Dean Atta Talks Poetry, Animation and ‘Two Black Boys in Paradise’

Dean Atta is a London based writer whose work spans poetry, young adult fiction and film, with storytelling rooted in love, belonging and self acceptance.

Best known for acclaimed books including The Black Flamingo, Atta’s poem Two Black Boys in Paradise has recently been adapted into a stop motion short film by One6th Animation Studio, earning a BIFA nomination and qualifying for both BAFTA and the Oscars. Moving fluidly between page and screen, his work continues to centre Black queer tenderness while reaching audiences across generations.
Here, Atta reflects on the journey of bringing Two Black Boys in Paradise to life and the ideas that continue to shape his voice.

Please introduce yourself 
My name is Dean Atta, and I am a writer from London, of Greek Cypriot and Jamaican heritage. I’m a Scorpio.

Describe your life currently, in one word or a sentence.
Chaotic good.

Why are we here? 
I wrote a poem called Two Black Boys in Paradise, that One6th Animation Studio adapted into a stop-motion short film that was BIFA-nominated and is BAFTA- and Oscar-qualifying.

Tell us about whatTwo Black Boys in Paradise is about in your own words…
The poem and the film are about self-love and acceptance, as well as the joy and safety a loving relationship can provide. Paradise is a space that exists between our two main characters in the film, Doula and Eden, and, as a viewer, you get to witness and share in their paradise and imagine what paradise would be for you and who you might be there with.

Out of all your works, why did you choose this poem to bring to life?
Ben Jackson, our producer, really resonated with this poem. He was initially interested in adapting my young adult novel, The Black Flamingo, but we felt this poem lends itself better to a short film because even though it’s rich with imagery, it can happily fit into less than 10 minutes and leave the rest to your imagination.

This poem sits within a wider body of work that explores identity, love and belonging. How does this film connect to the conversations you have been building throughout your career as a Black queer storyteller?
Firstly thank you for this lovely question it’s only in the past year or two that I’ve started to think of my wider body of work and the idea of having a legacy and how my different pieces of work connect to one another I think the theme throughout all my work is that of love is that of belonging and acceptance particularly self-acceptance so many of my novels are coming of age stories and all of my books about love in various forms. A storyteller, I want to celebrate Black queer love and joy. I don’t want to shy away from the challenges, but I want to offer hope for a better future and occasionally a much-needed escape from reality. Paradise in our film is very much a fantasy world, but it’s a world, that even through the imagining, people can imagine themselves in; they might bring a little bit of paradise into their real lives.

Once you agreed to the adaptation, how did you approach the process of translating the poem for the screen. What felt essential to preserve?
It was essential that the poem would be the narration of the film. Some lines got cut because they were literally shown on screen. I was really involved in discussions around what the action of the story would be because there’s so much more going on visually than is in the poem and it was great to see the imaginations of our director Baz Sells, producer Ben Jackson along with our art director Räsänen bring so many layers and gorgeous elements to the film. Some of these stages happened out of order or parallel to one another, but we had a storyboard, a script, and an animatic – which is a moving storyboard, and all those processes helped get everyone ready to shoot the film once we had the funding, a crew, and the sets, props, and puppets.

Why was animation the medium of choice, and in particular Stop Motion and what were the steps of finding the right team to work with on it – production, Baz the director etc?
One6th – founded by Ben and Baz – is an animation studio and in particularly a stop motion animation studio so that was always going to be the medium I was attracted to. I’ve always thought stop motion was really cool, I grew up watching Wallace and Gromit and of course Pingu and Morph but I didn’t really realise until we had the art drawn up for the film how beautiful Baz and the team intended to make this film. I didn’t know stop-motion characters could look so alive.

