind of the subject of the documentary while also being the one who’s producing the documentary and producing the concert — and also part of this long lineage of women trying to get recognition in the Taiko world?
Weir: Well, I would say that thankfully, I was so busy that that was really the last of my concerns. It is a very strange feeling to have cameras in your home, in your kitchen, in your bedroom. But it is because I have such trust in the co-directors, Dawn Mikkelson and Keri Pickett.
One thing that Keri and Dawn decided early in this film was their approach. And they decided to approach this in a cinéma vérité style, which, I learned as we went, means it’s a fly on the wall. They don’t come in with a pre-ordained idea of what’s going to happen or how they’re going to shoot it. They don’t set you aside and, you know, ask interviews and take questions and do things like that.
They just follow the action where it is. They show up with such artistry and integrity, and you know that they see you and they believe you and they’re supporting you. They’re not trying to catch you in a gotcha moment. They’re trying to celebrate who you are, and share your passion with other people.
So there was sort of this, it’s not like people came from the outside, and were like, we’re gonna do this documentary. And, you know, we’re coming to your house at this time. It’s like, these are people that are embedded in my community.
Dawn, I’ve known for decades. And Keri, I got to know him through the film. But they have shared values. Like, for example, it was Dawn and Keri’s vision that every person who worked on this film crew was either female, nonbinary, Asian, queer, or a combination thereof. And that’s really unusual, they worked really hard to seek those people out and to promote and elevate them as well.
And so what happened is everyone who was working on this film, had skin in the game, like they felt like it was their story, because they connected to the people in front of the camera and vice versa. So it became this extended family where we’re all eating together, and we’re all exhausted together. And we’re all getting sick together. And so I think that was a really rare thing to be living in that bubble for a while.
Aloi: Is there anything else you want to say about the documentary, about taiko, about, you know, your work within the world of taiko, or anything connected to this experience, having very cool moment in taiko history documented in film?
Weir: I just feel very grateful. I feel very excited because I think for many people, taiko is relatively unknown still. And I just want more people to fall in love with it and to try it and taiko has such a healing, connecting empowering energy around it. And I think we need more of that.
And I think this film, you know, I think, in some ways, it celebrates what I love about people, people who get doors slammed in their face, and they still show up, and they still bring their heart, their biggest heart, and all of their artistry forward and they keep going and going and going.
It’s so stunning. I don’t know how people do it and how they keep that faith, you know, and I feel like this is a film for the underdog. So in that way, I’m just so proud of it. And I want people to see it. I want people to fall in love with taiko and I want there to be a whole generation of taiko drummers that that come up the ranks.
