I had the privilege of working with Andrew Berends on his film Madina’s Dream in 2014/2015. Andy was one of the bravest people I’ve ever met. His stories of being under fire in Iraq and detained in Nigeria while working on docs were beyond crazy – but for him, it was just part of his work. He was so dedicated to telling stories of people who were struggling to survive in conflict zones, and bringing a camera into the most dangerous places on earth to show the human cost of war.
Director of Free solo, from INSTAGRAM
chaivasarhelyiWe have lost a wonderful friend and an important filmmaker – Andrew Berends. I first met Andy in 2006 when I saw his film Blood of my Brother. I was taken by his poignant and human images and asked our mutual friend Gwyn Welles to introduce us. We found that we had a lot in common including our passion for Africa. Andy and I went on to make 2 films together, Incorruptible and Little Troopers. We also collaborated on many other projects. We traveled throughout West Africa, Europe, Kosovo, the US and most recently he filmed with jimmy and my team on Free Solo. Andy’s intelligence, sensitivity, bravery, loyalty, strength, perfectionism and fierce sense of justice made him an excellent filmmaker and a trusted friend. Andy the images you captured and the stories you told are beautiful and critical and they will live on. Thank you for being my friend and collaborator all these years. I will miss your goofy sense of humor, your infectious hope, your gravely voice, your sensitivity, your great notes giving, your creativity, your biking outfits, your unique morning routines, your fraught but hilarious relationship stories, your unbridled passion, your exacting perfectionism, your love and your friendship. You protected me when things got tough both in and off the field. Your work was so so good. You accepted me and other friends worts and all — yet always demanded that we rise to our best selves. You required the same of yourself and that’s why you were such a good filmmaker and such a complex friend. You touched so many lives. I know the pain you felt was profound, real and relentless. I know you suffered. I can only hope you have finally found some peace and justice as you so deserve it. I’m sorry it was this way. Our community lost an amazing person. I will always love and remember you Andy. I encourage everyone to watch Andy’s remarkable films. Urk (2003) The Blood of My Brother (2005), Delta Boys (2012), Madina’s Dream (2015)
I last saw Andy a few weeks ago and am feeling devastated, like so many of you. I am very grateful for all of your memories of Andy. There’s some comfort in your words, and so I will try and share some of my memories as well.
I was lucky enough to work with Andy on three of his films. And I’m so thankful that we got to see a lot more of each other recently when he moved into my neighborhood in Berkeley, often over beers in his beautiful backyard or over post-movie dinners.
I owe my career as an editor to Andy. When we met, serendipitously through an online posting, he had recently returned from Baghdad. He didn’t have much money to pay an editor and I, having just graduated from college, had literally no experience. Andy took a chance on me. He would pay for lunch to make up for the low pay, and we’d sit and eat on the stone steps by the East River in Dumbo, listening to the trains pass overhead on the Manhattan Bridge. It was clear from the first frames of footage I saw that Andy was incredibly talented and had captured something important in his time in Iraq.
I remember the first grant we received – NYSCA, I think. We worked straight through our normal lunch hour until around 3pm, and then took off for Grimaldi’s, where we ordered a couple pizzas and got drunk on the house wine, celebrating our new funds.
Andy was perhaps the most courageous person I know, though he never thought of his actions that way. I remember when we were editing Blood of My Brother, I naively expressed frustration with him for only filming one exterior establishing shot of the main character’s house in Baghdad, despite at least a dozen shoots inside the house. It was then that Andy described laying down in the back of the car when he drove there so that no one would see the American filmmaker visiting this family – to protect them and to protect himself. Getting just that one shot was risky.
At festival Q&As for that film, he would often say that he decided to go to Iraq while Christmas shopping in a mall. He couldn’t bear that the scene in that mall was what it looked like in the US when the country was at war. He wanted to bring it home to all of us what war really meant for those experiencing it. And he was willing to literally run through gunfire to help Americans understand the human impact of the war.
A few years later, he was filming for Delta Boys, living in a rebel camp in the Niger Delta, sending drives back to New York every few weeks just in case something happened. And of course, as most of you know, it did happen. He was arrested and held for nine days. But somehow, when he landed back in New York, he didn’t seem that shaken by it all. I think he always knew it was part of the gig. And more than that, I think he felt at home in that rebel camp, finding and capturing stories few of us would dare seek out.
When I first started working with Andy, I was still too young to recognize what an important place in history and in the historical record his work would have. I couldn’t be prouder to have worked together with him on these films. In the Jewish tradition, we say, “may his memory be a blessing.” Andy’s presence was a blessing to me in many ways, and I know his memory and his work will continue to be so for many of us for a long time to come.
A time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence
A time of confidences
Long ago it must be
I have a photograph
Preserve your memories
They’re all that’s left you
2008 NY Times Article on Andy’s Detention in Nigeria
I remember clearly when this was all going down, and I thought I’d post this as a reminder of how damn brave (and sometimes foolish) Andy was… more later. I’ll always miss you, brother. –Jason
I’m filled with sorrow and regret today, but also with joy as I remember the time Andy and I spent together: going to double features at the Roxie, discussing films and sharing our memories of travel and the stories of people we’d met around the world. Watching Andy pick up a camera, a mouse at an edit bay, a best friend’s child—these are moments I’ll forever cherish. A wonderful, dedicated filmmaker and friend, a loss felt by so many. Love you, Andy.
As we digest the personal loss of Andy Berends our friend, one of the best tributes is to honor Andy Berends the filmmaker. He continuously took tremendous personal risk to share untold stories of disenfranchised civilians affected by war and natural disaster around the world. The poetry of his cinematic skills was matched by his tenacity as a journalist and storyteller. In addition to his own films made in Iraq, Nigeria and South Sudan, and his amazing work for other directors across Africa, Andy recently worked on projects for the UN, UNICEF and the Red Cross in places like Indonesia, Bangaldesh and more. Andy shared this reel with me several times while it was still in progress. It gave me chills every time.
–Mike Liss
To see more, Andy’s full professional site is http://www.andrewberends.net/
Click here to see reactions to Andy’s death on the D-word.
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For more recent D-Word members, here is the special topic we set up back in 2008 when Andy was arrested by the military in Nigeria. Reading it through, it becomes very clear why we all thought so highly of him, and why this sudden loss feels so cruel.
