By Liam Heitmann-Ryce-LeMercier

When director D Smith conceived Kokomo City in the early 2020s, there was no shortage of transgender and LGBTQ+ content in the cultural landscape. The problem, as she saw it, was outreach and impact. "I just felt like we were almost preaching to ourselves at one point," she says.

What Smith wanted was something different, a film in which trans women could speak freely and without the kind of self-censorship that public visibility so often demands. Speaking of the trans women whose stories are presented in the film, Smith shares proudly, "The girls' guards were down. No-one was really in pageantry mode, which is such a hassle being a trans person. We have to say the right things, and we can't say what we truly feel."

Across her body of work ahead of Kokomo City’s production, Smith had worked primarily in the music industry and, pointedly, never directed a film before. A Grammy-winning producer prior to her transition, Smith’s choice to live her life freely came at the cost her professional network, her income, and her housing almost overnight.

It was thanks to the support of a friend who bought Smith a computer and a camera that she was able to begin shooting Kokomo City, using iMovie to edit the lighting, sound and recorded footage by herself. The decision to make the film solo was not the original plan, however. Smith had initially sought someone else to direct, reaching out across New York City for collaborators. "No one stepped up to the plate," she says, "so I did it myself, and I'm so happy I did."

The resulting film is shot in dazzling black and white, on a handheld setup that intimately captures the experiences of the four Black transgender sex workers at the heart of the film’s narrative. This decision to be in such immediate physical proximity to the subjects was driven by aesthetics and as well restraints on budget. Unable to afford a director of photography, Smith operated the camera herself, resulting in a visual presentation that is disarmingly relaxed as well as highly personal and incisive.

"There's something beautifully haunting about black and white," Smith reflects, "and to have those girls' languages, and hard stories and hard truths… I was very happy that I did it that way."

Smith's ambitions for the finished film were modest. "I'm not gonna lie to you, I thought maybe I'll just end up putting it on YouTube! I had no goals on taking it to a festival or awards; I just wanted people to have access to this."

The film's trajectory, however, was shaped by a chance encounter. Producer Harris Doran received a rough cut of the film via a chain of mutual acquaintances, and he was immediately struck by what he saw. He followed up with 19 pages of notes and concluded with a promise that ultimately defined their working relationship. "I was like, I'm gonna be the producer for you that you never had," Doran recalls. "Which means you don't have to take any of my notes. I'll just give you everything for you to reflect on. You go off and you do whatever you want, and I will support you no matter what."

The partnership proved transformative. Kokomo City premiered at Sundance, won the TEDDY Award for Best Documentary at the 2023 Berlinale, and generated an incredible headwind of international accolades. For Smith, the recognition confirmed something larger than career success. "I made this film from nothing, with nothing," she says. "And the fact that Yale university is playing it, and it's programmed in museums… It is just amazing that you could create something that was not in existence, and people could relate to it."

Three years after its victorious premiere, Kokomo City was screened again at the 2026 Berlinale in the same theatre where it had first flickered to life onscreen. Harris Doran was in attendance at this retrospective screening, in a series of 14 influential films programmed to celebrate the landmark 40^th anniversary of the TEDDY AWARD. The experience moved him to think back on what the film had accomplished beyond its awards recognition.

"I really think that it influenced the curve," he says of the broader cultural conversation around trans identity. "I was so moved by it, and I was reflecting on how it was only three years ago that we were here, and how much has changed. The movie still feels very fresh and vital, but I can see the nuance of what has changed in the world and what has changed in the conversation around transness and women in the film.”

Being selected for the TEDDY 40 retrospective felt less like a formal honour than a reunion. As Doran ponders, "It feels like when the film got in, we became part of a family, and that didn't stop in just that year. It actually just feels like a coming-home in this retrospective.”

For Smith, the TEDDY 40 programming carries much more personal and historical significance. "When I'm long gone, Kokomo City will always be accessible to people, to young trans people – or even to heterosexual men, who need that comfort and that reassurance to say what you feel is okay. What you feel is natural and normal."

Asked what she would offer other filmmakers with a story they feel compelled to tell, Smith returns to the principle that guided Kokomo City from that friend’s handheld camera all the way to the Berlinale: "Stick your neck out and say, I have to do this. This is what I'm made for, and the world has to hear this. Just absolutely be yourself when you're creating. That is a number-one winner. Own your voice; to own your perspective, to own your opinion, to own your point of view. It's so important, because there's nothing more refreshing than something new; a new voice."