Kin Marie is a film producer, director, editor, and co-founder of post production company, Brain Studios, who has spent most of her life on the South Side, including South Shore, Greater Grand Crossing, Bronzeville, and Hyde Park. Her artistic work is deeply rooted in her upbringing and an acute understanding of Black queer life in Chicago. My first introduction to the work of Marie and Brain Studios work was the 2023 music video CHAOS that she made for Chicago artist J Bambii. The music video was Afro-surrealist in nature, entangling the viewer in the bizarre experience of Black girlhood and complicating ideas of self-image, racism, and desire.
With films like CHAOS, Kin Marie follows a line of budding Black filmmakers communicating Black struggle, joy, and life, while avoiding exploitation and reaching for imaginative storytelling in which Black people get to see their present and their future. While we talked, Marie noted a sense of protection over the types of people she writes about. This can be felt in every film, whether they feature arguments over coleslaw in LIBIAMO!, a film set in a local Chicago restaurant, or friends grieving over chitterlings during a gathering to honor a passed friend inFor Genesis. Marie depicts Black people tenderly even in their worst moments and avoids the tendency to lean towards the graphic, obvious, or violent when translating Black life. As someone who lives in Chicago, it was a special treat to dig into her filmography. Her films don’t just take place in Chicago; they foster a sense of home within it, featuring recognizable spots like Maxwell Street, brands like Party Noire and their “Here for Black Joy” shirts, and Black Chicago events like the Afro Disco Social. Black life feels full, alive, and incredibly special in Kin Marie’s world.
I spoke with Kin Marie about growing up on the Low End, going from making commercials to films, and her production studio. The interview has been edited for length and clarity.
You describe yourself as a producer, director and colorist. What do these titles actually mean to you?
I’m a producer, director, and editor, and honestly, these things—they’re my job, but they’re also my tools. I more so perceive them as tools for larger forms of communication that I find can be harder to like, express or share with other people.
How has growing up kind of Low End on the South Side influenced your work?
I’m a Low End shorty. I’ve been on the Low End my whole life. After living in South Shore, I’ve pretty much just pinged between Bronzeville, Hyde Park, and Greater Grand Crossing my whole life.
I actually grew up going to Catholic school—private Catholic school up north. It used to be a high school, and that’s where my parents met; they’re still together to this day. But then halfway through, I went to another Catholic school in Boystown, ironically. And I was the only Black girl, for real. My entire middle school class was really small—our graduating class was like six people. I’d say I had a very well-rounded, yet polarizing experience. I was learning so much—culturally and just inherently—within the place where I lived. I was raised in the same house my father and his family grew up in. It was very family-oriented.
I was a theater kid, so I was definitely in the arts. I think it was a safe space to expand and grow into who I am and discover myself. But at the same time, I was dealing with a lot of assimilation and Black girl survival—trying to feel safe and aligned with people who were nothing like me.
You’re seeing a lot of the city (growing up), do you feel like there are any motifs or, like, obsessions that you developed?
Chicago is always a constant foundation in my work, even when it’s not the direct focus. Last year, I took part in this film challenge called the Filmmaker’s Mixtape Challenge, where I had to make a film every month of the year. One of the few rules I set for myself was that there had to be some element of Chicago in each film. It’s an influence in everything I do. I focus on how we authentically communicate with each other—what our dialogue and dialect sound like when we’re authentically in a place.
A big objective I always have is showing the versatility of Chicago and how much cinematic potential exists here, in areas you wouldn’t expect. Or you wouldn’t assume, if you’re not from them, would have that potential.
You get a lot of energy from the city. Is there anything else that is sustaining your creative practice?
I really just pull from my friends and my experiences. I feel like a lot of my work is very conversational. I like to believe my work serves as an observation—an invitation to see, to witness, but also to be dropped right in the middle of these experiences.
Even though it is an invitation, these people don’t owe you their souls or their stories. They don’t have to tell you all their business—especially because the main characters in my films are often Black women and queer people. Right now, they are at the forefront of my work, and honestly, they probably always will be, even as I change and experiment with different things. I think, at its core, my work is about understanding the nuances of our relationships with each other—how we hold each other through grief, how we make each other laugh, how we fall in love, how we celebrate holidays.
When did you start to identify as an artist?
