Girl on Film

Meade's Brakhage: The Final Word opened at the Tribeca Film Festival in 2005. Huggins' debut film made it to the Sundance Film Festival last year. Also last year, the Independent Film Channel bought Willmott's C.S.A. and put the film in theaters nationwide. And the special-effects wizardry that Branit and Hunt pulled off in 405 made the short (it was about a DC-10 landing on the Los Angeles freeway) an Internet sensation in 2000, with Rolling Stone listing it as a "Hot Web Movie."

But Evans' most important films never screen at festivals.

The cast and crew are a group of teenage delinquents, and their work probably won't be seen by anyone outside of their families.

Her most recent project with them starts in late August, when nine teenagers crowd into a muggy classroom at the Boys and Girls Club at 43rd Street and Cleveland. Most of the kids come from single-parent homes. They wear baggy denim shorts and basketball jerseys or Tupac T-shirts. The Jackson County Family Court requires them to be here for 10 weeks as part of their probation.

The young men have been sent to this program, called Sentenced to the Arts, as creative therapy for crimes that include assault, car theft, shoplifting and burglary.

Over the course of five weeks, Evans will collaborate with the teens on a short film: something like a public service announcement but more hard-hitting.

The class is run by Brett Winston, a laid-back but wise instructor. He isn't afraid to joke with the kids or raise his voice to regain control of his room.

This is Evans' third meeting with the teens. The first couple of days were rocky. The boys were closed off. Today, though, they're talking about death in their neighborhoods, high gas prices and pit bulls. Evans asks for examples of movie scenes — funny or serious — with violence or drugs. They talk about the dope-smoking comedy Friday and the seminal urban movie Boyz N the Hood.

"What's the tone of Boyz N the Hood?" Evans asks. "How do you feel when you watch it?"

"It's more of a drama," says Eric, who is sharply dressed in a suit and tie.

Someone brings up Denzel Washington's bad-cop action flick Training Day.

"What's the message of that?" Evans asks.

"Don't be a crooked cop," says Damon, a small, wiry guy in a tank top.

"Don't sell drugs," Eric says. "Don't be crooked, period."

Somebody brings up 1993's Menace II Society, about a young black man trying to escape the ghetto.

"What I got of that is, don't do drugs," says the kid in the suit. "Crack is whack."

"Have you guys seen someone so whacked out on drugs?" Evans asks.

The boys mumble yesses.

"What about drive-bys? Do you guys see that happening?"

More affirmative mumbles.

"One happened two blocks from me," one boy says.

"Is it over things that are worth taking lives for?"

A few mumble no.

Evans suggests that they make a film that shows the consequences of drugs and violence.

The kids start spitting out concepts. In an hour, they've come up with a six-scene short about two brothers on separate paths. The older brother gets locked up. After big brother's arrest, little brother tries to fill big brother's shoes. He wants to pull licks — rob houses — but after a jailhouse talk, he backs out.

A week later, filming starts on Pullin' Licks. An older-looking boy with a slight Afro, Joe wears a gray prison jumpsuit and sits across a metal table from Damon. Handcuffs clang on the steel table. Evans leans against a wall and uses a mini DV camera to film them running their lines.

The director is 16-year-old Eric, who spent two months under house arrest at a group home. He graduated from the program but has returned to help Winston.

A homemade tattoo on Eric's left hand depicts a crudely drawn tombstone with the epitaph "RIP, bro." Eric made the tattoo himself at age 14 as a tribute to his brother, who was shot and killed. His brother would be 26 now.

Eric used to have a problem with authority. Three Kansas City high schools kicked him out before his junior year. His hands are scarred from punching walls.

Now, he's angling around the edge of the scene, holding a script.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on," he tells Joe and Damon, who are clearly camera-shy. "Make a couple of facial expressions. Move your head like you're talking to one of your homies."

The next take, Damon and Joe show more emotion. But Eric still has some suggestions. "You can't just sit there and be all plain-looking," Eric tells Damon.

They run through the scene again, and it's another tight reading.

"That was good," Evans says. "That was great. You guys did good."

They go over nuances. When Joe reveals that he knows Damon is pulling a lick with Brad, Eric says, "Boy, you gotta look more surprised. You're still acting, like, nonchalant about it.

"Man, you gotta be happy to see your little bro," Eric tells Joe.

Evans encourages Joe: "You're getting better with feeling."