Film Director POSY KAI DIXON on the art of balancing passion & pragmatism
From documenting cult artists on the fringes of the mainstream, to those high on the peak of celebrity culture (Kendall Jenner, Kim Kardashian and Serena Williams, to name-drop a few), Posy Kai Dixon is a filmmaker who defies pigeonholing. Their feature film Keyboard Fantasies was nominated for a BAFTA in 2022, and their work has been shown on the BBC, Channel 4, Bloomberg, and at the Tate, ICA, and Barbican UK, as well as MoMA PS1, New York.
We caught up with Dixon to talk about formative creative experiences, juggling money jobs, and the joy of connecting people.
I like introducing new people to each other through my film-making
Sascha Behrendt: What are your first memories of being creative?
Posy Kai Dixon: Building dens out of sofa pillows and boats from cardboard boxes at my aunt’s house, aged around four. Like, big, multi-level structures you could get inside.
SB: How did it feel?
PKD: Those memories definitely hinge around a feeling that I’d achieved something previously undefinable. You’ve turned an everyday familiar object into an escape vessel. This kind of thing still works for me.
SB: Were there key figures in your life who inspired you, and in what way?
PKD: I’ve got a pretty whacky Dad from Hawaii who is great at making stuff. He can build anything. He used to build boats, so he worked cubby holes, lockers, and light-up showers into the houses he refurbished for us. He’d make peanut butter, banana, honey, and raisin sandwiches for lunch, a diabetes-inducing concoction potentially inspired by his appreciation of all things 420.
SB: What made you get into filmmaking, how did you start?
PKD: I was scratching my way into journalism writing for magazines when I realised that my dyslexia and career ambitions were opposing forces, so I looked for alternatives. At this point, Vice had just started making low-budget documentaries (on VBS.TV), so I knocked on the door and got a £50-a-day deal as an Associate Producer. I had no idea what I was doing. From there I learned on the job. Everyone at Vice was under-qualified and underpaid, so we were all making it up as we went along. It was a bit of a sink-or-swim environment. It worked for me as I like independence and had enough life experience under my belt before I got there to know how to deal with the shittier side of the organisation.
SB: Do you have favourites out of the films you have made?
PKD: Keyboard Fantasies. Hands down.
SB: Can you share why?
PKD: Going back to the building a den analogy, I grafted away at that project and with the help of many talented collaborators, something more beautiful than I could have imagined appeared at the other end. You can’t separate the film from the music of Glenn Copeland (which the film is about), but together they have connected with audiences all over the world which has been a little stunning.
My only regret is that I wrote 'a film by Posy Dixon’ on the first poster we made, as I wanted so badly for people to take me seriously as a director. I realise now, one year wiser, what a bullshit statement that was, so would like to remove it. Sadly, the internet is a tough nut when it comes to removing past history.
SB: Any film influences or inspirations that have helped your work?
PKD: In documentary, I like films that feel real, not staged or over-produced. Lots of vérité or an inventive way of playing with the relationship between filmmaker and subject. I loved Streetwise (1984) as a kid. Recently one of my favourites has been Trouble (2019) by an artist called Mariah Garnett, and then Lucien Castaing-Taylor and Véréna Paravel’s new film De Humani Corporis Fabrica (2022) literally left me slack-jawed.
In fiction, I like stuff that’s dark but on the edge of humour – generally pretty mainstream stuff that kicks you in the gut. I’m a little obsessed with French director and writer Julia Ducournau right now (Titane, 2021, Raw, 2016). Claire Denis’ Beau Travail (1999) I could watch again and again. I’m in awe of filmmakers who make work that just resonates forever. Spike Lee’s Do The Right Thing (1989), and everything Stanley Kubrick ever touched. And then my teen obsession was Pump Up the Volume (1990). Christian Slater doing a really strong take on teenage angst.
I’m always gunning for those opportunities when the love and the money Venn diagrams overlap
SB: How do you protect and nurture your creativity? Do you maintain certain habits and boundaries to stay free?
PKD: Oh lord. I have no idea. I try really hard to balance the ‘money’ jobs with the ‘love’ jobs. I’m always gunning for those opportunities when the love and the money Venn diagrams overlap. My big boundary is not taking on long projects that I don’t deeply care about.
SB: Your films show with great respect and care, people who transgress or are independent of society’s norms. Did you encounter resistance with choices or while making them? How do you deal with these kinds of difficulties?
PKD: The only issue is finding money to make films about anything that’s not planted firmly in popular culture. And it’s so boring talking about fund-raising. My technique so far has been to do commercial work and use that money to get my own projects started, and then hope that once they’re off the ground and you have a proof of concept, the funds will follow.
SB: What were the biggest risks you’ve taken on your creative journey?
PKD: The first time I flew out to Canada to meet Glenn Copeland (the subject of Keyboard Fantasies), I went last minute, and solo. I’d been trying to raise finance to make a short film with him and was getting nowhere, so when a commercial job cancelled and gave me a paycheck and a week off, I thought: I guess this is it then.
I can remember driving through these huge forests, feeling jet-lagged, a little unsure, and very alone. And then I knocked on Glenn’s studio door and he emerged. I immediately felt like I’d known him forever. We had tuna sandwiches and then his wife Elizabeth took me swimming in a local lake. All too good to be true.
SB: What was at stake for you?
PKD: Stakes in the traditional sense were low. In that I knew whatever happened, I would meet Glenn, we would film him making music, and it would all be okay. But deep down, I think I had this feeling this was the start of something important. But it was all intangible, more of a belly feel. All quite overwhelming.
SB: Any funny or surprising moments?
PKD: In general? Starting to understand taxes. We have the best accountant in the world. Shout out to Vicky.
SB: Do you have key advice for those making a creative leap?
PKD: Save up some money so you have a little nest egg. It makes it much easier to be creatively leaping if there’s a wedge of cash to bounce off when you inevitably hit the ground a few times.
SB: How do you hope your work changes the world for the better?
PKD: HEAVY question!!! I don’t think I can answer that. Okay, I’ll try. I like the idea of introducing new people to each other through my film-making. It’s like a big mixer – this human is so great, you should really meet them, I think you’d love them, and they’d love you. It’s that kind of thing I’m going for.
To discover more, visit posydixon.com
Check out our latest collab with Posy
Posy Loves
visit: F*Choir open sessions
"Join an open rehearsal with London's foremost queer punk choir"
read: Death and the Penguin by Andrey Kurkov
"A darkly humorous novel about an aspiring Ukrainian writer and his pet penguin"
listen: Pum Pum Hour w/ Lil C - Live on Fridays, NTS
"Weekly radio show with party starter and dancehall connoisseur Lil C live in session"
explore: Rosa Kwir
"An online archive revolving around alternative notions of masculinity – bringing together stories of trans men, non-binary and LBQI masc-presenting people living in Malta"