Movies & TV

Meet Canadian Filmmaker Ally Pankiw

Her debut feature, I Used to Be Funny, is available on VOD now.

by : Patricia Karounos- Aug 23rd, 2024

Taylor James

Even if you haven’t realized it, you’ve seen the work of Ally Pankiw. The Canadian filmmaker worked as a story editor on Schitt’s Creek, has directed and produced music videos for the likes of Ariana Grande and Janelle Monáe, has worked on campaigns for brands such as Chanel and Loewe and has directed standout episodes of Mae Martin’s Netflix series Feel Good, Elle Fanning’s period dramedy The Great and British anthology series Black Mirror. Still, it took some time for her to figure out a key part of her filmmaking identity. “When I started getting chances to direct, I felt like I had to dress like [Lord of the Rings film series director] Peter Jackson,” says Pankiw, who splits her time between Toronto and L.A. “I was like, ‘I can’t actually be feminine on-set or I won’t be taken seriously.’ I would wear, like, work boots and polar fleece. And then the more I took myself seriously as a director and started gaining confidence and being like: ‘This is what I do. This is my job,’ [the more] I was able to lean into my femininity on-set. Now, I want to dress even more feminine than I might normally because I want to challenge people’s perception of what a director can look like.” That same boldness comes through onscreen in Pankiw’s debut feature film, I Used to Be Funny, which hit theatres to rave reviews earlier this summer and is available on demand now. Starring Rachel Sennott (Bottoms, Bodies Bodies Bodies), the movie follows a stand-up comedian who is struggling with PTSD and must face her trauma in order to help in the search for a missing teenage girl she used to nanny. It’s tense, compelling, deeply felt and a sure sign that this is only the beginning for Pankiw.

LONG JOURNEY “I started writing the script in 2013. It wasn’t shootable at that point—it was a draft. I really wanted to speak in a more authentic way to the experience of healing and recovery; I wanted to find a slightly more nuanced way to talk about those things. They’re often centred on, like, a very male, conventional narrative arc of ‘winning’ to heal—whether that be [through] vengeance, justice or retribution. That’s where the story would end. Maybe that’s beneficial to the healing process for some people, but it’s definitely not the end of many women’s recovery. I wanted to talk about the slog and day-to-day minutiae of recovery and how trauma bleeds out and has a ripple effect on so many different interpersonal relationships. It’s not some grand hero’s journey.”

KEEPING IT REAL “If anything, [the script] kept getting more relevant. When I first started writing it, it was like a personal exploration of themes that have been part of my life. Then, after #MeToo, there was sort of an explosion of retribution storylines around this type of subject matter, so my want and need for something that handled [the topic] a bit more delicately—speaking about it the way my friends and I actually speak about these types of things—became even more important. The thing that was buried or not focused on a lot was the loss of humour and joy. If we don’t protect young women in society, we lose so much perspective, voice, comedy and artistic contribution. And that loss happens very quietly—we don’t even really notice it’s happening.”

READY OR NOT “I felt ready [to make a movie] in terms of knowing how to tell the story and knowing how to make it all happen, but I didn’t feel ready in terms of the amount of money and the shoot days [needed]. We had very few resources—we only had 18 days [to shoot], and we had a very small budget. We were sort of staring down the barrel. But you have to just go when you can go; you have to make something as soon as you can make it because you might not get another chance. That’s also part of the fun and craziness of filmmaking—sometimes you have to do it before you’re ready.”

ONSCREEN FASHION The story that clothing can tell—what it can tell us about a character, a person, a history—is really exciting. I’ve always made fun of male directors who dress women like a manic pixie dream girl—say, in a babydoll dress—or the classic comedy girl in a tank top with an open checkered shirt overtop. There’s no specificity. For a really long time, fashion was an interest, not something you [associated] with a filmmaker. But why wouldn’t you care about how things are presented aesthetically or how [clothing] moves? That only makes you a more-tuned-in director. Caring about how young women actually want to present themselves makes for more authentic character building. I don’t think it’s silly—and I think you can tell when a director does it.”