Set in New York City, Gerald Barclay's first full-length feature film “Bloody Streetz” won the 2002 Pan-African Film Festival Vision Award. Rated Restricted (R) for its unflinching realism, and with more African characters than African Americans, the movie is a stylistically experimental inner-city Black drama of colliding worlds. But it is Barclay's 2004 documentary, “Liberia: The Love of Liberty Brought Us Here,” which catapulted him into Liberia's hungry green heart. Wrenching in its intimate look at our sufferings, "The Love of Liberty" is a reclamation of self and identity as much as a sweeping sociopolitical record of the war years. For many of us, the film also provides a visceral space of refuge and relief in its authentic sense of place and fully fleshed personalities. It stands against the relentless, traumatic depictions of us in film and print as fratricidal predators, sub-human savages, soulless 'Americos,' and faceless mass victims.

Speaking with “Gee-Bee,” one is struck by his cultural duality - his strong sense of his Liberian heritage and his Americanness arising out of his exile experience. He fled the coup with his family at age twelve in 1980 to return twenty-five years later with a camera in his hand and love glazing his eyes. The juxtaposition of Barclay's personal journey of return with the multiple voices and stories is a very emotional, transnational exploration of the exile's yearning for a homeland destroyed and changed by war. Barclay's trajectory as a son of the soil forced to live abroad, a Hip Hop video impresario in America, a writer, director, producer, and filmmaker of post-colonial consciousness is an archetypal diasporic story about the strong pull of bloodroots, memory, and identity.

Barclay has worked with big names and major talents including Spike Lee, Nona Hendrix, the Wu-Tang Clan, Silkk The Shocker, Biggie Smalls, Mystikal, Master P, Snoop Dogg, Cappadonna, Bounty Killa, Tony Lover, Big Pun, The Cocoa Brovaz and many other American artists who live in the popular culture spotlight. He started out interning at Spike Lee's 40 Acres and a Mule Filmworks; was a production assistant for the movie "King of New York"; and then struck out on his own after another internship at Miramax to form Gee-Bee Productions, his independent film and video production company. His involvement with Hush Hush Studios in Ghana and the Hip Life movement there has brought him closer to his dream of energizing the film scene in Liberia.

STEPHANIE HORTON: Gerald, I have to say right off, I wept through a lot of The Love of Liberty. And small things, little details like seeing children playing nafoe or a Ludo game made me smile with a bittersweet nostalgia. What passions stirring within you gave birth to this film?

GERALD BARCLAY: Thank you Stephanie. A lot of people have had that response to the film. I can say Liberia has always been with me: my mother, my father, my aunts, my grandmother who never stopped talking about Liberia, the Liberian community in America, the foods, family. I love movies and always wanted to combine my music video background with filmmaking and devise my own unique way to tell a story. Like most exiled Liberians living in the United States and abroad, I had hopes of returning home some day, though hearing all the negative accounts of the war turned me off. Then, like I said in the film, I felt an even greater desire to go back once I traveled to Ghana and was so close to home but could not enter Liberia because of the war. Hearing the stories from the refugees in Buduburam Refugee Camp just ignited a passion in me about Liberia that had been lost by the many years of being away.

My grandmother died in America waiting to go back home to Liberia. I made the journey back for her, in her memory. When I got there, everything came rushing back. The longer you stay away the memories fade and living in America becomes your new reality. But once you arrive and can touch the soil and breathe the air, and hear people talking, it all starts to come back and just makes sense again. What touched me most about being back home was the beautiful sunsets. They were so colorful and breathtaking. The light in Liberia is different. It's beautiful light. I remember when I was little, I used to feel like I could almost reach up and just touch the colors across the sky. I wanted to use a form that would express a visual journey from America through Ghana to Liberia to capture all these feelings; to put the camera on people and places and let the voices, the emotions and the images speak for themselves.

