Lessons in Adapting: A Conversation with the Filmmakers of "Meandering Scars"

Meandering Scars follows Erika Bogan, a woman disabled from a domestic violence attack. Why this subject matter? How did you find her, and what made you want to pursue this story (besides it being an incredible story to document …)?

Allison Norlian/Kody Leibowitz: When we launched our production company, BirdMine, in 2020, we had no idea what our first documentary would be. Like any millennial former journalists, we leaned into what we knew best: storytelling. We started creating content for our YouTube channel and website to showcase our voice, our vision, and the kinds of stories we hoped to tell.

Naturally, we gravitated toward a subject close to our hearts: disability representation. We began developing a short-form series spotlighting individuals with disabilities who were breaking barriers in the fitness world. For Allison, whose sister has a profound developmental disability, disability advocacy has always been deeply personal. That passion became the foundation of our work and the lens through which we chose to tell our first stories.

Through the beginnings of that project, we were introduced to many inspiring people—including Erika Bogan, a Spartan and CrossFit athlete. During our very first pre-interview with Erika, we knew she had something special that would make her an incredible fit for the series.

Then, at the end of the call, she casually mentioned something that stopped us in our tracks: she was planning to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro in her wheelchair—not just for the physical challenge, but to raise awareness about suicide and mental health struggles in the disability community. Erika shared that she had nearly taken her own life and had lost multiple friends with disabilities to suicide. She believed this was a crisis the world wasn’t paying attention to.

And at that moment, we knew we weren’t making a short-form series anymore.

We had found our first documentary.

We immediately pivoted all our energy and resources toward telling Erika’s story. Meandering Scars was born. It follows Erika and her team as they attempt to summit Mt. Kilimanjaro, the tallest free-standing mountain in the world—not just as a physical feat, but as a mission to save lives and bring to light the often-overlooked mental health struggles among people with disabilities.

There were many reasons why we felt compelled to tell this story, beyond its inherent power. Both of us have personal connections to the themes that run through the film.

As mentioned, Allison is the sister of someone with profound disabilities. Her grandmother also had multiple sclerosis and used a wheelchair full-time, exposing her at an early age to the inaccessibility that still defines much of society. That lived experience fueled her work as a journalist—and now, as a filmmaker—committed to changing that reality.

Kody, too, felt a personal connection. His mother was a survivor of domestic violence, like Erika, and she later became ill and passed away from catamenial epilepsy. Her strength, resilience, and untold story remain a driving force behind his work.

Together, our lived experiences shaped our desire to tell stories that challenge perception, expand empathy, and amplify voices that often go unheard. Erika’s story did all of that—and more.

This is your debut feature documentary production for BirdMine (and for Allison personally, if I’m not mistaken). Biggest lessons learned? In development, production, post, the works.

Meandering Scars is the first feature documentary from Kody, Allison, and their production company, BirdMine. The film was five years in the making—filled with unexpected challenges, emotional turns, and countless lessons learned along the way.

AN: There were so many lessons I took from making this documentary, but I’ll share two of the most impactful:

1. You can plan everything—but real life rarely sticks to a script.

We spent hours planning this film—structuring shoot schedules, identifying themes, mapping out the story we thought we’d be telling. But when you're documenting real people, their lives don’t follow outlines. They evolve. Unexpected events, emotional pivots, and unseen truths emerged during production—many of which reshaped the documentary entirely. Kody and I had to learn to let go of control and follow the story, wherever it led.

2. You’ll always wish you shot more.

We filmed thousands of hours of footage—and somehow, during editing, I still found myself thinking, “I swear we captured that moment ...” only to realize we hadn’t. One major lesson: overshoot everything. Not just your action or b-roll, but even interviews. Ask your subjects similar questions in multiple ways. Get them to reflect on the same themes more than once. You never know which version will resonate most in the edit.

Making Meandering Scars wasn’t just about telling Erika’s story—it was about growing as a filmmaker, learning to listen more closely, and trusting the process even when it took us in directions we never expected.

KL: Those are good answers, Allison. Can I copy? No? Okay, I’ll add on to one of your lessons.

My biggest lesson was to adapt. Adapt to the changing surroundings. Adapt to an ever-changing story. Adapt to a timeline change, meaning change in time we were in production and time we were in post-production. And adapt to life changes.

Allison and I both currently live on the West Coast, so we had to constantly travel to where the documentary took us, whether to Erika’s home state of North Carolina or documenting various Spartan races in the Southeast or filming with our expert in Ohio or traveling across the globe to Tanzania. Or, specifically for me, to adapt to a new home and live in North Carolina for a month to film with Erika at the end of 2022.

We had to adapt to Erika’s journey changing and how the film was going to end. Meandering Scars wasn’t always going to end the way it did; it took a global event like the Delta variant for us to adapt.

