The 32nd annual Sheffield DocFest commences on June 18 not with an explosion, but with a standout film. “Entertainment, working-class culture, human connection, the influence of pop music and the current state of Britain converge in a humorous, offbeat road movie that traces the journey of an aging pop star attempting to resuscitate and preserve his past victories.” This is the plot summary for director and cinematographer Kim Hopkins’ upcoming documentary, Still Pushing Pineapples, which narrates the poignant and emotional tale of the lead singer from the band Black Lace, who gained fame with their novelty hit “Agadoo” and other popular British party songs like “Superman,” “Do the Conga,” and yes, “We’re Having a Gang Bang.
If you believe you’ve never encountered the 40-year-old tune known as “Agadoo,” you might be taken aback when you learn that you’ve likely heard it, especially its catchy chorus: “Ag-a-doo-doo-doo, move the pineapple, shake the tree. Aga-doo-doo-doo, move the pineapple, grind coffee. Side to side, up and down, jump and bend your knees.
Join in the dancing every evening, sing along with a Hawaiian rhythm.
As I traversed the landscape, Hopkins and her lens trailed behind me – an old-school troubadour on a journey, accompanied by my aging mom and a fresh-faced partner, chasing the elusive dream of a comeback and crafting a tune that would set my usual playlist ablaze with something new.
The title of the movie is reminiscent of the “Still Pushing Pineapples: The True Story of The Legendary Dene Michael” book, which was named after the “Agadoo” song. According to the Sheffield DocFest website, the film explores the transient aspect of fame and the dynamic shifts in British society and cultural preferences. However, it is Michael’s charisma and amiable nature that truly stand out, making for an enjoyable and ultimately emotional biographical drama.
The movie, titled “Produced by Margareta Szabo and edited by Leah Marino,” will make its debut as the opening-night feature of the Sheffield DocFest, which continues until June 23rd. Jenny Bohnhoff from MetFilm Sales is responsible for managing sales for this project.
Prior to the debut of “Still Pushing Pineapples“, Hopkins discussed the genesis of the film, sharing insights via Zoom from York, England. She explained her fly-on-the-wall documentary approach as being akin to “leaping out of an airplane with a suitcase”, and spoke about her experiences as an on-call doctor, expressing concern over what she perceives as a loss of authenticity in many documentaries today. Hopkins also shared her intentions to conclude her trilogy of working-class narratives with a documentary focused on a pub, and emphasized her desire to create films that convey optimism.
How did you discover Dene, meet him, and decide to make a documentary about him?
Before the release of “Still Pushing Pineapples“, Hopkins talked about how she found Dene, met him, and decided to create a documentary. She was in York, England, using Zoom for the conversation. She described her filming style as being like jumping out of a plane with a suitcase, and shared her experiences as an on-call doctor, noting that many documentaries lack authenticity these days. Hopkins also mentioned her plans to finish a trilogy of working-class stories with a documentary about a pub, and stressed the importance of making films with hopeful messages.
At my mom’s place, I had wrapped up watching a movie and found myself surrounded by various IP merchandise related to musicians like Wham! among others. Pondering what new IP to explore, I wondered aloud to my mother, “Do you recall that band? They had that famous ’80s song, and suddenly it dawned on me.” So, I instructed Alexa to play ‘Agadoo’, marking the first time I’d heard it in about 30 years. After a quick Google search, I discovered they were from Yorkshire, England, which I didn’t realize. And, in an unexpected turn of events, I arranged a meeting with Dene, sharing my previous film ‘A Bunch of Amateurs’ with him. He appreciated the style of movies I produced and expressed some apprehension. I reassured him, “Unlike these IP films, I want full access for creating films. It’s all about building a genuine relationship, and you must trust me. Together, we will make this film.
Could you elaborate on the observational and engaging approach you take in your documentaries, and explain why this style is crucial to the narrative you’re trying to convey?
At the National Film and Television School, my education steeped me in cinéma vérité, observational cinema, or direct cinema – whatever term one prefers today. Over time, it’s evolved from extended takes, but the emphasis on storytelling remains paramount. I have consistently believed that a documentary film’s core essence lies in authenticity, which is achieved by capturing real-life events without the artificiality of a studio setting and contrived narratives, offering a true reflection of an individual’s experiences outside the confines of their personal histories.