With the set being handcrafted and the characters expressing vulnerability, love, pain and joy, the world relies heavily on sound and voice. As the writer of the poem and an executive producer, where did you place yourself in the process, both emotionally and from a business perspective, to protect the meaning of your words for the audience?
Being an executive producer made sense to me because I knew I had a lot to offer the team. I had a perspective that wasn’t represented by the director or the producer, as neither is Black, so I had to be involved in decision-making. That was something everyone agreed on from the beginning. I brought my lived experience and suggested Jordan Stephens, who is a friend, to narrate the film. I think having the creator of something in the room during an adaptation could be difficult for some, but with this film, it wasn’t essential for me to be onset during the filming because I don’t have any animation skills, and I felt I’d be in the way.
Plus, I live in London, and the filming happened in Manchester, but I was available on Zoom and via email. I was in the voice recording with Jordan at Abbey Road Studios, as the voice of my words felt particularly important for me to be present for. Baz directed Jordan’s performance, but I worked with Ben and Baz to create a briefing document for Jordan about how we wanted the narration to be.

Choosing Jordan Stephens as the narrator and Arun Blair-Mangat for the non-verbal sounds … why were those two the right people for the job, especially curious about how the non-verbal sounds were created / chosen?
Jordan, I felt his voice had a familiarity and warmth that was just right for this film. I wanted him to sound like a friend and ally to the boys. We said as much in our briefing document to him. Arun is a friend of Ben. Arun quite literally breathed life into the boys; the sound of Dula’s breath during the police search gives me chills every time I watch the film.

Who did you lean on during this process, personally or creatively?
I spoke a lot with my boyfriend and showed him clips of the animation whenever they were sent to me. He used to do stop-motion in his family garage as a child but he was encouraged by his parents to become a doctor which he is now, and I see the frustrated artist in him. So, he loved seeing this film’s journey. Being by my side at several screenings including our world premiere at Anima Festival in Brussels, UK premiere at BFI Flare and LA screening at HollyShorts at the Chinese Theatre in Hollywood.

What did you find most challenging?
As a working-class artist, the biggest challenge was the cost of travelling to film festivals. We didn’t budget for this and so anyone from the crew who wanted to attend a film festival had to pay for themselves. I can see why it’s hard for working-class people to break into film. I’ve already established myself as a children’s author, so as I have an income from book sales and school visits, I didn’t need film to provide an income for me immediately. But, if I had a regular 9-to-5 day job, it would have been hard to take time off to travel to festivals and to afford it. Sometimes I was able to double up and do events around my books and the film. As a freelancer, it was a challenge to make my regular schedule work. As things progressed and the film was programmed at more festivals and winning awards, keeping up with the demand for interviews has been a challenge. But I’m so grateful for all festivals that screened us and awarded us, and I’m grateful to any media outlet that has wanted to speak with us, because the reason we made it was for as many people as possible to see it and feel touched by it or maybe even changed through watching it. Feel less alone, feel the possibility of paradise for them.

What did you enjoy or connect with most easily?
I loved doing Q&A’s after the film screenings at festivals. I loved talking about the inspiration for the poem and the importance of the film to Black and queer people. I loved talking to people one to one afterwards in cinema lobbies and after parties and hearing what the film meant to them. Lots of people have reached out through social media to share what the film means to them, and I’ve even made new friends and industry contacts. People who have been to a screening or seen the film online now want to connect with me. I’m grateful to Baz and Ben for making this film because it has widened my community of Black and queer people. There is a whole new batch of people supporting and cheering for me who wouldn’t have known me without this film.

This project arrives during Men’s Mental Health Month. How do you feel the film speaks to the emotional lives of Black boys and men, especially the pressure to hold things in?
Coming back to our narrator Jordan Stephens, when we were recording his part at Abbey Road Studios, he paused the recording to discuss masculinity. Jordan asked all the men (and one woman) in the studio that day to say what masculinity meant to them. That was the moment I knew this film would be a useful tool for starting conversations between men. I’ve had many straight men talk to me about what this film meant to them. Particularly for Black men, the police stop and search, the anxiety of the interruption of our lives by white fear and suspicion, the hand that comes from the water and grabs the boys out of paradise. That possibility of being snatched up, stopped, or interrupted at any time in any place. I think that creates anxiety for many of us. Our lives are not our own. Our bodies are not our own. We’re not free not free to be vulnerable, we’re not free to talk about our emotions, we’re not free to walk down the street without people being fearful or suspicious of us. All that weighs on the hearts and minds of Black boys and men.