STEPHANIE HORTON: Yes, about allowing the voices, emotions and images to speak for themselves, I love the scene you filmed of the road coming from Robertsfield. The lush bush growing wild along the sides of that straight tarmac Robertsfield road just held me. I practiced driving on that stretch and it was so moving for me, re-experiencing that memory overlaid with all the death and sorrow that road now represents. That was one of many, many moments that hit me with a strong emotional impact.

GERALD BARCLAY: You never know how much you miss home until you go back. It's a tangible awareness after you go back and leave again. It's the familiarity. The feeling of ownership. But not in the power sense of owning.

STEPHANIE HORTON: Yes. Ownership in the sense of belonging; being a part of something that is a part of you from your very beginnings. I saw that feeling in you when you were standing at the highest point in Monrovia, on the roof terrace of Ducor Hotel. You were looking down at the people moving along the streets with a poignant expression. There was that beautiful span from the air of the curving land mass edged with bluest ocean and white seafoam. You spoke about not knowing how much you hadn't felt at home in your own skin in New York where you grew up, until that moment. You said, "sitting on top of my home . . . as I look down a lot of memories are coming back . . . "

GERALD BARCLAY: I felt at peace, like I fit in. It's indescribable. I've never felt that way in America. In Liberia I felt connected to the life around me. You strike up a conversation with someone and just feel at ease. But the underlying suffering is everywhere. I went to the orphanages and saw children making toys out of cardboard, rubber, wire and all kind of things to play with. That creativity is good but it's the lack you feel. I visited the displacement camps inside Liberia. It was painful to see how people lived. It made me want to do more and helped me to put my own life in perspective. You can find hustlers everywhere but most of the people are like one family. Nobody looked at me different. You would never imagine how people could joke and be happy after all they've been through. The beauty still exists. It's still there.

STEPHANIE HORTON: Where was home for you in Liberia? Where did you go to school?

GERALD BARCLAY: I was born in Yekepa in Nimba County, but my earliest memories are of Monrovia, where I grew up. We lived in Sinkor, then on Mechlin Street, then we later moved to UN Drive, then to the Barnardsville Estate. We spent a lot of time in Kingsville No. 7 with my cousins and my grandmother, Henrietta "Bush" Walker, who was the commissioner at the time. My last memory was being on Bible Way Mission near ELWA. That was where I was in boarding school when the coup occurred in 1980.

STEPHANIE HORTON: You've been mentioning your grandmother, Henrietta "Bush" Walker. Was she a strong presence in your life?

GERALD BARCLAY: She was definitely. I dedicated The Love of Liberty to her. I credit her with giving me the foundation I have to be a director and producer, to manage people with all different kinds of personalities; being the glue that holds everything together. She groomed me to be responsible. I remember her sending me all over Monrovia on errands by myself from when I was nine years old on. She taught me how to deal with people and handle business transactions. I find myself now making those connections.

STEPHANIE HORTON: The quotations around Bush in your grandmother's name are for . . .?

GERALD BARCLAY: (Laugh) Bush was her nickname, for her bushy hair.

STEPHANIE HORTON: Your mother, Bea Barclay, is well known in her own right: actress, singer, dancer, activist, comedienne. Creativity seems to run deep in the family genes.

GERALD BARCLAY: My mother is incredible. Very talented. Funny. High energy. She was the oldest member in a cultural troupe I had right after high school but she was the star. She's an entertainer. When I was making Bloody Streetz, she was not only in the movie but she cooked for the whole crew when we ran out of funds for the caterer. She made jollof rice, fish gravy and checked rice - that kind of food; everybody got into it. So many people chipped in to help me make the film. My father, my aunt Joko; my family has always been there for me to rely on. We filmed the restaurant scene for Bloody Streetz in Kortos. It's a well known Liberian restaurant in Staten Island owned by Esther Brown, who's my mother's friend. Even though my parents were divorced, they were always there for me. All of my family have been supportive through all the years of feast or famine.

STEPHANIE HORTON: What do you say to people who criticize the name of the documentary, Liberia: The Love of Liberty Brought Us Here, as one-sided or non-inclusive?