It seems to me that the documentary is facing difficulties right now due to certain changes. It appears they’ve discarded elements essential to its success – the essence of what makes documentaries compelling. Audiences appreciate authenticity in these productions, connecting with the content on a personal level and embarking on shared experiences through real people’s stories. Thus, I propose eliminating structured interviews and narration, instead letting the narrative unfold organically to preserve that authentic feel.
As a fan myself, I can say that’s exactly what makes this story so captivating! Unexpected twists and turns are part of the ride. When I first began filming with Dene, I never anticipated Hayley would be there too. Initially, my plan was to portray a man who’s been belting out party tunes for four decades, regardless of his personal life ups and downs. He’d travel across the country, perform these anthems, return home at three in the morning, and that would be his routine.
But then Hayley appeared, turning everything on its head! Honestly, she added so much depth to the film, enriching it immensely. Those are the magical moments in documentary-making when you let go and just let the story unfold naturally – like leaping from an airplane with nothing but a suitcase handle for support, trusting that the journey will take you where it needs to go.
I found myself empathizing deeply with her, him, and the group, which led me to feel conflicted at times when observing them. How does this situation resonate with you as a filmmaker?
Or,
I experienced deep feelings of empathy towards her, him, and their group, causing me to struggle with my emotions while watching them. What are your thoughts on this aspect as a filmmaker?
As a gamer, immersing myself in virtual worlds isn’t just a job, it’s an integral part of my identity. It shapes who I am, and for some of us, it becomes more than that – it becomes us. And I saw Dene embody this concept perfectly. This transformation, the symbolism behind it, was something that really intrigued me.
Upon my initial encounter with Dene, he had recently published his autobiography titled “Still Pushing Pineapples“, which caught my attention due to the word “still”. I pondered over the concept of 40 years and wondered about its impact on an individual. What effect does constantly singing “Agadoo” 20,000 times have on a person? It’s like there’s no escape. And as shown in the film, when his singing partner is buried or cremated, Colin, even at his funeral, the song is played. At this point, Dene seemed to understand that he must accept this aspect of himself and embrace it. “This is who I am and how I’ll be remembered forever. Embrace it!” The narrative also explores the notion of the sacrifices one makes in life when their occupation becomes their identity. What happens to family, what happens to other aspects of life? It’s about Dene finding Haley and children, discovering something else he can strive for in the remaining years of his life.
Beyond just Dene Michael, the struggle of defining one’s place in the world and the autonomy to alter that role, or choose not to, seems like a tale with wide-reaching implications. To what extent did you perceive this as a story that resonates universally?
You’re spot on! It seems like this concept holds true for many people. As our careers grow, they often become all-consuming, leading us to question whether we made the best decisions in life and what we may have given up in the process. Dene appears to embody this struggle, and I believe this is a theme that resonates with many.
As a gamer, I can relate this to my own gaming journey. Just like some musicians are known for specific songs that shape their identity, I’ve found myself associated with certain games or genres over time. It’s not just about mastering the latest titles, but also cherishing and revisiting the classics that defined my early years as a gamer.
For instance, imagine playing “Super Mario Bros” for decades, not only when I turned 45, but well into my 60s. It’s easy to understand Mick Jagger’s sentiments about singing “Satisfaction,” but what if I were still jumping on Goombas and saving Princess Peach? The joy and nostalgia would keep me going, not the need for novelty or trendiness. That’s the essence of being a gamer for life, embracing the classics and the evolution of gaming itself.
How long did you spend filming Dene?
These movies usually span roughly around 2.5 years each production cycle. I believe the most valuable asset I offer is time. To me, my profession serves as a perpetual caregiver, which means I’m constantly on standby and accessible. This lifestyle choice comes with significant personal sacrifices.
I spoke to Dene’s mom about this: “You understand, if something tragic were to happen to you, if you were to pass away, would it be okay if I recorded? How do you feel about that? I’d like to film at your funeral. This could significantly impact Dene’s life.” These topics are addressed while creating a film, and building trust takes time. Trust is something we earn through long-standing relationships with friends.
The tone of the film is a mix of warmth but also sadness. How would you describe it?
Melancholy? Yeah, melancholy.
In what manner do you handle situations where a dramatic event occurs in front of your lens, fearing it might come across as exploitative?