We had to adapt to life. I left my full-time job mid-2023 so Allison and I could log thousands of hours of sound and write the documentary script. At the beginning of 2024, I donated my kidney, so that delayed our post-production a bit. Our composer was touring in the summer of 2024 so we adjusted our own timeline and expectations. Just a lot of adapting over the years.

I’m sure you’ll get this question again from others, and I’m sure you’ve gotten it already: how challenging was shooting in that environment?

Shooting on the side of the tallest free-standing mountain in the world—complete with five climate zones and zero power outlets?

Oh, sure … piece of cake. (Insert heavy sarcasm here.)

Filming on Mt. Kilimanjaro was one of the most physically and logistically demanding challenges we’ve ever taken on. Everything—from gear limitations to battery life to the terrain itself—required intense planning and creative problem-solving.

Fortunately, we had Valentina Vee as our Director of Photography on the mountain. Valentina is an incredibly skilled cinematographer with experience shooting in rugged outdoor environments, and her expertise was invaluable.

To make things as manageable as possible, we committed to lightweight, reliable gear. Our primary tools were Canon cameras—two R5Cs generously donated by Canon, plus a Canon R6. We also brought along a Blackmagic camera, a Sony, a GoPro, and a drone to help capture sweeping aerials and action shots.

Power, of course, was a major concern. We pre-charged a strategic supply of batteries and brought solar chargers for backup—though we quickly learned that sunlight on the mountain can be unpredictable and charging was, at best, finicky.

We opted not to bring large stabilizers or rigs, instead choosing to travel light and adapt to each day’s conditions. Every night, after long and grueling treks, we dumped footage onto a laptop—carefully managing storage and double-backing everything we could.

It was far from easy, but thanks to our incredible on-the-ground production team—Kody, Allison, Valentina, Becca Habegger, and Bobby Katz—we made it happen. The conditions were harsh, but the payoff was huge: stunning, intimate footage of a once-in-a-lifetime journey.

During the shoot, or in the leadup, was there a moment with Erika for you that resonated most? A part of her experience you felt especially moved by?

AN: I can’t fully answer this question without giving away key parts of the film—but what I can say is this: from the very beginning, I was in awe of how Erika transformed her pain into purpose.

Throughout the filming process, I watched her confront challenge after challenge—whether it was pushing through a Spartan race, scaling boulders on Mt. Kilimanjaro on her hands and knees, or returning to the site of the traumatic event that left her paralyzed. In each of these moments, she demonstrated incredible strength, grace, and resilience.

What makes Erika truly remarkable, though, isn’t just her courage—it’s her authenticity. She’s not afraid to be vulnerable, to show her emotions, or to admit when things are hard. She doesn’t try to be a polished version of herself—she’s raw, real, and unapologetically human.

That’s what I love most about her. And I’m incredibly grateful that she trusted Kody and me to help tell her story.

KL: I am, too, grateful, because Erika didn’t have to let us film everything and tell the messy sides of life. But she agreed to it and trusted Allison and I telling her story.

And that really encompasses who Erika is: she’s authentic, she’s raw, she’s brilliantly imperfect, scars and all. Back in the summer of 2021—so six or seven months after starting this documentary—Allison and I called Erika to talk about after Kilimanjaro. Do we continue filming? We wanted to, because we wanted to explore what happens after the climb, whenever the climb takes place. Success or failure, does Erika continue her advocacy? Or does she relax and let the next advocate for disability rights pick up where she left off?

Erika was all for it, because her life during filming was full of highs and lows. The highs are high, the lows are low, and there’s barely any in-between. She wanted to show what it’s like to be disabled in America, scars and all.

What struck me—and I know Allison and that she’s a stickler for details, so it was no huge surprise—is that it’s so slickly composed and brilliantly edited. Which, imvho, is where a lot of docs fail, on a creative level.

Did you watch certain docs or study certain filmmakers to replicate, or draw inspiration from, a particular style? Or did you kind of learn your approach as you went along?

AN/KL: Meandering Scars is very much our creative vision—our style, our art, and our brainchild. From the use of animation to the choice to weave together the U.S. and Kilimanjaro timelines rather than tell the story linearly, many of the film’s creative decisions were born directly from our own instincts and storytelling preferences.

That said, we did draw inspiration from a few powerful works—most notably the documentary Minding the Gap. That film deeply influenced how we approached our American footage. We wanted it to feel raw, unfiltered, and intimate—almost like home video—capturing Erika’s life in a fly-on-the-wall style that felt honest and emotionally grounded.

For the Kilimanjaro timeline, we looked to narrative cinema—specifically Dune. The vastness, texture, and immersive atmosphere of that film helped shape the visual tone we wanted for the mountain sequences: something epic, harsh, and emotionally expansive.

In the end, Meandering Scars blends our own creative instincts with the influence of storytellers we admire, resulting in a film that feels deeply personal, both in story and in style.

As you mentioned, your cinematographer was utterly fantastic, and I’m creating this question so you can gush about her ...

