Claire Missanelli and I met on a sunny afternoon in 2004 at a filmmaker’s event in NYC. Since that day, we have had a friendship supporting each other as documentary filmmakers. Claire is most famous for working with Director Paul Devlin for about ten years. I’m an outright fan of their films Slamnation, Powertrip and BLAST. The films have been seen all over the world.
The documentary film business seems to change every 20 minutes. Clarie would call me and ask about what we were doing that was working. I would call her when I wanted to learn about her wisdoms. We had exactly the kind of relationship filmmakers with a mission need — one of generosity and support within a single phone call.
In March, Claire died after living with cancer for years. I joined Paul, Claire’s family and several other filmmakers for her memorial service in Manhattan on Sunday. The service was deeply moving with musical performances by Claire’s friend Susan
McKeown and stories from siblings and friends.
Because I only knew Claire from our NY events and phone calls, I never met the others filmmakers in her community who appreciated her so much. I listened to two film directors share about how they feel lost with their producer, knowledge reservoir and team manager gone. In tears, one director shared how she had chosen to walk away from one film in post-production because each time she sat down to work she thought, “I should ask Claire about . . .” I was reminded how good producers make directors effective. Claire was great at this.
There was a particular insight that moved me deeply. I learned that Claire had been struggling with cancer since 2003 and she didn’t tell colleagues (or me) unless they asked her directly. She preferred that we all know her as a producer instead of a cancer patient. I then learned that she kept working on documentary film outreach right into February until she chose to stop the ineffective chemotherapy. Even when she knew she was likely to die in months, she kept working to spread stories that she knew were important.
For those who don’t know, professional documentary film-making is an exhausting commitment. The financial rewards are usually unstable or non-existent. Filmmakers live with a fear of financial collapse and often nothing to show for years.
Filmmakers like Claire do it because they actually believe that telling stories makes a difference. They think that sharing unheard voices and new points of view changes the world. May we all be so inspired by our work that the possibility of death will not turn us away.
Thank you, Claire, for reminding me what such deep commitment and meaning looks like. It is a rare condition. Every example is a precious jewel.

