Memory is a curious thing. It blends the conscious and subconscious, creating something that can hurt us, lead us astray, and bring us comfort or pain. It can be grounding and disorienting. It can also scare us, particularly if it begins to fade away.
Nikki Giovanni doesn’t find the latter intimidating. Though recent health struggles have compromised her memory, she has long employed autonomy over what her mind holds onto. Which, in many ways, allows Giovanni to fully surrender to the limitlessness of her existence. It will take her anywhere, even Mars.
The 79-year-old’s interpretation of memory is what’s explored in Going to Mars: The Nikki Giovanni Project. The documentary, which made its debut at Sundance Film Festival this year, does so much more than chart the poet’s life and career. Filmmakers Joe Brewster and Michèle Stephenson do something much more compelling: explore where a soul has been and where it’s going.
“I don’t remember a lot of things,” Giovanni says at the top of the documentary, while images of the galaxy and video clips of her as a child dance across the screen. “I remember what is important and I make up the rest. That’s what storytelling is all about.”
That statement sets the tone for Going to Mars. Though Brewster and Stephenson pull from outside sources to tell Giovanni’s story, the poet is still very much in the driver’s seat. This is her story, told her way— she is choosing what she wants her legacy to be, and Brewster and Stephenson embrace and honor that.
With an ethereal quality reminiscent of that of Little Richard: I Am Everything, another Sundance standout, Going to Mars rejects traditional, biographical storytelling in every way. The documentary doesn’t show every step of Giovanni’s life— in fact, major milestones are almost glossed over. Instead, Brewster and Stephenson hand-pick moments in her life where this character trait shines.
Like her unforgettable interview with James Baldwin in 1971— the then 27-year-old was supposed to be interviewing Baldwin, who was in his 40s at the time, but somehow the final result is more of a tete-a-tete between two incredible creatives and intellects. That interview is the thread of Going to Mars, stringing together these moments of brilliance throughout Giovanni’s life.
The project doesn’t shy away from her shortcomings and the backlash she’s received. Going to Mars makes a point to bring up her controversial comments about Apartheid, in which she argued that Black folks should focus on “saving ourselves” stateside rather than abroad. Giovanni doesn’t take the opportunity to revise her statements, she continues to stand in her truth, whether you like it or not.
Giovanni’s family is involved in Going to Mars, and the documentary is honest about her absence from her son’s life. It’s the one area in Giovanni’s life she shows a resemblance of regret. The documentary shows them stepping toward each other in the project, both making a conscious effort to be closer. That closeness benefits Giovanni’s relationship with her 12-year-old granddaughter, who makes several cameos in the documentary spending one-on-one time with the poet. Giovanni is curious about the 12-year-old, which mirrors her feelings about her legacy.
Going to Mars concludes with a montage of the people Giovanni’s work has touched, kicking off with quiet moments between Giovanni and the offspring of her offspring. While Giovanni’s memory may be fading, she is beautifully memorialized in Going to Mars. Her razor-sharp wit, powerful words, her steadfast commitment to the Black community and the core of who she is will always be remembered, even while she’s floating by Mars and throughout the universe.