GERALD BARCLAY: I've heard that criticism before. Some people have dismissed the film for just that reason. But things have different meanings. The name of the film is a metaphor for all of the history. It first came to me when I was filming a rally in Washington, DC. There were Liberians of all ages coming in on these chartered buses to protest the war. That's in the film. The love of liberty brought them there to Washington, DC, in front of the White House to protest the war; to protest the American government doing nothing to stop the bloodshed.

In the opening introduction of the film, I give a brief summary of the founding history, but the documentary has a wide scope. Every group of people who settled in Liberia came from somewhere else. It's our history. My father's mother, Mary Jackson Cephas, is Bassa. I've been studying about the Bassa migration from Ethiopia and Kemet/Egypt to West Africa. My mother's mother's family goes back to Virginia in America, but she spoke several Liberian languages. I think the focus in the film speaks for itself. What I've learned is if you try to please everyone, nothing gets done; so I've learned to always follow my instincts. We have a non-profit in Liberia now, named after the film: The Love of Liberty Foundation. It symbolizes personal freedom, and collective freedom. My mother is the spokesperson. It's a feeding center and an educational skills training facility.

Actually, the love of liberty is why I made the film. It's the reason I'm an independent filmmaker. I made a conscious decision to follow my dreams. I started a production company from scratch for the love of liberty. The title has meaning on different levels.

STEPHANIE HORTON: Was it a smooth ride to artistic liberation and creative freedom?

GERALD BARCLAY: (Laugh) I did all kinds of jobs. From sweeping floors at the studios and Xeroxing thousands of scripts to being a messenger while shooting hours and hours of film for no pay. Starting off in the business was a slow process, years and years of hard work. I never forgot that when I was jumping from project to project making big money. I was hanging out with celebrities and flying all over the world or walking onto million dollar sets to direct music videos. That's the thing about fame. I've seen so many talents get turned out or burned out. I loved the work and the adrenalin rush but the lifestyle took me away from diving deep into what I really wanted to do.

STEPHANIE HORTON: So that's where the feast or famine comes in. What's different now about how you work?

GERALD BARCLAY: I'm free but I paid a price. I'm still shooting music videos. I love that aspect. I'm a videographer. That's an artform I really love. The money is good but it's not a steady source of income. I may shoot one video today and another may not come along for a month or two. But I'm making films and being me again. I worked nine to five or eight to twelve hours a day shooting episodes of other people's work. I was training young white kids to do what I wanted to do. I walked away to be my own boss. I cut all the umbilical cords. I faced my demons, so I have a whole new level of energy now.

STEPHANIE HORTON: Someone I spoke with called you 'Genius Boy Wonder' and said you finished college in two years.

GERALD BARCLAY: (Laugh) Please tell them thanks for the compliment, but I work hard, that's all. I'm not afraid of hard work. I can handle hard work. I went to City University of New York and yes, I graduated in two years. My major was television and video production.

STEPHANIE HORTON: There's no tradition of filmmaking in Liberia. Cheryl Dunye's work is strong and real but she has yet to turn her lens on us. The documentary form represents the emergence of a new tradition or genre that chronicles the Liberian story from a Liberian point of view. I'm thinking of Nancee Oku Bright's Liberia: America's Stepchild and now your film. There's an intimacy that flows through your lens. What were the challenges for you as an independent filmmaker being a pioneer in this sense?

GERALD BARCLAY: Whoa! Pioneer? Now that's a huge title for someone that has just finished my second independent piece.

With the advent of inexpensive digital video technology, I had virtually no boundaries in making The Love Of Liberty. I was able to get the necessary shots and editing without outside interference and with a minimal crew. Doing the same film 10-15 years ago would have been impossible or very expensive. And also telling the story through my personal journey made it even more unique, or intimate. So once I connected with my partner, John Eshun from Hush Hush Studios in Ghana, who sponsored me on the production of the film, it was magic. It took a long time to edit the film—I had tons of footage—but once the film was edited to a satisfactory cut, I began test screening it to various audiences that answered questionnaires. I applied a lot of the audience's suggestions to work out any kinks. I'm pretty happy with the final film and most people seem to be pleased, too.

