Free Billie Allen: In Conversation with Billie Melissa Rogan

The Two Billies: Billie Melissa Rogan (left); artist Billie Allen (right)

Back in June 2024, I had the pleasure of attending a screening of Fighting to Live, While Waiting to Die, a short film about Billie Allen, directed by Billie Melissa (hereafter BMR, to save confusion!). Billie Allen is an artist and activist who has been on death row in the United States since 1998, convicted for a crime he did not commit in 1997. With the upcoming presidential elections, and with the tragic news of Marcellus Williams’ execution, the time has never been more urgent to share Billie’s story, and to campaign for his release.

After the screening of Fighting to Live, Billie gave BMR a call during the Q&A. It was such a privilege and an incredibly special moment to hear Billie speak and demonstrate his humanity and resilience in the face of an unjust prosecution system.

In October, BMR and I had the chance to catch up in between press screenings at BFI London Film Festival 2024. BMR shared her thoughts on community-building, activism, criticisms of ‘true crime’, and so much more.

Our conversation below has been edited for length and clarity.

Still from Fighting to Live, While Waiting to DiE

TS: It’s lovely to see you again! How have you been since the summer screenings of Fighting to Live in June?

BMR: Back then was the last time I watched the film with an audience. Actually on my way to the screening that you came to, I got a text saying that they’d submit the clemency petition, and now we’re just waiting for the board to say yes or no to the president — they have until the election to do that. It’s all been amping up since then. Bill’s been feeling that as well, but he just has incredible resilience. You heard him on the phone — he’s still that way, but he’s definitely feeling the pressure.

TS: I think talking about his resilience is so important — as the film shows, Billie absolutely refuses to be categorised in any way the wider media might want to frame him and his story. I wonder how you find yourself comparing your own resilience as a creative to Billie’s story. As we both know, it’s hard to secure funding, and generally to find work as creatives. Have you found inspiration from Billie and his story personally?

BMR: Totally, he’s such a good perspective lens shift. But that said, I complain to him so much about stupid things! Like once, I got into an argument with my mum when I was living in New York, and I was on the phone to Billie the next day, and he was giving me life advice about how I shouldn’t fight with her. He really has his head screwed on, and his whole family is like that — it’s definitely from his upbringing. Whenever I spend time with him or around his family, I definitely realise I need to just stop complaining!

But Billie’s also a creative. He’s an artist and a writer — he’s written a book. We don’t talk about his case when we speak. We see things and work in the same way; he also gets frustrated when people don’t take on his ideas. We’re really like two different halves to each other. When he gets out — when, not if! — I think we’re going to be such good creative partners. He’s the more strong resilient one, and I’m more gentle and soft around people. And he definitely sets me straight and on the right path!

TS: It must be exciting and uplifting to think about the future when he’s out. I remember a lovely moment in the doc when his family are just talking about what they’ll cook for him!

BMR: Yeah, that’s what we talk about on the phone all the time — what he’ll do then. And he believes in me like nobody else does — apart from my family. He sees my vision, and I’ve found it so crazy that we’ve found a creative partner in one another under these circumstances. We’ve both acknowledged that these are the worst circumstances for us to have met, but it feels like our paths were meant to cross. That’s his words, not mine — I often just think, how could you be so positive about it?

Billie Allen with some of his artwork. Photo courtesy of the Free Billie Allen Campain

TS: Just going back to your first interaction, then — how did you first learn about Billie Allen?

BMR: His sister Yvette actually messaged me on Twitter. She noticed that I was quite (read: very!) anti-death penalty, and she was putting together a digital art exhibition of Bill’s work. This was during the Trump execution spree from July 2020. She asked me to contribute a video on Free Billie Allen. I said sure, but I wanted to know more about the whole thing. We spoke on Zoom, and Yvette and I just haven’t stopped talking since then! I asked to speak to Bill back then, so I got added to his email and phone list in September 2020, and we’ve been in touch every month ever since.

TS: I’m aware that Just Mercy was a huge influence for you. How did you start that journey from becoming aware to wanting to make your own work?

