Fancy Dance is a drama that stays with audiences. Even when the story is quiet or focuses on unspoken drama, it is visceral. Director Erica Tremblay‘s film, which stars Lily Gladstone and Isabel DeRoy-Olson, is a road movie shot with remarkable grace by cinematographer Carolina Costa.
Costa has shot a variety of films and television shows, including Insecure, The Graduates, and most recently, FX’s Grotesque. For Fancy Dance, she found herself in Oklahoma, capturing the often harsh sun. It literally and symbolically turns up the heat in Fancy Dance.
The cinematographer spoke with Immersive Media about shooting the impactful film, staying present with the camera, and her eye for portraits.
[Note: This interview has been edited for clarity and length]
What did you appreciate about the light in Oklahoma? What qualities did you want to capture?
Yeah, I think it’s definitely different. We got right in the heat of the summer. I think it was the first couple of days we were scouting, it was like 110 degrees. At night I was just like, oh my God, we’re going to do this. But I think there are two things I really enjoyed, and we were constantly trying, I guess it’s this passion that directors and cinematographers have for magic hour. We didn’t feel it was right for the movie to shoot everything in this most beautiful light because that’s not how it is.
Even in the afternoon, the sun is still pretty high and hitting hard, so we wanted to really portray the reality of what the sun and light are. But also, there’s this interesting, a lot of the places in the Rez, I was curious, like, how am I going to light the nights and stuff? And I was just curious and going around, and actually, there were a lot of dark corners, but then every house had a little different, I don’t know, mosquito light outside the doors and stuff. A lot of that we incorporated when we were shooting so that it felt real to the universe and the world those stories were coming from.
Were you and Erica thinking of any seventies crime movies in particular?
Not really. We watched Fish Tank and Andrea Arnold, just her style of portraying people. She is a big reference for me, and it was definitely one of our references. Really, we were trying to capture the environment and this hush, like that scene when they come out of the store where they were stealing tampons and stuff.
I remember we were shooting there, and it was hot, and the concrete was bouncing so much light, and I was just putting things on the ground to try not to bounce on the actor’s face. But the camera wanted to be free and move with the actors. So I think there’s just a part of it where you have to stop controlling everything, and I think that scene feels so real.
Like you said, Andrea Arnold was an influence for how to do portraits. When you were looking at Lily and Isabel, what qualities of theirs did you really want to capture with the camera?
I think when we thought about the format at the beginning, I wanted to capture a large format. It was really important for us because you don’t get to see a lot of Indigenous women in the center of a screen — or on a screen at all, right? And I think it was just really, really important for us to make them big on the screen, to make them… almost for me, large format has this pop-out ability when you’re portraying people. But you can still see, because of the depth of field, the world around them.
And I think that was really important: to have these beautiful portraits that were dignifying and honest, and at the same time, you could still see the world around them. It wasn’t like we were necessarily interested in just blurring the whole background around them, so you don’t have that connection to the world — that wasn’t what we were looking for.
How’s lighting a scene in a cornfield? They usually look great in movies, but are they tricky environments to shoot?
It was actually the only scene where we used a big light, because for that scene, we had big discussions about the color blue. Another big conversation was about when there was moonlight at night and when there wasn’t. That scene most definitely needed moonlight. Part of the culture for the ancestors — for Erica — is, you know what I mean, the moon is the grandma, it’s the feminine.
That moment in their relationship, when they have that confrontation, that break when she says what “auntie” means in their language, it felt really necessary to have that. So we created that source of moonlight, and yeah, we were shooting deep into the cornfields. It was still hot at night, but it’s one of my favorite scenes. I think the performance from both Isabelle and Lily is just phenomenal. I cry every time I see that scene, actually.
Does that ever happen, when you’re on set? Emotionally, do you get really hit by something?
I mean, it’s not a very common thing, just because there are so many elements that we have to be aware of technically. But I think part of my job as a cinematographer is to prepare as much as possible, then be ready for all the changes on the day. And then having a team of people that can support you so that you can be present.
I think that’s something I learned with maturity, with the amount of years in the industry and my experience — to allow myself to be present because that’s the only way I’ll actually be able to connect emotionally in the scene. That was one of the things on set — it really hit me, that one and the last scene of the movie. I remember when we were shooting, it was just very emotional. But sadly, it’s not a very common thing, but I think it’s important to be present for that.