Challenges? I think the greatest challenge was being arrested and charged with espionage and sabotage while we were shooting (laugh). We had just shot the Defense Ministry. But it all worked out well because as I said in the film, the deputy in charge went to school with my father (laugh). He listened to my story and believed me. I'm sure they watched the film and saw that we were not rebels. We were warned not to film the military and then they released us.

STEPHANIE HORTON: You're laughing now but that must have been intense. What happened? Were you scared? Terrified?

GERALD BARCLAY: Some. My crew was, too. But they didn't put us in a cell. We were not beaten up or anything like that. They confiscated our equipment. We waited in an interrogation room in the police station and got all of our equipment back with no damage, so it turned out okay in the end. We had to pay a fine - not much.

STEPHANIE HORTON: Can you tell us about the organization you are a part of, Hush Hush Studios?

GERALD BARCLAY: I connected with Hush Hush Studios in Ghana in January of 2001. The president, John Eshun and I share a love for movies and similar goals for changing the scope of the entertainment industry on the African continent as well as here in the US. I began by taking a few Ghanian filmmakers and training them with the latest digital video technology—bringing their methods of production up to standards. After a few years of work, I have to admit that I am very proud of those guys. There are some of the sharpest and most talented producers, cameramen and editors in Ghana. I plan on doing the same thing for Liberia. With the new digital technology we have now, we can begin to document Africa's history and culture. I plan on doing my part by showing other Liberians the way through technology.

STEPHANIE HORTON: Talk about the music in The Love of Liberty.

GERALD BARCLAY: The music comes from a wide assortment of genres. I used to be a DJ and listened to all kinds of music growing up in New York. So when it came to making the film, I didn't place any limitations on my choices. The choices I made express who I am, what I feel, and the Liberian world I know. From cinematic pieces composed by Napolean X of Protown specifically for the film or Baaba Maal's haunting chants to popular party tracks by Lucky Shango, Prince Nico's "Simplicity" or Liberian Palm Wine Experience's rendition of the "Children Ring Song," all really helped, I think, to create an emotional musical rollercoaster ride for viewers.

STEPHANIE HORTON: Your documentary humanizes the face of suffering. There's a transcendent spirit in your interview with the former General Butt Naked, now evangelist Joshua Blahyi. There's something compelling about him. He has a strong personality. He's also very courageous. That was obvious in how open he was. He laid down some deep and ancient epic history about the Krahns and Sapos. But it had to be surreal to be in front of a person who calmly talks about draining human white blood cells from living people for rituals, eating human hearts, murdering children, soul traveling and conversing with demons, yes?

GERALD BARCLAY: I had my reservations at first, but I didn't feel threatened or frightened being around him. It was just me and him in a room with the camera between us. As a filmmaker that has dealt with a lot of different individuals, I found a genuine character in him. I respect honesty. He, unlike a lot of people I came across in Liberia, had nothing to hide. There's a lot of cultural knowledge that I didn't understand as a Liberian that he cleared up. He's inspired me to want to learn more about that other world. Here is a so-called uneducated countryman with the utmost intelligence and cultural insight to offer. His life is about transformation. He's used his story to help other fighters, the child soldiers, to disarm. He's doing something positive.

STEPHANIE HORTON: I felt chills and thrills when he said God told him, "My son, why are you slaving? The demon you carry on your shoulder should be under your feet. Repent and live or refuse and die."

GERALD BARCLAY: Yeah. When he said, "I just thought as a priest, every human being was mine," I got an idea of how much power he had then. He's brilliant in painting pictures with words, explaining things - breaking them down so anyone can understand. He's got a book coming out soon. It should be a bestseller.

STEPHANIE HORTON: Another scene that stood out for me was the cultural dancers who met to dance on the stage at the E. J. Roye building; that "darkened empty space" as you put it. I almost didn't recognize E. J. Roye from the exterior until the camera panned inside. It was less than a shell of what it used to be, almost completely destroyed. But the dancers were extraordinary personalities and the dancing was powerful. I loved how they claimed that space of destruction and redefined it.