BMR: Bryan Stevenson (the subject of Just Mercy) said that we can’t change the world with ideas in our minds: it has to be the conviction in our hearts. I’ve always been very political, even since I was really young. I’ve always got very angry about injustices in the world — I definitely get that from my parents. I didn’t even know the death penalty still existed, it was just so crazy to me to learn that it still did in the US. To go home and do noting about it just felt so wasteful — it was a real wake-up call for me. I know a lot of us feel energised by issues in the world but just get too hopeless to do anything except get on with our lives. But I always come back to anti-death penalty activism. I was already a filmmaker, but I didn’t have my purpose as a storyteller. Just Mercy changed my life, so why can’t something I make do the same thing for someone else? I think everyone can do that. If everyone started at a communal level, think about how different the world would be. People spend a lot of energy on things they hate. There’s my Ted Talk..!

TS: Not to sound too general, but the modern world does have a problem there — we’re connected, but also severed, more than ever because of social media. The way people get exposed to information online is very often high-arousal emotion, and that content isn’t actually designed to make a difference.

BMR: Imagine if all the people who shouted at each other online just logged off… and did something else!

TS: Yeah, people see those shouting projects as worthwhile because people’s identities get more and more caught up in defending ideas in a really limited way.

BMR: I spoke to the director of Will & Harper recently, and he said, “It’s really hard to hate up close”.

TS: Yeah, we’re just not designed to form and maintain relationships with people completely remotely like on the internet.

I wanted to mention Marcellus Williams, and how all the media outrage only really happened after his death. It’s exciting to see the level of attention that those stories get, but I wonder how we get audiences to stop engaging with things in a ‘re-traumatising’ way. How can we get people to change their perspective and be proactive in discovering things when it’s not actually too late?

Marcellus Williams, photographed in prison, who was executed in September 2024. Copyright Jeremy Weis Photography

BMR: Bill and his sister and I talk about this a lot — people come in when it’s trendy. I know that’s not malicious, but it’s unhelpful sometimes. As a result of that a lot of misinformation gets spread around, so it can actually be harmful — there was a lot of misinfo during the Trump spree in 2020. I think it’s key to look to reliable sources, and not to rely on news outlets or influencers to give you the details every time. My resource I use is a site called death-penalty-info. They have everyone’s execution dates for the next year. Ideally you need to get involved before someone’s execution date is set. The second Bill gets his date set, I know that everybody that we’ve reached out to will engage and have something to say. I get it — urgency is key to selling stuff.

It always starts with recognising that all these people are humans. That’s what I want to do with the documentary. It’s not a ‘case’, it’s not ‘true crime’, it’s about a person. I don’t know how we combat the sort of town-square approach to the trauma of execution, but it starts with putting humanity first.

Marcellus Williams had the Missourians Against the Death Penalty and his family behind him. Put your resources behind the families, and don’t be afraid to ask them what you can do to help.

Still from Fighting to Live, While Waiting to Die: Billie’s sister, Yvette, a lead of the Billie Allen campaign.

TS: I guess people do respond to calls for funding and support a certain way. People are so primed by mainstream charity organisations like BLM, which very quickly get co-opted and any genuine activist changes get neutered. I started using Twitter back in 2020, and I noticed how much people felt like they were making a difference just by sharing very traumatic ‘content’ online. People get used to a pattern of what they think it looks like to ‘do good’, but often out of a sense of guilt. I often think about how to harness those emotions for genuine change.

BMR: Totally — and it’s so crazy how videos of people dying get branded as content, as you hinted at.

I think COVID gave people the time to engage with these issues. Governments saw that movement, and were quick to control mass outrage. By putting us back into our normal circumstances, we’re so tired and traumatised to contribute to helping with these issues any more. I don’t know anyone who’s truly happy or thriving in their lives, because we had no time to grieve all that happened during COVID. I think that’s why online spaces have become even more divisive and full of vitriol — people come home from their days at work, and let their anger out in a space where they don’t actually think it’s hurting anyone.

