Hayden McLean’s FarEye is a film deeply rooted in place. Set against the landscapes of rural Jamaica, the short follows young Khalil as he navigates a world shaped by spirituality, community and adversity. But for McLean, the film is about more than telling one story. It is an opportunity to present Jamaica beyond the familiar images often seen on screen, while giving local talent the chance to take centre stage. Following screenings at Raindance, Palm Springs International ShortFest and HollyShorts, I sat down with McLean to discuss the inspiration behind FarEye, working with the Rastafarian community, creating the film in just three days and why making it has left him feeling quite limitless as a filmmaker.
The opening of FarEye is incredibly striking. Where did the idea for the film come from?
It actually came from an old Jamaican film called Rockers, probably one of our finest works. It came out in 1978 and follows a drummer trying to make it in the music industry, but at the very beginning there’s this beautiful moment where a member of the Rastafarian community looks directly into the camera. I couldn’t stop thinking about that image. It stayed with me for days, and eventually it became the image of our young hero, Khalil. I could just see this little kid running through rural Jamaica, and as that story grew in my head it eventually became FarEye. At the same time, my cinematographer Joel Honeywell told me about his experiences shooting in Jamaica. He said, “The crews are ready, the teams are ready, the talent is there. It’s just that no one’s taking a chance on them.” That really was a lightbulb moment. Those two ideas came together and I realised the next thing I wanted to do was go back to my home country and make something there.
Why do you think Jamaica’s film industry hasn’t had those opportunities?
A lot of international productions come to Jamaica, shoot what they need and then leave. They often bring their own crews from the UK, Canada or America, so incredibly talented local people end up working as assistants rather than leading departments. There just isn’t the regular flow of local productions that allows that talent to flourish, and I wanted FarEye to be part of changing that.
You’ve spoken about contributing to a richer cinematic language for the Caribbean. What aspects of Jamaica did you want to show?
For me, Jamaica in film is usually presented as one of two realities. It’s either the garrison ghettos or the resort postcard, but we’re an island of more than two million people. Not everybody lives in one of those two worlds. I was interested in what I call “the great in-between.” The Jamaica that’s full of laughter, joy, mysticism, spirituality, family, fun and adventure. Obviously you can’t show everything in one film, but I’d love to continue showing the different shades of our island. We’ve done it with music. Music that started here has become a global sound, and I think film can do exactly the same.
“Sometimes if we reduce a whole belief system to just men with dreadlocks who smoke weed, there’s so much more than that. “
FarEye presents Jamaica as a place of spirituality, resilience and community rather than relying on familiar stereotypes. Was challenging those preconceptions a conscious aim from the outset?
Definitely. I’ve seen a lot of stories set in Jamaica over the years and I just felt there was a gap in what wasn’t being talked about or celebrated. Even though I’m not Rastafarian myself, I have such admiration and respect for the community. Sometimes if we reduce a whole belief system to just men with dreadlocks who smoke weed, there’s so much more than that. There’s this incredible sense of liberty, family and culture that’s deeply rooted, and it all connects back to African heritage and Haile Selassie. I found myself becoming naturally curious to learn more, and that curiosity really shaped the film.
The Rastafarian community is portrayed with real authenticity. How did you ensure you got that right?
We had to. It means so much to so many people that there was no room for cultural appropriation or stereotypes. My own curiosity led me to ask questions. One of our cast members, Donisha Prendergast, who’s Bob Marley’s granddaughter, was incredible. She’d tell me if a line didn’t feel authentic or explain things about Rastafarian history that I’d never known. Those little gems made their way into the film. I think it’s important as a director to remove your ego and allow yourself to be teachable. We also had members of the Rastafarian community working on the production who constantly offered advice and perspective. I’m not going to arrive in Jamaica acting like I know everything just because I’m British-Jamaican. These are native Jamaicans. This is their home. The question was always: “How do we tell this story in a way that represents us properly?” I think people felt respected and empowered by that.
The performances are exceptional. What was the casting process like?
Casting was honestly one of my favourite parts of the whole process.
I knew Khalil needed to be played by someone extraordinary because so much of the performance relied on emotion rather than dialogue. When I saw Djamari Roberts, I knew immediately that he was the one. Donisha Prendergast completely changed how I imagined the character of Royal. She brought lived experience that simply couldn’t be written onto the page. We also cast Antoinette Smith in her professional acting debut because she brought something fresh that I’d never seen before. I wanted this film to be the film that gives people chances. There are so many talented actors in Jamaica and I hope this film gives them the recognition they deserve.
The film is visually stunning. How did you develop its look?
We always knew Jamaica itself was going to be a character in the film. Big world, small kid. That was the visual brief for the entire film. We wanted Khalil to feel tiny within these vast landscapes, almost swallowed up by the world around him. At the same time, life is constantly happening around him. People are playing football, chatting on street corners, going about their day, and he simply passes through it all.
That’s Jamaica. It’s always alive.
The film was independently self-funded and shot in just three days. What were the biggest challenges?
Three days is an incredibly ambitious schedule. We were dealing with extreme heat, very long days and the knowledge that there were no pick-up shoots. Whatever we got in those three days had to become the film. What made it possible was the generosity of people across Jamaica. Production companies, the Film Commission and local crew all stepped in to help because they believed in what we were trying to do.
“If I can do this, then I can do anything.“
How have audiences responded at festivals?
I was genuinely surprised by how universal people’s reactions were. The film connected with audiences who had never been to Jamaica, and they found humour and emotion in places I hadn’t expected. That meant a lot because I never wanted the film to feel exclusive. I wanted people to recognise that adversity and hope are universal experiences.
You’re now developing your debut feature, A Cowboy’s Prayer. Has FarEye changed your approach?
Completely. Making FarEye has made me feel almost limitless as a filmmaker. If I can do this, then I can do anything. We went halfway across the world with very little money and only three days to shoot, yet we achieved something I’m incredibly proud of. It gives me so much confidence going into my first feature because now I know what this team is capable of when everyone believes in the same vision.
Finally, what do you hope audiences take away from FarEye?
More than anything, I hope people leave feeling hopeful. Change is possible. We can get so stuck in circumstance, but there’s still a way through to a happy and prosperous life. Khalil’s journey is about finding that path forward, even when life feels overwhelming. But I also hope people remember where the story came from. I want audiences to remember my island. As much as I’m British, I’m also Jamaican, and sometimes Jamaica hasn’t been portrayed fairly on screen. It’s such a special place, and I hope this film encourages people to see it differently and maybe even experience it for themselves.
Ultimately, FarEye is a film about finding a way forward, but it is also McLean’s love letter to the country that inspired it. His hope is that audiences will look beyond the stereotypes and leave with a deeper understanding of the Jamaica he knows and loves. “Change is possible,” he tells me. “We can get so stuck in circumstance and mourning circumstance… but I think there’s a way through that to still have a happy and prosperous life.” And, perhaps most importantly, he wants audiences to remember the place at the heart of his story: “I want them to remember my island.”
