People with fervor are appealing. Their enthusiasm attracts supporters. People with vision are leaders. Their dream motivates action. When people possess both fervor and vision, they are nearly unstoppable.

Donna Dewey is such a person. Denver's own bit of Hollywood stardom, Dewey won an Academy Award in 1997 for her short documentary, A Story of Healing, based on the charitable work of American plastic surgeons helping Vietnamese children born with severe physical defects.

No overnight wonder, she's been slogging away at filmmaking since she was a small child in Iowa. Now she's producing independent features from her base, Dewey-Obenchain Films Inc., here in Denver.
She shares her story in bits and pieces, among the narration about her current and upcoming projects. The current film Skills Like This focuses on a failed playwright and his two friends, who change their lives when one realizes that larceny might be his best personal skill.

Although still officially unreleased, the work won the Audience Award at the South by Southwest Festival earlier this year in Austin, Texas, beating 3,200 other entries in the narrative film category. SXSW, as it's known, has become one of the world's premier film festivals, focusing on new directing talent. "The word-of-mouth has been fantastic," Dewey raves.

Since the win in March, Cinetic Media, the country's biggest independent film sales firm (they handled Little Miss Sunshine), has begun representing Skills Like This to distributors, and Dewey hopes to see it on screens within a year.

The road to this high point has been long and often rocky, strewn with rejections. But if one quality sets Dewey apart from other wannabes, it's persistence. Her journey to today's success took her from Sergeant Bluff, Iowa, where her family encouraged creativity and where she gained a sense of competitiveness by participating in sports. "Sports give you persistence," she says.

Then it was on to the University of Nebraska, where she obtained a bachelor's degree in fine arts and a master's in education, the traditional female fall-back position. She did, in fact, teach for three years in the rough-and-tumble setting of Compton, California, known for its gritty urban life, complete with gangs, social problems and violence.

This background would stand her in good stead when years later she made the documentaries Homeboys I, II and III. The job also took her to Southern California and an occasional brush with the film industry. Still, Colorado called to her. Her family owned a summer place in Estes Park, so she was familiar with the state's appeal. When she married in the early ‘70s, Denver was agreeable both to her and her then-husband, Jim Phelan, who started a company for commercial and corporate film projects.

After the birth of their son Brian in 1976, the business offered Dewey many opportunities for hands-on experience. She learned on the job in all phases of the business as well as production. She also did freelance producing for local advertising agencies, among them The Evans Group and creative director Rock Obenchain.

Cut to 1985. That's when she and Obenchain formalized a partnership to create Dewey-Obenchain Films Inc. (Also that year, her marriage with Phelan ended. She now is married to Denver artist Michael Stano, who exhibits locally at Sandy Carson Gallery, so maybe that degree in fine arts DID come in handy.) The two filmed commercials for many major businesses, including United Bank, the Colorado Lottery and Frontier Airlines.

The dream of feature films wouldn't let go, but it was put on hold again until she was shooting a public service announcement and had a chance meeting with the Rev. Leon Kelly, Denver's best-known anti-gang activist, leading to the documentary Homeboys in 1989. The documentary won the grand prize at the Aspen Filmfest and screened at the Leningrad International Film Festival, then showed on the Learning Channel and PBS.

Others followed, including two updates of Homeboys; Chiefs, about a basketball team's winning season, and House on Fire, a series about HIV and AIDS in the African-American community, among them. Dewey's work was known as skilled and sensitive, particularly on social issues. "Documentaries presented themselves organically," she says about the transition from commercials to other types of filmmaking.

However, the esteem and financial base of documentaries couldn’t replace the lure of feature films, and Dewey continued to develop scripts during this period. Finally came the first bankroll-able feature, Looking for Sunday, which, like the current production, was filmed in Denver. Released in 2006 with fair-to-middling reviews, according to a scan of Google, its notice now been usurped in Dewey's life by Skills.

Her role in both productions has been as producer. "There are many types of producers," she points out. And many abilities, she adds. Some producers provide financial backing; some are married to the person with money, she jokes. A hands-on producer like Dewey is someone who can recognize a "really great story and who can tell that story best."

Recognizing the great story means Dewey read the script by Spencer Berger (who also played the lead in the movie). Telling the story means selecting the director — in this case, Monty Miranda, whose debut feature film this was. Berger and Miranda finalized the script in 2005, with Dewey, a self-proclaimed “classicist" in the genre, guiding them along the way. Then Dewey put together an investor package, using a trailer developed especially for the effort, managing to accomplish the task by early 2006.

Dewey mentions with amazement that the filmmaking process went smoothly. The project was a collaboration for the cast, who worked together "like a family." In more ways than one. Son Brian appears in the film and served as a producer, too, as did Rock Obenchain, who also edited along with director Miranda. Editing alone took months, time when the future appeared uncertain.

"These are risk-taking people," Dewey points out, a statement true of everyone in the film business, she believes. They risk security for their art. This belief tints her advice for people wanting to act: "Don’t waste your time outside of New York or Los Angeles." Brian currently lives in Los Angeles, where he's developed valuable contacts in the industry, some of whom are helping launch the new film.

Dewey's own future isn't limited to producing, and being a woman doesn't create barriers. "I've never been treated like a 'woman' in this business," she claims, "but like a person." Although she says, "It's important to know as a producer when a role (job) isn't your voice," she's written scripts and plans at some time trying her hand at directing. She does wish she'd tried more acting in the past as part of her experiences.

She recently took an "Acting for Directors" class and gained a great respect for actors. As an actor "you have to trust the people you're working with," she says.

Right now she's looking at several possibilities for films, although Denver might not be the location. Unfortunately, the city she's called home for more than 30 years currently lacks the hospitality and amenities of other possible locations, such as New Mexico. Despite Dewey's residence and even her participation on the Denver Commission for Cultural Affairs, she's found little financial encouragement to continue production locally.

"Denver needs incentives to get a stable film industry," she believes. For example, New Mexico makes available up to $12 million in state support for films in production there. Even services like police for location work may not be provided in Colorado.

The challenge doesn't seem to discourage Dewey. She has a can-do attitude that is ageless, perhaps because "this business is a young business," she says, referring to the relatively youthful ages of cast and crew. Thirty-seven interns worked on Skills in positions of responsibility, and Dewey is happy to serve as a mentor. She recalls those who mentored her, in particular director Jack Clayton, of Room at the Top and Pumpkin Eater, who telephoned her after she sent him a script out of the blue. Although that script never got made, she met with him several times a year on what she calls script-writing "exercises."

As for retirement? This draws a scoffing laugh. "People don't retire from their art," she says. "That's for people who are doing what they're doing to make a living."

And her advice to women who have a secret yen to try any kind of creative endeavor? "Try it, no matter what your age ... be willing to start at the bottom, but have the confidence you know you'll end at the top." Having fervor and vision helps, too, as Donna Dewey knows.