Incidents like drama can occur unexpectedly. For instance, one time Dene’s mother fell gravely ill in their aging camper van during a trip to Benidorm, Spain. It was an unusually hot summer, with temperatures reaching 38 degrees Celsius, and the van had no air conditioning. As a result, Dene’s mom suffered from heat stroke while traveling. We were forced to halt our journey. We removed her from the sweltering camper van and transferred her into another vehicle equipped with air conditioning. We paused filming during the entire ordeal and rushed her to a cool room for medical attention. Clearly, there are moments when tough decisions must be made.
In the real world, after I’ve moved on, other genuine individuals will continue living their lives. There may be instances when we need to pause, but not due to ego-driven reasons or anything that doesn’t positively impact others. Unemployment struggles, like Dene’s, are common experiences shared universally.
1. How do you decide where to stop your movies from playing?
2. Can you share some insights on how the ending of this particular film was developed? [SPOILER ALERT: details regarding the documentary’s conclusion will be discussed here.]
In my creative endeavors, I strive to craft films that embody a sense of optimism. Working-class lives can be grueling, and discovering hope amidst the struggle isn’t always straightforward. With the character Dene, I aimed for a climactic moment – a grand finale where he would captivate a vast audience. However, that wasn’t in the cards, and it seemed unlikely he’d ever achieve another chart-topping hit. I pondered: how might we instill hope within Dene at the end? How could we provide him with a positive outlook despite his circumstances?
Despite repeatedly claiming he could sing, it became evident he was only able to perform popular songs like “Agadoo,” “Superman,” and “Do the Conga.” When his mother shared with us a stunning ballad she knew, I thought about trying to acquire the rights to it. We offered Dene the chance, asking: Would you like to record this? To which he responded enthusiastically, expressing his desire to do so for his mother. And so we brought him into the studio, and he sang beautifully. His performance suggests that he indeed possesses a talent for singing. This achievement, after 40 years of ridicule from the music industry, granted him some form of recognition. Our goal was to provide him with something credible, in addition to helping him find a new family and experience love’s hopefulness. Even if it didn’t result in him creating a new hit record or gaining a larger audience, we wanted to leave him with a sense of optimism.
The last scene was filmed in picturesque locations within the Scottish Borders, a region known for its charming small towns.
Why did you pick the title Still Pushing Pineapples?
As a passionate admirer, I can’t help but appreciate how fittingly Still Pushing Pineapples was selected as the title for his autobiography. Much like the movie hints, it seems he couldn’t outrun that moniker. In many aspects, it feels akin to bringing Frankenstein to life – you become the very creature you’ve created.
Is there anything new that you’re already working on?
In my earlier production titled “A Bunch of Amateurs,” we delved into the world of an amateur filmmaking collective, exploring themes of class and ownership of art once more. The question remains, who truly owns creativity? This film also fell under a genre facing challenges in staying relevant, serving as a metaphor for Hollywood’s current struggles and potential decline.
Currently, our production involves a movie named “Still Pushing Pineapples,” followed by the third installment of a trilogy, which takes place within an authentic real ale pub in Bradford, Yorkshire. The title of this film is “The Local.” We’ve been shooting for a year and a half at this location already.
Martha Gellhorn, who was married to Ernest Hemingway, noted during her visit to the U.K.: “To understand the pulse of Britain, head to the pubs.” I’m drawing inspiration from this idea, so we’ve been filming at a local pub called Jacobs Well, gathering insights about various topics such as global events, town affairs, personal lives, and their deepest concerns in our complex world. This project will mark the third installment of our trilogy focusing on working-class narratives, particularly those from northern England. It’s nearing completion, and we aim to release it towards the end of next year.
Interestingly enough, we’ve discovered that pets play a significant role in conversations. Discussions can veer towards Musk or Trump, potential global conflicts, or issues like Ukraine, but what often brings people together is their shared affection for their animals.
How does it feel to open Sheffield DocFest?
As a gamer, I’ve got to admit, it takes some guts to kick off with this movie in these challenging times. Instead of opting for something explicitly political, they went with a comedy-drama set in the heart of the north, speaking volumes about relatable issues that resonate with everyday folks, not just documentary makers’ bubble. Brave choice, I’d say.
Dene exhibits several characteristics that one might associate with an anti-hero. He’s quite unconventional and lacks mainstream appeal. He’s a working-class man from a Caucasian background, who finds himself in a romantic relationship with someone much younger than himself. Despite his questionable choices, we find ourselves sympathizing with him throughout the story. It is crucial to cultivate empathy for our characters in films like these.
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2025-06-11 12:26