So the film’s production designer, Sam Bader, tried to emulate their commitment to craft.

Bader set out to physically immerse audiences in the spiritual journey of Mother Ann Lee, the founding leader of the group who is played in the film by Amanda Seyfried. The real Ann Lee led her small band of followers from England to America in 1774, and the Christian group came to be known for ecstatic worship, celibacy, and handcrafted furniture so simple and sturdy that it remains prized today. 

Bader relied on still-standing buildings from the Hancock Shaker Village, a historical site in Massachusetts, and new sets built primarily in Budapest, Hungary. He used paintings to imagine the pre-photographic world of the Shakers. 

“Researching, you look at artists like John Lewis Krimmel and Francis Guy, and see what homes looked like,” he says. 

His designs were guided by the Shaker demand for functionality, and the cramped buildings of the time. 

“The base layer was a grasp of the 18th century, people’s lived realities and work realities, and how people moved through space,” Bader explains. “People owned very little and had even less space to store it. The reality was that there weren’t multi-roomed homes, especially for the lower class in England.”

Space in The Testament of Ann Lee

Fastvold wrote the film’s script with her partner, Brady Corbet, with whom she also wrote 2024’s The Brutalist, which he directed. Both The Testament of Ann Lee and The Brutalist are stories of starting a new life in America, and both make strong impressions with their bold production design.

Bader used the sets to chart the Shakers’ precarious path from a gritty life in England to a better one across the Atlantic. 

Life in England “was murkier, more muddled,” Bader says. But when the Shakers move in the film to New York, “things open up with fresh builds, blue skies, and blue waters. It creates a spatial story arc, ending in utilitarian spaces that are in harmony with nature.”

Fastvold and cinematographer William Rexer II shot on 35mm film because of its painterly quality. The film used “a little limited CG, and mostly analog matte paintings, which give a handmade quality that melds well with celluloid,” Bader notes. 

The film’s meeting-house facade, for example, was a freestanding structure with its roof extended by a CG matte painting. 

“Seeing the movie’s first assembly, I lost track of which was which, even though I designed them,” he says.

The painterly approach came naturally to Bader, who eschewed the use of AI.

“I come from an oil painting background. I studied classical drawing and abstract oil painting from a young age, got into college on an art portfolio, and wound up in Los Angeles and USC with the idea of a studio art career,” he explains.

He eventually moved to New York and landed a job as a production assistant for production designer Adam Stockhausen on Steven Spielberg’s 2015 Bridge of Spies. 

“There’s an unbroken chain from then to now,” he adds. “The path through the art department to art directing is how you emerge as a production designer for shows at various budgets and scales.”

Sam Bader on Gifts From the Shakers

The most potent symbol in the film emerged from the Shakers’ archives.

“The biggest symbolism that wasn’t on the page, which I found with Mona, was the tree,” Bader says. “The Biblical tree of life, Eden, and the apple orchard are all strong in Shaker art, and we wanted to riff on that.”

The team also drew directly from the Shakers’ “gift drawings” — works of art born from spiritual visions. The Shakers believed they were received from God, and often rendered them on simple cutouts of paper.

Bader and Fastvold took artistic liberty to feature the drawings as murals on the walls of the film’s sets. 

“Even though there isn’t a Shaker meeting house with painted murals as such, we wanted to riff on that,” Bader says. 

The film’s title cards, meanwhile, are inspired by the “hieroglyphic, primitive, cave-painting-like motifs” found in the Shaker’s messages. 

“When the movie ends, woodcuts, artwork, and photography become formalized in the audience’s mind,” says Bader. 

The Testament of Ann Lee is now available on video on demand, from Searchlight Pictures.

Main image: Amanda Seyfried leads the ensemble of The Testament of Ann Lee. Searchlight Pictures

Unfortunately, Huang says, when the company declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy in 2023, it never paid him over $100,000 in residuals it owed him. That inspired him to make Vice Is Broke, which details how the company rose from a free magazine to a global media juggernaut that was worth a reported $5.7 billion before it came crashing down. 

“He was in the belly of the beast and he’s gonna tell all, and that’s exciting,” says Jijo Reed, who led post production on Vice Is Broke. “You feel like, OK, nothing’s going to be held back, and it goes there. That’s why it’s a great documentary, because that’s the main purpose of documentaries, to really do exposés that are deep and voyeuristic, as well.”

Reed is the founder of Sugar Studios, one of L.A.’s most stylish, inviting and accommodating full-service post-production houses. The busy producer’s dazzlingly decorated, retro headquarters is perched high above the Wiltern Theatre, one of the city’s most iconic music venues. 

The Art Deco landmark is a fitting building for Huang to shape his first feature-length documentary after a long career that included writing the bestselling memoir-turned-sitcom Fresh Off the Boat.

“He’s a rock star, for sure,” Reed says. “He’s just got boundless energy, and he was very involved in every part of the post production. It was just awesome to work with Eddie.”