TS: You mentioned the idea of suppressing awareness — that makes me think of Judas and the Black Messiah and Fred Hampton’s story. His assassination, it strikes me, was purely because of how aware the CIA were that the rainbow coalition was too dangerous an idea.

BMR: Absolutely. And these days, young people are so scared to speak up and take action because of the consequences that we see — like the jailing of the Just Stop Oil protestors. Three of them were jailed for five years each, in some cases essentially for having a Zoom call. I think it’s really important to consider seriously what’s happening there.

TS: And I think again that’s why your film is important. It’s not just about re-traumatising everyone — it’s about telling a story truthfully in a way people can engage.

Still from Fighting to Live, While Waiting to Die

BMR: We spoke to a streaming service about funding for the film, and they instantly asked, “What if he’s lying? Let’s explore that possibility”. We couldn’t take their money because that wasn’t the story we wanted to tell.

TS: Do you mean from a ‘true crime’ kind of angle? I’m sure you have a… lot of thoughts on how that big genre is these days.

BMR: How much time do have? [laughs] I don’t know if you came across that crazy story of a girl who found a rug buried in her back garden, from last weekend. CIS and so many other organisations got involved, it was a whole week-long story with people refusing to believe there wasn’t a body wrapped up there, even though there wasn’t. I guess people like the sense of control they get from thinking they’re experts and saying they know what they’d do and so on.

TS: Yeah, the ‘true crime girlie’ has become such a meme.

BMR: It’s just another way for us to disconnect people from their humanity. Like that new Netflix show Monsters — by title alone, you’re stripping humanity away instantly. A lot of formerly incarcerated people talk about how they don’t want to be talked about as ‘ex-con’ or ‘felon’, but putting their humanity first and using person-first language.

But in general though, people do like to be scared and have a thrill. The explosion of true crime is very strange — especially when there’s actually a higher awareness now of how incarcerated people get treated.

Still from Fighting to Live, While Waiting to Die

BMR: I guess it’s also about taking back ownership in some way, and getting a weird kind of healing through traumatic stories. I really don’t understand it though, beyond the detective aspect and getting enjoyment out of piecing together a puzzle. Women know we can’t go walking out at night, but we can stay at home and watch some true crime and work it out mentally. I’m sure there’s a bunch of articles and thoughtful studies out there about it.

TS: Yeah, the idea of getting people to play detective is good in terms of engaging people’s critical faculties, but it has such a cost too. It reminds me of the Johnny Depp-Amber Heard trial. A lot of very smart people I know felt like the very doctored information they were receiving from a televised trial was somehow legitimate, and encouraged them to come to both bad and misogynistic conclusions. 

BMR: That was just another big media event, wasn’t it. It’s like a TV show — and especially when it comes to celebrities, it’s all bets off. They’re not people, they’re just images we see on a screen. We think they won’t see or care about our opinions, but in that instance, it was a wider and really important conversation about abuse. Everything now is just something to watch and engage in, and throw your opinion at. I think there’s definitely a direct relationship between the growth of social media and how people engage with this stuff fundamentally.

TS: I think what your film shows is that there’s still a way to reclaim and share a genuine human story that’s in contravention of the new laws of social media. By way of closing, what can audience  members do if they watch your film, or read this article?

BMR: Reaching out to the campaign is the best thing — talking to Yvette and Bill’s campaign manager, and just asking what you can do to help. Right now it’s about raising awareness, and keeping Billie’s story in the media. People are so scared to talk about these things until it’s too late. If you see it on your feed, actually engage with it. It seems scary, but at the end of the day, at least we can say that we tried.  At the end of Just Mercy, Jamie Foxx as Walter himself says that he’s grateful because he got his truth back. And that’s what we want to do for Billie — giving him his voice to reclaim his narrative. Just remind yourself: these are all people, and engage just like you would with any person.

Thanks for reading this article. To find out more about Billie Allen, his campaign and how you can help, please visit Free Billie Allen.