Entertaining Ideas
Filmmakers in our backyard
By Neil Cohen

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The Arizona men behind Hate Crime share their passion
It's the question everyone asks writer/director Tommy Stovall and his partner, producer Marc Sterling, and I didn't even have to — "Is Hate Crime autobiographical?" Definitely not, Stovall volunteers, although people could be forgiven for asking. Hate Crime's protagonists are Robbie and Trey, a young, handsome gay couple from Dallas who are leading a perfectly normal life until a dangerous homophobe moves next door. Dallas transplants Stovall and Sterling, who celebrated their ninth anniversary on Valentine's Day, are the kind of couple you never see the politicians touting — well-off and happily partnered with an adorable four-year-old named Trevor they adopted as an infant.
    The Sedona residents are riding high on the acclaim their first film has received at the Palm Springs Film Festival, where it sold out without the benefit of pre-festival buzz. They're looking forward to seeing how it goes over as the Friday night feature at the 11th Annual Sedona Film Festival, beginning March 4. I spoke with them about Hate Crime, and its controversial take on revenge and religious intolerance.

Echo: How did the script for Hate Crime come about?
Stovall: I started thinking about it six or seven years ago, and I'd always wanted to get into making independent films. So I had this idea in my head, I kind of started with the title. A lot of people ask me if it's based on a true story, and it isn't, thank goodness. I thought it would be an interesting subject to explore, but I didn't want it just to be a message movie or to make some political statement; I wanted it to be entertaining as well.

Echo: It does straddle a lot of genres (drama, mystery, suspense-thriller) Did the script evolve while you were writing it?
Stovall: I didn't start writing it until about a year and a half ago, and the first draft was pretty straightforward and predictable. So I tried to make it a little more interesting and surprising. I'm glad to hear that people are surprised at the end, because that certainly was the hope.

Echo: The film has a lot of political weight, especially now with the drive to outlaw gay marriage. How does that affect you as a couple, knowing you've made this powerful film about religious intolerance?
Sterling: Neither one of us is really political.
Stovall: My political views are expressed in the film. I hope it's not straightforward what my political views are — I just lay them out and let people draw their own conclusions. But for us, the gay marriage issue doesn't really affect us either way. Our lives are going to be the same whether it happens or not. It would be nice, of course, and I think everyone should have the right (to marry). I think it will happen. It's just a question of when.

Echo: How long did it take you to adopt your son?
Sterling: It was actually a pretty fast process. It all started where we wanted to help a gay teen. We saw a piece on 20/20 and we wanted to take in a child who'd been kicked out or was not loved. We thought we could show them "Hey, here's how we live and here's how you can live" and offer them a lot of love. The age group (of potential children available) kept getting younger and younger as the months went on, and all of a sudden we were like, "Sure, we can take an infant." We got Trevor through Child Protective Services; we got a license to foster and adopt. Six months after we got licensed, we got him. He was about two-and-a-half weeks old.

Stovall credits living in Sedona with giving him the motivation to write the script, although filming away from home for two months did have its drawbacks. Luckily, the two were well-acquainted with their Dallas location and had family and friends there.
    Casting was an eye-opening experience. Hollywood actors were clamoring for parts once they read Hate Crime, especially for the two mother roles. While Sterling and Stovall were blown away by the caliber of people fighting to be part of the film, Sterling was surprised at who didn't want to participate. The largest gay congregation in Dallas at first agreed to let them film in their church, then withdrew support once they read the script.
    Getting product placement in the film also came about differently. Most film producers go through a central company to handle putting brand names on screen, but when the movie has gay subject matter, the companies don't want the job. Sterling secured support from M.A.C. cosmetics and other brands directly.
Hate Crime is a relationship film (Robbie and Trey have commitment issues), a revenge drama, and a mystery-suspense picture, but it also resonates deeply when it delves into the self-loathing and repression many hate crime perpetrators feel. The scene that gets the most comments, Stovall reports, is one where a loving sermon at the gay church is countered by Bruce Davison's fiery sin diatribe.
    "They call it the 'Dueling Sermons' scene," he said, laughing. "I grew up in a small town in Texas, so I had my own issues, but thankfully I wasn't raised by a fundamentalist preacher. As a gay person, I can't imagine that."
    Some parts of Hate Crime, such as the actual beating, are hard for people to watch, but Stovall knew he had to show it. What surprised Sterling was that people, including a family member ("But I won't say who," he laughed), had a harder time with the tame scene of Robbie and Trey kissing than they did with the violence in the piece.
    Stovall is already planning his next script, a lighter comedy-drama set in Sedona. One hopes the legislature will recognize what a valuable resource filmmaking is to the state, and people like Stovall and Sterling won't have to go elsewhere to realize their vision.