GERALD BARCLAY: The Liberian Cultural Ambassadors. True excellence. There's no respect for art in our culture. I was walking around asking questions about where the artists were when someone told me about them. I shot a lot more footage of them than what you see in the film; couldn't stop watching and filming. I thought they expressed the beauty and strength of our cultural spirit. There were a lot of spontaneous shots like that in the film. I couldn't have done it and made it work if I had being tied to outside pressures.

STEPHANIE HORTON: What's your experience with being undervalued as an artist?

GERALD BARCLAY: (Laugh) That's an everyday thing. I'm past the phase of thinking about the artistic drawbacks. I see it as a test. There's no respect for the craft, creativity and hard work it takes to make an independent film. My two films are selling more bootleg copies than I make off them. It's doing damage to me on different levels. I could be making ten times more money with a distribution deal or negotiating a six-figure deal, instead I'm still in the transitional stage, being in full control, so the message isn't diluted.

Artisan distributed Bloody Streetz, so I made more off it than I have The Love of Liberty. Bloody Streetz is a hardcore flick that turns a lot of people off. It's sharp on the edges with a bite - the language, violence and subject matter. At the Sundance Film Festival screening, some white guy got up and walked out and missed the whole essence - the story. But with the Love of Liberty I took a different approach and kept it natural. It sharpened my skills as a filmmaker. Not having make-up, wardrobe, lighting, sets—all that to deal with—freed me up to focus on the people and stories.

STEPHANIE HORTON: That naturalness, freedom and spontaneity came through in so many special ways and details. The woman burned in the Duport Road Massacre recounting her ordeal in that straight up home language. And the camera just staying in that moment of silence on the glasses on the grave in Buduburam Refugee Camp. The exhorting voice of community activist Nowai Dunbar challenging Liberians to care and get involved. The women in white praying in the morning for peace in that wide, sandy field. Allison talking in that quavering tone about skull hood ornaments on cars and gates made out of chains of human intestines. Jackson's face closing in on his feelings. So many layered and powerfully moving interwoven stories. How did you conceptualize how to let the film speak without a script?

GERALD BARCLAY: Half of being a filmmaker is being a good listener and seer. The blueprint I had was to talk to people, follow leads, let the truth speak and bring the sequences together in balance. I worked from an outline but my brain races a million miles a minute. I can bang out a treatment inspired by raw footage that comes out real nice. A good analogy would be cooking on all four eyes of a stove on different pots. You stir all equally or one gets burnt. It's practice, continual practice. Balance. For the woman who was burned, I just happened to run across her when I was visiting the Duport Road area. The political sequences with Taylor and the actual war footage came from stock news sources. The Minister of Information, C. William Allen, invited me to the Executive Mansion for the press conference. For the interview with Jacques Klein, I went to his office and presented my press credentials. After I introduced myself as a filmmaker from the US, his secretary contacted me to set up an appointment for the interview.

STEPHANIE HORTON: Jacques Klein quoting Albert Schweitzer was potent. Some people believe the past he alluded to in the quote remains the present.

GERALD BARCLAY: Yeah, yeah, that quote says a lot: "We are not free to choose whether we will or will not do the right thing in Africa. We owe it to them. The good which we do is not an act of charity. Indeed, after we've done everything there is in our power to do, we shall have repaid only a small part for the mistakes committed against them in the past." Memorable.

STEPHANIE HORTON: How did you come to film? Is there a moment you remember when you had that sense of knowing you were an artist that could teach, provoke thought, inform and entertain at the same time? That this is what you wanted to do?

GERALD BARCLAY: I remember playing with some friends in Liberia at about age five and finding a strip of what was 16-millimeter film, and shining a flashlight through it and being fascinated to see the images projected on the walls of a cardboard box that we were playing with. Later, I had a fascination with the television set. I used to peek in the back to see if there were people really in there. That represents my early fascination with images.