The final scene is beautiful and tragic. What feelings do you and Erica want to capture here? What did you both want the camera to reinforce?
It’s the final scene and the title of the movie. It is beautiful and devastating at the same time, and it should really leave a lingering feeling right afterward. You’re also thinking, oh, they met, but also, fuck, they’re probably not going to be able to be together right now. We talked from the very beginning, and there’s a sense of scope that’s needed. The space we were shooting in — this museum — there’s also the amount of people. How do you light for a huge night scene? Erica kept talking about wanting the camera to be truly just in Lily’s perspective. So the camera would be with Jax all the time, just kind of seeing the cops coming around. Then, until they meet, it’s just this explosion of that moment.
So there were concerns about scope and budget in a movie that, in terms of scope, isn’t like that. We were constantly trying to find creative solutions, and I had had this dream about imagining this construction light for that scene. I mentioned it to Erica, and she was like, oh yeah, this feels right. Then we went to the museum, and I was looking at all the videos for fancy dance events and any powwow events. I started noticing that they’re actually lit, a lot of them, with just one light in the center or off to the side. We started imagining and finding creative solutions, but we also started finding what made sense in reality. So once that was established, I was like, “Okay Erica, now we can literally look 360.”
So me and Erica designed it. Because, of course, looking 360 is tricky, we designed a little bit of choreography with a map. We constantly wanted tension, fear, and confusion. We shot almost chronologically on that day. And we pretty much landed all together on the final moment together; there’s something beautiful about that. We arrived emotionally and technically together. People showed up were there the entire night, playing songs and dancing and being present. It was beautiful to see the community around it.
I was watching some video essays where you break down camera movement, especially Tarkovsky. You mentioned how much you love the long takes in his films, how he tracks his characters. Was he on your mind at all while you were working here?
Not specifically, but it absolutely informs how I photograph stories and people. It’s interesting—my dad, an 80-year-old Black man in Brazil with nothing related to the film industry and never been to Oklahoma, he watched the movie on Apple TV. He called me to say that what he loved most were the characters. He felt that the camera loved them too. I thought, okay, if I can make my dad proud, I can die happy [Laughs]. That’s the best compliment I could get. I feel like it’s my job. Following the characters and being with them comes from a philosophical respect for them as human beings. That’s always at the back of my mind, for sure.
Before we wrap up, I’d like to know what some of your gateway movies were as a cinematographer. What films inspired you when you were growing up?
I’m sure I didn’t have the language for it, but I was obsessed with Bram Stoker’s Dracula when it came out. I always loved horror movies growing up. My parents had to take me to the theater since I couldn’t go alone to see horror movies. My mom read some crazy reviews and said no, you can’t see it. I cried and waited. So, I waited until it was released on VHS. I went to the video store, lied to the clerk about my mom’s permission about renting it, and rented it. I went home and watched it twice in a row, and when my mom got home from work, she caught me. Well, it was too late. I think I watched that movie every weekend for months. It was my obsession.
I didn’t have the language why I was so obsessed, but it has such iconic images in that movie. Yes, it’s about cinematography, but it’s also about everything in front of the camera. I always think about that. There’s nothing a camera can do if you have a bad set design. Lighting is not going to fix it. I mean, are you going to let it all go dark?
I’m obsessed with costume and art. We often take credit for their work. The general public tends to look at something beautiful or iconic and think, “Oh, wow, that’s cinematography.” Everything needs to be captured well, sure, but those images are impactful. Just how sensual, dramatic, and the operatic movement of the camera through those gardens during the nighttime attack, just so interesting.
Another is a Mexican movie called Silent Light, directed by Carlos Reygadas. A friend who was a gaffer showed it to me. The first shot is a continuous take at sunrise. I was just blown away. I couldn’t understand how they shot that. It’s mostly available light and anamorphic. I had a bit of the language to understand it, but I didn’t know cinematography could also be poetry. I knew it could be a novel or specific narratives, but this was poetry through images, just a sense of freedom and breaking rules while still making thoughtful choices.
Sadly, I think we’re missing that today. Many films feel bland, lacking in specific choices. While I may not agree with everyone’s taste, I appreciate filmmakers who make distinct choices. Everything lacks a little specificity for me these days. That movie was just ballsy. A lot of choices. Those two films have definitely marked me the most.
Fancy Dance is now available on AppleTV+.
