James Barker's Journey From Psychiatric Care to Directing Remnants of Nova
Updated: Oct 2
When James Barker stood at the microphone, accepting the award for “Best LGBTQ+ Short” at the Jim Thorpe Independent Film Festival for his film “Remnants of Nova,” he advocated for stories that humanize queer people and throw off the trauma-porn typically associated with films centered on queer characters.
I caught up with James recently to uncover what energizes him and his craft, and to understand how he’s found success working in the entertainment business.
We’re in his office, which I would describe as maximalist. The walls are adorned with movie posters, from Lawrence of Arabia to Fucktoys. There's a shelf dedicated to his collection of Criterion Blu-rays, another to E.T. memorabilia. Two clocks from the 1800s sit in silence surrounded by books, cameras and a 16mm projector.
He’s wearing a brown floral embroidered button down and dark blue jeans, his blonde curls flow over his forehead to his glasses. A pigeon is tattooed on his arm. He’s fixated on a social edit for Build or Break, a new podcast headed by Daniel Lubetzky, the billionaire founder of KIND Snacks (and cousin to Emmanuel or “Chivo”), before he swivels around, props his feet up on his desk, ready to talk.
Quantify for the public: exactly how much pot did you smoke in college? How many classes did you skip? And how many of those smoke sessions ended with you making out with other guys? Too much is the answer. A lot. If you couldn’t tell by the amount of tie-dye I was wearing and the long hair. I slept through about 30% of college. I slept through Roberta’s class all the time. Sorry, Roberta. She told my parents at graduation that my grad gift should be an alarm clock. And I kissed a dude one time, okay. But that was alcohol, not weed. The beard-on-beard was different. I wasn’t used to that.
I heard that you swiped right on your partner, Monica, while you were sitting on the toilet. Confirm or deny? Confirm. It was November 11th, 2020. She actually swiped right on me first, so when I swiped, we immediately connected. I was in Jersey City and she was in Brooklyn, so that first year was a lot of travel. And the rest is history. That was almost six years ago now.
What is it about Monica that gives you the space and sanity to chase a career as volatile as indie filmmaking? She gives me the confidence to be who I am, express who I am, and go after my dreams. I think that’s something that’s incredibly important for a partner, to have that space to be yourself, to discover yourself. I think it helps that we both are long-time therapy users, and so we both understand that idea of talking things out, working through your past. Plus, she’s a “corporate girly” so I’m incredibly thankful for the healthcare.
If you had to eat something for the rest of your life, what would it be? I would say phở, the Vietnamese soup. That is my favorite thing. I grew up in Annandale, Virginia, outside D.C. which has a huge Korean and Vietnamese population, something like 25% of the town. So phở spots, Korean BBQ, and Hot Pot are my go-to’s. In high school after any theatre rehearsal or show, I was getting a large bowl, extra spicy, at Phở Anh Duong or Phở Hot.
Let’s get real. You spent time in a mental health facility a few years back. Were you terrified when you went in? Walking in and telling the nurse I was suicidal was one of the most frightening experiences of my life. I couldn’t stop shaking and my insides felt like they were going to fall out. My then-roommate Olivia took me and then my brother Alex showed up. We played Stratego to try to distract me, but I was having a full blown panic attack. That was equally the worst week of my life but also one of the best weeks of my life, because that was the lowest of the low. When you’re that low, the only way is up. And that was the beginning of my healing journey.
How did that experience shape your craft? It was such a unique experience that I was like, “How do I tell this story of being in here?” You hear other people’s stories. I remember this guy, we all nicknamed Burrito because he would burrito himself in a blanket on the couch, he had schizophrenia, and the only thing for him that worked to make all those thoughts and feelings go away was meth. It was really interesting to learn why he was a meth addict. So you hear these stories of, like, “Oh, these meth addicts,” blah blah, whatever. But then you meet somebody who struggles with meth addiction and schizophrenia. You really learn why, or at least why it started. And that was just one example of a wide array of people I got to know during my week there. I think that was really important, to step into somebody else’s shoes, which is what it’s like making a film.
Why choose this ridiculously hard industry, cinema, to work in? I think it’s my way of asking bigger questions inside myself and putting my thoughts and feelings on the page, putting them into these characters. Even for Remnants of Nova, I saw myself in both characters in a way that helps me process my own life. For the current script that I’m writing, I’m asking my therapist these big philosophical and psychological questions, even showing him some of the outlines and moodboards I’ve been drafting. I’ve been studying Carl Jung’s work because I’m just so fascinated by his theories and outlook on humanity. Not that I subscribe to everything he said. If you know you know.
Why should people watch Remnants of Nova? We didn’t want to make a film that was about queer trauma. It wasn’t, “Hey, I have mental health issues because I’m gay.” It’s, “Hey, I’m gay and I have mental health issues.” If you’re looking for an exploration of queer characters dealing with their own mental health problems, and if you’ve ever been in a conflict with a friend, or family member, or a partner where you both are dealing with your own mental health problems, this could be a film for you to kind of have a view of what that looks like.
James wrote, directed, and produced Remnants of Nova, now streaming on Lavendr. He runs Edits Etc., a remote post-production house, during the day, and feverishly writes scripts, reads a wide array of books, watches movies, and socializes abundantly outside of work.
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