Sugar Studios was responsible for all the color correction, visual effects, sound design, mixing and final delivery, while Huang and fellow producers Raymond Mansfield and Sean McKittrick (Get Out, BlacKkKlansman) brought in editor George Mandl to cut the doc. It made its world premiere last year at the Toronto International Film Festival. 

Vice Is Broke strikes a sweet spot between journalism and the kind of street-smart insider knowledge Vice was once known for.

“Vice’s existence challenged everything we knew about journalism and brands,” Huang says in the film. “We invested in story and character and showed that with a DIY, [expletive]-what-you-heard, I’ll-see-it-for-myself attitude.”

It’s a fun cautionary tale, thanks to Huang and the other personalities who share their experiences of working there, including Proud Boy provocateur Gavin McInnes, a Vice co-founder who parted ways with the company in 2008. His troubling perspectives on women and race are on full display as Huang confronts him in the film, accusing McInnes of embracing neo-fascist ideology as a ploy to make money. 

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“That’s why it’s captivating,” says Reed of Huang’s unconventional interview style. “He’s guiding you through this, and he’s not going to sugarcoat it.”

Vice, which recently relaunched its print edition, said in a statement when the documentary debuted that it was “old news and no longer relevant news,” adding that the company has “strategically reconfigured to meet the challenges and culture of a new media landscape.” 

Sugar Studios' Jijo Reed on Creativity and Vice Is Broke

Reed believes that in order for films to find their sweet spot, filmmakers need a sweet space to work, a philosophy guiding Sugar Studios since he launched the company with just a laptop and a hard drive in 2012. 

“Generally speaking, the design and the environments of post-production houses have not been, in my opinion, conducive to the creative process,” he says. “And I’m very against the notion that post production is a utilitarian part of the process.

“This is a very creative part of the process of filmmaking,” he adds. “So many creative decisions are made in the editorial process, in the color process, in the sound design process — things that really bring a film to life. And I won’t say it’s equal to what is achieved on set with direction and shooting, but it definitely should be in the same conversation.” 

Reed notes that editors and post supervisors often find creative solutions that can not only save problems with raw footage, but improve the whole project. 

“Especially with documentaries and unscripted, because your editor has to be a story producing writer as well,” he says. “Typically when you start editing a documentary, you still haven’t recorded all of your interviews; there’s often more interviews that are shot and cut in during the edit. And let’s not forget that documentaries follow the direction of the answers of the subjects.”

It’s not unusual for Sugar Studios clients to actually shoot scenes for their films in the tri-level creative space that Reed and his wife, Sugar Studios COO Nicole Wainstein, have cultivated for the last 13 years. 

Huang was no exception: He interviewed former Vice writer Lesley Arfin on Sugar’s seafoam- green penthouse patio, overlooking the sprawling cityscape. 

A functional creative space, however, is nothing without the team running it and the state-of-the-art technology they’re operating on. In addition to the 12,000-square-foot facility’s glossy good looks, amplified mid-century modern design and relaxing amenities throughout, Sugar Studios prides itself on being “not just a pretty face,” boasting top-tier creative suites. 

“Even though we’re working on independent films and not going  after Marvel pictures, the talent and technology is the same as all the much bigger and more expensive houses,” Reed says.

“It becomes a creative environment due to the fact that there’s freedom, relaxation, comfort and confidence,” he adds, noting that comfortable clients do better work. 

“They know that they’re being taken care of, and that we honestly care and are passionate about their film. We really care about every project that goes through here, whether it’s a low budget or a big budget.”

For Vice Is Broke, Sugar went above and beyond to help finish a cut of the film in time for TIFF last year. In order to effectively tell the story of Vice, Huang needed a lot of archival footage. And given the critical tone of the film, it wasn’t always easy to obtain. 

“We had to secure a lot of archival footage that was being held very tightly by a lot of people,” Reed says. “This is a very controversial piece, and it doesn’t show everyone in the best light, and so to be able to get permission to use these interviews wasn’t always smooth sailing for the producers. But they managed to do it through being persistent and focused, which is why we were able to create such a compelling doc.”

In the film, Huang makes the case that Vice crumbled in part because corners were cut, directors weren’t credited for their hard work, and hunger for expansion took priority over quality assurance. 

“It meant something to all of us, and we gave our youth to this place,” Huang says in his narration. “But I swear to f---ing God, it didn’t have to end like this.”

The film is loaded with lessons applicable to any industry. Reed’s top takeaway as the CEO of a booming business that he built from the ground up is simple: Value people over profit. 

“We feel so fortunate here at Sugar, and I think a large part of it is because we respect and value everyone who works here,” he says. 

“Oftentimes, people will want me to franchise out to other states with better post tax incentives. It happens quite a bit where I’m asked to maybe set up something in Atlanta or New York, and I’ve resisted, because it’s not just about the cool furniture, the technology or the interior design. It’s about our people here who make that all happen.”

