Sister Dance
Photography: Jill Orschel and Lisa Needham
There’s a line in Woody Allen’s film “Manhattan” where he basically says, “We have it all, but we still manage to make ourselves miserable.” My laughter only confirms that I recognize this irony in myself. I live in beautiful Park City, have a supportive husband and family, a growing film career, and last January, a dream came true for me: My latest film, “Sister Wife” was accepted into the Sundance Film Festival. It’s a short documentary about DoriAnn, a polygamist wife who reveals the excruciating jealousy of sharing her husband with her younger biological sister. “Sister Wife” was chosen from over 5,000 submissions to show at Sundance — a huge honor. I have so much to be thankful for, right? Yet somehow, among all the fun and celebration of this prestigious festival in our hometown, I found myself sulking. I felt possessive like DoriAnn, because I had to share my filmmaking dream with someone close to me who helped make the film.
I was used to working alone. Each film has been an absorbing personal battle with myself that took aeons to complete. Just ask my husband. It’s not that I mind the isolation; it’s just that early on, when I traveled by myself into polygamy country on the Utah-Arizona border, it became very clear this was going to take a team effort. Park City local and aspiring filmmaker, Alexandra Fuller, generously agreed to be a part of the journey to make “Sister Wife.” Just as DoriAnn says about her sister wife, who between them are raising 20 children, they complement each other in so many ways — one sister’s weakness is often the other’s strength. Working with Alex, I learned she possessed a number of strengths to my weaknesses — organization, quick thinking and follow-through. All I had to do was learn to work together. As DoriAnn says in “Sister Wife,” “It’s no big deal.”
Soon after DoriAnn entered into plural marriage with her younger sister’s husband, the reality of his going back and forth between them each night began to sink in. “Oh my God,” she cries in the film, “It feels so twisted.” My own experience working as part of a team turned out to be pretty twisted, too. I had doubts about the story, and frustrations with the direction, and though DoriAnn was going through difficulties of her own, I knew I didn’t want to portray her as a victim. My inner turmoil about the film started to manifest outwardly in petty jealousies toward Alex. She suddenly seemed more beautiful, talented and young. I’d be editing in my pajamas all day, and felt a little deflated when Alex came over looking stunning again. She was a brighter, faster decision maker, and worse, a natural-born leader. Oh my God, indeed.
From the ugly green ashes of those emotions, however, came the divine inspiration of “Sister Wife.” I leaned into the blade of how DoriAnn felt, by feeling it myself, and it finally made sense to narrow the focus to the tender pain that existed in her marriage. By finally choosing a direction, an incredible collaboration began for Alex and me. We made enormous progress editing the film, and by September 2008, we submitted it to Sundance. The day after Thanksgiving, Sundance programmers called to congratulate us on our acceptance. The feeling of being included with this esteemed group of independent filmmakers had no words. Both of our families came for the festivities, and everyone from the ticket takers to Robert Redford treated us like royalty. All was well with the world.
But Woody Allen is right, you know. Smack dab in the middle of my lifelong fantasy, darkness crept in. At our premiere, Alex’s silver dress made me feel drab. She was radiantly pregnant. Even the way her festival badge swept across her breasts made me feel old and shabby. I irrationally made up the story that everything fabulous about Alex meant I was inadequate. I tried to distract myself by meeting people and going to parties, but only the screenings of “Sister Wife” made me feel good. Truly, when your film is on the big screen and an audience is connecting, nothing else matters.
Something unexpected happens in “Sister Wife” when DoriAnn explains why she chose polygamy, despite her daily struggle. She talks about rising above and finding the unconditional love among herself, her sister, and the man they chose to be with. “During those moments of triumph,” DoriAnn proclaims, “I feel like a goddess.” When Alex and I had heard DoriAnn utter these words a half a year before in front of the camera, we knew we had something special. There was a moment during Sundance when I allowed myself to feel the big love, too.
“Sister Wife” was screened at the Library Center. The house was packed with people we knew. Alex and I had a great Q & A. Suddenly, the same unconditional love that DoriAnn talks about in our film swept over me, and I truly felt wonderful about sharing this experience with the person who had worked by my side during the last couple of years. There were no feelings of doubt, the film was made and it was a fine success, and for a sweet and lovely moment in time, I felt like a goddess, too.
Jill Orschel has been dreaming about making films since she was 7 years old. She lives in Park City with her husband Eddie and two sons, E.J. and August. Learn more about “Sister Wife” at sisterwifefilm.com.
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