Girl on Film

Evans read the note in disbelief. "Lisa, my name is Larry. I live near Austin, Texas. Do you know who I am? Do you wish to communicate?"

After she thought about it, Evans sent another e-mail asking Tebben for more information.

He wrote back, telling her how he'd met her mother and explaining that he'd found her through her Web site (www.indyoutties.com). They exchanged e-mails and finally talked on the phone a couple of times.

Evans felt torn. She hadn't heard many positive things about Tebben, but when she talked to him, he seemed like a nice guy.

Evans told Tebben that she was making a movie about meeting her biological father for the first time. He agreed to let her record their conversations.

"I was nervous because I was on camera, too," Evans says. "But we pretty much didn't delve too far into things with those conversations. We've taken things slow."

The two agreed to meet in late October, with Evans' camera rolling.

By mid-November, Evans had returned from Texas. The leap from auteur to subject had been a struggle.

In the third-floor living space that Evans rents in midtown, she reflects on the meeting. Artwork on the walls is an unintentional reflection of her filmography: A pastel painting by her friend Lori Raye Erickson shows a Boy Scout saluting a rainbow flag; another painting of a woman reveals, on closer inspection, a penis.

Evans can't shake the weird feelings from meeting Tebben. "Sometimes it was hard for me to show my personality and let that come through because I was just kind of numb. I was like, Fuck, I don't know what I feel. Am I supposed to feel a certain way and try to adjust that?"

Stalking Daddy is still in its infancy. Evans isn't sure where the story is headed. She says she wants to make it into a short documentary, maybe 10 minutes long. She says she'll do the first edit and then pass it on to another filmmaker for the second edit. That way, she won't hold back.

"I'm too much [involved] in it to be able to do it justice," she admits.

For now, Stalking Daddy is on the back burner. Recently, she agreed to be an associate producer for University of Missouri-Kansas City film professor Daven Gee's documentary exploring what a dead shopping mall — Indian Springs — says about American culture. His project, Our Mall, follows Wyandotte County's attempt to claim the mall through eminent domain.

Our Mall has been a two-and-a-half-year project. Gee says he brought Evans on well into production to help set up a Valentine's Day fund-raiser and screening at the mall. He wants to invite people from the area to come back to Indian Springs and rediscover the mall.

Meanwhile, Evans isn't the only one struggling with Stalking Daddy. The interviews with her family were uncomfortable, Evans says, and they're still feeling the hangover from the filming. "It's something they haven't dealt with in a long time, and it is changing dynamics a little bit and affecting people."

"It's been a conflict between us, just because it's something from the past that is now being brought in the forefront," Kathy Evans says. "We didn't agree on it, and I'm not sure that I still do. But I know that that's how she's trying to come to terms with it, or how she was dealing with it was to do it through the camera."

Mike Evans didn't mind that Lisa wanted to meet her biological father; he even offered to take her to Texas. But he didn't want to be filmed.

Evans isn't sure how her family will react when they see the film — or if they'll even want to see it. But, she says, she thinks they'll be pleasantly surprised. "I want them to enjoy it and see where I'm coming from and see my process, probably more so than other people," Evans says. "Hopefully, they'll like it, because I don't want to be a shit and put something that's going to make them look a certain way. But also, I have to be true with it. So we'll see what it looks like when it comes out."

Like Evans' family, Kansas City audiences will have to wait to see what her most personal film will look like.

"It's time for me to learn more," Evans says.