I feel like my community has kind of been the positioning factor that has helped me really fine-tune what I’m even doing. I had no plans on becoming a filmmaker or anything like that. Even to this day, honestly, when people ask me what I like to watch, I really only watch Real Housewives of Atlanta. I’m not a cinephile or anything like that.
I think how I even got into film was really through—I went to school for marketing and communications, and I chose that major to help my friends market their work, their collectives, and stuff like that. I was making commercials and short-form content for people. Somebody really liked what I was doing, and he asked me to direct one of his first music videos. I was like, ‘Dude, I don’t direct. I don’t know why you’re asking me to do that.’ But I did it anyway, and I really enjoyed the feeling of it. It was really well received.
I think because of all the stuff I was doing in marketing—short-form commercials and content—people were picking up on a lot before I even saw it for myself. It was really just people instilling confidence in me to keep going. I would say I got more formal with film around 2022 or 2023 when I started working for HANA—Hana Beauty—which is this shea butter company in Chicago. I kind of leveraged my shipping and packaging job to tell them, like, ‘Hey, I have a little experience in film.’ And I was like, ‘If you guys want to start producing more content, more commercials…’
We started really small, and then I feel like they put more trust in me, and we were able to do more campaigns and higher-scale commercials. That’s when I felt more confident calling myself a producer. I used that confidence to allow myself to understand the process of film a bit more. And then I kind of—I think once I directed the J Bambii music video CHAOS, that was the moment I felt like, ‘This is something I feel 100 percent proud of.’
You started Brain Studios. How did you decide to start it and to do that with friends?
I started Brain Studios, a post-production company based on the South Side, with my best friend, Brendan Smith. We started it back in 2020. At that time, Brendan was a large reason I’m able to do most of what I’m doing today. When I needed to edit or started taking on clients, he would let me come to his house and edit on his computer in his room for hours. He would stay up with me—I’d be editing something until four or five in the morning, and he’d stay up playing video games.
For me and him, we just get it. We’re both Sagittariuses, we’re both Virgo risings, and we’re very close. We just fill in each other’s gaps. I had brought him to co-direct with me for CHAOS. I needed the production to show people what I could do. I need people—I have a community of people that have always loved and supported me. I felt like, to get to the next step I wanted to go to, I needed to enter spaces where people could just take me a bit more seriously. I think me and Brendan fit really well because I’m a very strong, strategic, and conceptual person, and Brendan is more technical—he comes from a broadcast TV background. He’s an editor, like a very prolific editor. I think our puzzle pieces match because we have so much care for each other. It’s easy for us to be transparent with each other because—yeah, we’re both Sagittariuses.
Now you have this company together. Y’all are finding your flow. If things go really well would you relocate to LA or New York? Is that a goal at all?
I am a true-blue Chicagoan, for real. I really don’t see a point in leaving. There’s so much creativity here. Obviously, every city has its quirks, so I’m not going to sit here and pretend Chicago is perfect. But our creative spaces make sense to me. A lot of us operate with grassroots ideologies—our work isn’t just about access or chasing larger industry spaces hovering over us.
I think about so many different amazing brands that have been working, integrating their work with how they serve their community. I think that’s something that’s just so rare and rich. We have so much history here in Chicago that’s untapped, there’s just no reason for me to go to LA. There’s really no reason outside of this idea that there’s something in LA that I can’t attain here, I definitely would travel to work in LA. I feel like, for me, it’s Chicago or nothing. If I’m not living in Chicago, I’m not living in the US.
What goals do you have for your work?
I feel like right now, I’m just really in a maintenance period. I think my goal is to get my web series going, which will be a mixed-media series combining narrative and documentary. I’m just trying to get as many eyes on For Genesis as I can—really trying to have it do as well as possible in the film festival circuit. I’m going to be doing a lot of things like crowdfunding, fundraising, and event activation because I’m trying to take my cast—my queer queens—around the world. I think I really do want to prioritize providing networking opportunities for them and allowing them to see themselves on larger screens in different cities. I want them to have the opportunity to really see how people receive the work they put into it. So that’s really where I’m trying to focus—on elevating, promoting, and pushing For Genesis while connecting with different forms of Black media.
Arieon Whittsey (they/them/theirs) is a storyteller who has recently made their home in Chicago. They are an enjoyer of all forms of media, especially contemporary novels that make them cry and music that makes them dance.