I can say I became obsessed with wanting to learn how to use moving pictures for entertainment and mass communication. I was interning at Miramax when I decided to follow my love of music and video and get into producing and directing. In 1998, I joined Master P's No Limit Films, where I worked on big budget Hip Hop video projects. I joined the Black Filmmakers Foundation to learn more about production. I learned a lot about film when I was working at Liberty Studios with Anthony Lover, who's one of my mentors. RZA, a producer and one of the founders of the Wu-Tang Clan, was another guide for me. But in high school I was involved in a lot of things that were connected to what I'm doing now. I organized events, made videos, videotaped weddings, directed dancers, things like that. I always knew this what I wanted to do. Within every society, there are always those like myself who are the griots or storytellers chosen to play a part in recording and passing down our history on to others. That's the role I believe is mine - to contribute my part. My mantra is: "Depart not from the path which fate has you assigned."

STEPHANIE HORTON: I like that you think of yourself as a griot or storyteller, that you see yourself on a path fulfilling your destiny. That means we will see a lot more about ourselves from you. With two former presidents in your lineage, you have a strong connection to political history. There is an epical tone to your Barclay family history legacy: the movement of your ancestors back across the Middle Passage from Barbados to Liberia to plant deep roots—roots that were seriously injured but not completely severed by war. Your ancestor Edwin Barclay wrote the lyrics and music to what is perhaps the most famous song of our history, "The Lone Star." He was a poet, scholar, musician and advocate for justice. What does this connection and this heritage mean to you?

GERALD BARCLAY: I actually just recently started researching more into my Barclay family history. Its funny that we share similar characteristics. I think that most of them were ahead of their time. I admire the strength of our forefather, Anthony Barclay and his wife Sarah, for taking their eleven kids and moving from Barbados to Liberia during such turbulent times to better their lives. As for myself, I feel that everyone can make a contribution to society, whether small or large. I am just following my dreams and desires; this doesn't make me any more important than someone who is, say, a schoolteacher. And by the way, I feel that teachers are some of the most prominent parts of any society and should be rewarded far more than they are today.

STEPHANIE HORTON: I agree, absolutely. Gerald, talking with you, an humble and very sensitive spirit comes through. You're calm and centered in an old soul kind of way. I confess it's not at all what I expected of a guy who's worked in the wild realm of mainstream Hip Hop videos. What are you most proud of in your work?

GERALD BARCLAY: (Laugh) You mean the sexuality in the videos? That's America. That's what they pay for; that's what people want to see. But that's a tough question because I'm my biggest critic. I can see the imperfections before others can. That keeps me on my toes.  My reward is sitting and watching the audience as they watch something I've produced. So I guess the reaction is what I appreciate most.

STEPHANIE HORTON: Are there filmmakers or other artists who inspire you, whose work you draw on?

GERALD BARCLAY: There are so many, from Spike Lee to Steven Spielberg, Quentin Tarantino, Robert Rodriguez, F. Gary Gray to Mel Gibson to Steven Soderberg and The Hughes Brothers. I also respect the Nigerian filmmakers for creating their own industry. In time they will catch up with the technology and be recognized around the world.

STEPHANIE HORTON: So what's next in the works for you?

GERALD BARCLAY: A lot is going on. Right now I'm in post production for a Wu-Tang documentary I've been working on for thirteen years, and I'm working on a video project in Miami. I'm editing old and new footage for The Love of Liberty Part 2. That should be out by the end of the year. And I'm looking for more investors to finalize the finances for a Hip Hop action drama, Island Mentality. The script is ready and the actors are on stand-by.

My obvious passion is creating, but even more than that is family. I love my family. I have two daughters and my wife and I are expecting our first son. A lot of people are joking that he is going to be a little producer. If that is a path he chooses, then that is fine. I plan on supporting all of my children in whatever they choose to do, like my parents did for me when I decided to make films.

STEPHANIE HORTON: Thank you Gerald, and congratulations and blessings. More power and liberty to your creative Liberian mind.

GERALD BARCLAY: Thank you Stephanie. I appreciate it. The pleasure was all mine. Thanks.