You can learn more about Sugar Studios at sugarstudios.com. 

So did the Palladinos, who worked with Groom on all five seasons of their Emmy-winning The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. The married duo leaned on him to create the look and tone of Étoile, a project close to Sherman-Palladino’s heart. Étoile is the second ballet-focused series from the former dancer, following the one-season Bunheads in 2012-13.

“When we started on Maisel, the process was more traditional in terms of the presentation of sketches and photographs and research to get a common language or vocabulary for what we were doing,” Groom says. “This was a little different. There are always new things to explore and understand with a new show and situation, but we’ve definitely developed a shorthand.”

Étoile is a dramedy that follows the dancers and artistic directors at two world-renowned ballet companies in Paris and New York. The heads of the companies, played by Charlotte Gainsbourg and Luke Kirby, agree to swap key talent to save their respective companies. They also make a deal with an unsavory funder, played by Simon Callow, and seek media coverage in an attempt to attract new audiences.

“In this case, it’s researching different stories in different environments,” says Groom. “We have dozens and dozens of books and dozens of folders from the Library of Congress in the art department that we put together for this project. We did research on various ballets and the styles of dancing. It was all very specific to what was being scripted.”

Groom says having a fresh eye to ballet helped him establish entry points to the series that will parallel those of viewers as they follow the characters through the swap — and subsequent training and performances.

“There’s a stage vocabulary that’s different from a screen vocabulary in terms of the spaces we created, and I began imagining myself as a stage designer, which is what I knew in college,” Groom says. “I had to go back to some of that—the layouts, the backstage area, the masking, the arrangement and scenery. Then we had to adjust it for the camera and figure out those elements.”

Bill Groom on Crossing Continents for Étoile

Following the characters offstage and creating common elements in their lives was key to understanding the artists who dedicate their lives to a beautiful but brutal discipline. 

“Audiences will be drawn into ballet the way I was doing this. You learn what a discipline ballet is and how amazing these dancers are and how dedicated they are to their work,” he says. “I grew to appreciate ballet unlike I had before, and that won me over in a way that people will see on this show.”

Part of that immersive experience was ensuring there was room on set to capture the dancers but also their audience, and working within traditional ballet spaces to highlight the emotions and journeys from the scripts. 

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Hiding cameras and crew in a mirror-filled studio was a challenge. So was coordinating shoots across two countries and figuring out time zones, work styles and languages. The crew wound up building some New York sets in Paris to accommodate. 

“I challenge you to be able to tell which ones,” he says. “But you can take advantage of the cross-country filming too, because you have different eyes looking at things from a different point of view, and different cultural references that you can bring into the show.”

To differentiate the worlds of New York and Paris ballet, Groom and the Palladinos juxtaposed modern and classical tones. Groom scouted modern locations and colors for scenes in New York, but stuck to classical structures and tones while in Paris. 

The team used Manhattan’s Lincoln Center and Paris’ Garnier Opera House for scenes when possible, and relied on a combination of elements and places to create their own unique spaces. 

“There’s a difference in the way ballet is created and executed in both cities,” says Groom. “The contrast enhances the storytelling Dan and Amy had in mind.” 

In Paris, Groom relied on a team that included crew he had previously worked with on Season 2 of Maisel when that series shot in France. Together they constructed a dance studio with a view of Paris that included columns and exposed brick. 

“We created all of that on stage — every inch of it we sculpted,” he says. “We might have shot scenes like that at the Garnier or one of the other opera houses, but scheduling was just impossible.”

One of the biggest scenes in the premiere episode had nothing at all do with ballet, however. In it, viewers meet the étoile, or star, of the Parisian company, who is about to be transferred to New York. Cheyenne (played by Lou de Laâge) is clueless, though — she’s aboard a boat during a storm, trying to take down a ship for eco crimes. 

The comical scene weighed on the budget, as it was filmed in a giant tank in Brussels and involved the construction of an actual boat that was then sent to the location. 

“It was a big undertaking and we built it down to all of the gauges and everything inside,” Groom says. “It accommodated the camera moves with larger doors and things like that, but it worked. We had a great construction team, and great painters and sculptures.”

The wild scene could have been from another series, given how much it contrasted with the put-together worlds of the companies. But, it was an integral introduction to a major character — one who Groom knew needed to enter with a bang. 

“We see her later as a dancer, but the first time we see her, it’s within her true passion of being an eco-warrior,” he says. “From there we see her in the context of the ballet company and understand why and how others react to her in that life. But the scene was essential for setting that up.” 

Groom says that no matter how large a show may be, budget is always an issue. 

“The challenge for people like me in every department is to not let the audience feel that budget limit,” he says. “You don’t want the audience watching it and saying, ‘Oh they must not have had much money to do this’ because it doesn’t seem convincing. That tension’s always there.”

Étoile is now streaming on Prime Video.

Main image: Étoile. Photo by Philippe Antonello © Amazon Content Services. AMAZON CONTENT SERVICES LLC