1. What inspired the story behind your short film?
I moved to Malmesbury at the age of 12. As a young queer person trying to understand my identity, Alfredo—widely known and loved as “Tannie”—was a beacon in our community. He was admired, respected, and represented the kind of pride and visibility many of us aspired to. More than a performer, Alfredo was a guardian figure to many young queer people in Malmesbury, including myself.

My father and uncle, both queer, worked closely with Alfredo on events like Miss Gay Swartland. That’s how I got to know him more personally. His drag daughters—Jackie, Paula, and Vincent, all featured in the documentary—were part of the same circle of care and creativity that Alfredo helped nurture. In a community where queer lives often exist on the margins, Alfredo ensured we were seen, safe, and celebrated.

When the news of Alfredo’s murder broke, we were home. The silence in our house was immediate and heavy. While social media lit up in shock and grief, the updates quickly faded. The investigation went cold. When I reached out to his cousin Amy, she introduced me to his mother, Aunty Sophia. One of the first things she said to me was: “It seems like everyone has forgotten about him.” That moment stayed with me. It became the spark for this film.

Onthou vi Fredo?—which translates to “Do you remember Fredo?”—is both a question and a call to action. This film is a refusal to forget. It seeks to preserve his memory, honour his legacy, and hold space for collective grief, joy, and justice. Alfredo was not defined by tragedy. He was a breadwinner, a son, a mother figure, a performer—and above all, a human being. His story speaks to broader realities faced by queer and trans people in small-town South Africa: violence, neglect, resilience, and joy. Through this film, we assert that his life mattered. His death deserves answers. And his legacy must endure.

2. What message or emotion do you hope the audience takes away from your film?
Onthou vi Fredo? is rooted in memory and resistance. I hope it reminds audiences—especially queer viewers—that our stories are worth remembering and our voices must never be silenced. In remembering Fredo, we honour all those who refuse to be erased.

3. What’s your go-to creative ritual before a shoot day?
I pray by burning sage and listening to music. I always sing while I pray—it helps ground me and set my intention.

4. What’s one film you wish you had directed and why?
Parasite by Bong Joon-ho. I think it’s one of the best films ever made. Its storytelling, symbolism, and social commentary continue to inspire me.

5. If you had to shoot a short film using only three props, what would they be?
A mirror, a candle, and a table.

6. What’s your guilty pleasure movie or series you rewatch all the time?
Love Island USA. I’m slightly embarrassed, but it’s my go-to comfort watch.

7. Why are short films important in today’s media landscape?
Short films are vital because they allow filmmakers to tell bold, powerful stories without massive budgets or long runtimes. They’re innovative, urgent, and often the starting point for underrepresented voices.

8. What advice would you give to someone making their first short?
Keep it simple and focused. Tell a story you care about. Work within your means, plan carefully, and don’t underestimate the importance of pacing and good sound. Passion and authenticity matter more than perfection.

9. What’s the one question you wish interviewers asked you—and how would you answer it?
“What story do you still dream of telling?”
I dream of telling a story that explores how memory shapes identity—how the past, whether personal or collective, continues to live within us and inform who we are.

10. Why are festivals like the FAME Shorts Film Festival so important?
Festivals like FAME are essential. They give short films and their creators the visibility, recognition, and support they need. They build community, open doors, and encourage emerging storytellers to keep creating. For me, FAME is more than a festival—it’s a celebration of stories that matter.