AN There truly aren’t enough positive adjectives to describe Valentina Vee. She was, without question, the best Director of Photography we could have possibly asked for on Mt. Kilimanjaro. I mentioned this earlier, but it’s worth repeating—Valentina is the reason we were able to successfully shoot this film under some of the most physically demanding and unpredictable conditions imaginable.

Beyond her undeniable talent and technical skill, what sets Valentina apart is her intuition. Her creative instincts are razor-sharp. Whether it was capturing a quiet emotional beat or adjusting on the fly to the constantly shifting environment, she always knew exactly what was needed—often before we did. She's a rare blend of precision, artistry, and grit.

Shooting on Kilimanjaro meant navigating five climate zones, extreme altitudes, and unreliable power sources—not to mention hiking for hours with gear on your back. Valentina handled it all with unwavering focus and creativity. She never complained, never faltered, and always elevated the material.

This was our first time working with her but it wasn’t the last —Valentina also served as Director of Photography on our short film Thirteen, and once again brought her signature style, professionalism, and passion to that project. Working with her is not only a gift to any production, it’s also a true collaboration that makes you better as a storyteller.

I learned SO much from her and I am beyond grateful to have had her by our side for both of these deeply personal projects.

KL: Oh wow, there are not enough words in my lexicon to describe the sheer brilliance of Valentina Vee. Let’s talk about the technical skills first: the work she puts in on the front end—her preparation—to understand what we, as directors, needed out of our Kilimanjaro portion of the film is outstanding.

Valentina’s understanding of landscaping, temperature, sound, and speed of the film are incredible. Adventure is in her forte as she was able to take a small-budget documentary and make it feel like a big-budget narrative film in its look and style. Valentina Vee will be an Oscar winner.

I know the documentary market is, as it’s arguably always has been, tricky. As far as financing and distribution, I mean. But it also seems like it’s picking up, with more streaming platforms as options.

What are your thoughts on that? It goes without saying that we need docs like this, to spotlight the stories that matter, but what can be done to increase awareness and gain larger viewership?

AN: As someone who’s still relatively new to the industry, I don’t pretend to have all the answers. But what I’ve observed since moving to L.A. in 2018 is that the documentary and narrative markets both tend to move in waves. There are moments of momentum and opportunity, followed by periods of uncertainty or saturation. The landscape is always shifting, and you really have to stay adaptable.

That said, I do think we’re in a time when people are craving real stories—stories with substance, empathy, and purpose. And while it’s true that the documentary market can be tricky when it comes to financing and distribution, it also feels like there’s more space than ever for diverse and underrepresented voices—especially with the rise of streaming platforms, niche distributors, and impact-driven campaigns.

With Meandering Scars, we set out to tell a story that feels emotionally honest and visually powerful. It’s not an easy topic—suicide, disability, trauma—but it’s a story told with heart, strength, and hope. Amid so much darkness in the world, our goal was to offer something different: authenticity, resilience, and light. I truly believe people are hungry for that right now.

What will help expand awareness and grow viewership? First, it’s continuing to build real relationships—with audiences, with communities, with advocates. It’s getting the film in front of people who not only watch but feel something—and who then want to share it. It’s also about pushing for more representation in gatekeeping spaces: programmers, distributors, press. The more diverse perspectives we have shaping what gets seen, the more room there is for stories like Erika’s.

And finally, I hope the level of care and craft that went into Meandering Scars—from the stunning cinematography to the raw interviews to the non-linear narrative approach—makes it impossible to look away. Because these stories deserve not just to be told, but to be seen, heard, and remembered.

KL: For sure, I think it is still a tricky market. It seems like it's picking up, but with every two steps forward, like increased streaming platforms and content creators delving into short-form docs online, there's a step back. Participant [Media] closing down as one example. I think the industry is still coping with that aftermath, specifically for socially driven docs and narratives.

Because, Matt, you’re right, we do need more documentaries and films like Meandering Scars. Representation matters. Reliability and this sense of belonging matters. Like Allison said, it’s a film told with heart, strength, and hope that is ever-needed in a traumatized world. People are wanting that realness, that relatability, and that sense of feeling seen in the films and media—broadly—they consume.

So what can be done? It starts with community building. Like Allison said, it comes down to building and maintaining real relationships with audiences, communities, and advocates, meeting people where they are now and continuing the conversation after the film ends. Because life isn’t contained in 102 minutes.

People are yearning for community. We see it in new media with livestreaming. We see it in sports with filled up stadiums. And we see it with film and theaters. Audiences want to go to theaters. The numbers show it. We hear it in conversations from people outside the creative space. But they want to go for the right films, and documentaries are those right films for longer theatrical runs.

You’re gonna scrounge up a millionaire investor and produce 50 more documentaries, right?

KNOW ANYONE FOR US TO SPEAK TO MATT???*  

That's the goal! "Dear millionaire investors: through your generosity, we can connect to direct and fund impactful and lasting documentaries for decades to come."

How's that for a pitch?

*[Matt did not, in fact, know any millionaires]