What does this film say about you and your journey thus far?
The film tells me I’m on the right path. I’m telling stories that matter to me through poetry, through children’s books, through film, and often I’m telling the same or similar stories across different media. The film has an official BBFC rating of 15, so I know it’s not for younger audiences, and that’s why I need to continue writing for children alongside the work I’m making for teens and adults. I still think Black queer stories are underrepresented across the board, but I know there’s a huge appetite for them, and I’m glad to have the opportunity to tell stories like these. That talented people such as Baz and Ben would dedicate five years of their lives to make a film from one of my poems shows that there’s power in my words, and I should keep writing, and the incredible reception we’ve had from audiences who have seen the film affirms that.

You have written across poetry, fiction and now animation. What has this project taught you about how your voice moves between different forms?
My voice is true and authentic; it comes from a place of love and pain and perseverance, and the messages of this film, of belonging and self-acceptance, run through everything I write. I think that’s why people who are not Black or queer can connect with my work, because we all want to belong, we all want to be accepted, and we are all trying to learn to accept and love ourselves, of course.

What moment in your career helped you realise the importance of telling stories rooted in tenderness, honesty and self-acceptance?
It was very early on, when I was a teenager, I wrote and performed a poem called Fatherless Nation, about my dad not being around and learning to accept that he wasn’t going to be the father I wanted him to be and not let it define the man I would become. People would come up to me after my performances talking about their relationships with their fathers who were absent, who had died, who they had difficulties with or were estranged from. Being honest in my writing allowed or facilitated an outpouring of honesty from my audience. I think that’s what I still see in my writing today, decades later, and the tenderness and honesty we gave to this film is the tenderness and honesty we’ve received from audiences. Of course, I won’t meet everyone who reads my books or watches this film, but those I have met I can see, and they tell me how moved they are by the work, and I don’t take that for granted; it’s a huge responsibility, but one I bear gladly.

Do you have a favourite line from your poem and how it was visualised in Two Black Boys …?
“There are no white people in this paradise.” This line is visualised simply by the boys returning to paradise, where they are the only two people there; it’s their paradise, and they make the rules. This is all I mean by the line, that we can have autonomy over our lives and our bodies, the freedom to be ourselves without society’s expectations or judgments. They are free from white supremacy. This is a fantasy of course, but I think an animation is the perfect medium for exploring fantasies because the audience is already suspending so much disbelief by believing these puppets are alive, and for the 9 minutes of the film they are alive and they go on living in our hearts and minds after the credits roll, and so does the fantasy of the story.

GETTING TO KNOW YOU …

If not this, then what? An English teacher.

What are you watching? The War Between the Land and the Sea starring Russell Tovey and Gugu Mbatha-Raw.

What are you reading? Glasgow Boys by Magaret McDonald.

The last film you watched? Pillion directed by Harry Lighton. I watched it three times to prepare to chair a Q&A with Harry at The Arzner Cinema.

The last play you saw? Period Parrrty by Gayathiri Kamalakanthan at Soho Theatre.

The last live music event you attended? Simon Seales at Cowdray Hall in Aberdeen as part of the Aberdeen Queer Arts Festival.

What’s currently on your music playlist? The Art of Loving by Olivia Dean.

Which song are you listening to on repeat at the moment? Nice to Each Other by Olivia Dean.

Which podcast(s) are you currently listening to? Our Black Gay Diaspora, The Meaning of Men, and Busy Being Black with Joshua Rivers.

What’s on your bucket list? When I think of a bucket list, I think of travel, so I guess travelling to Australia and New Zealand. And Japan.

Where’s your happy place? On the sofa at home with my partner, watching a film or show on our projector.

Celebrate someone else? I’d like to celebrate Joy Gharoro-Akpojotor for her film Dreamers. Joy adds to the canon of Black queer cinema a bold and beautiful story of resilience and love in the face of neglect and rejection. Many migrants to the UK will see themselves in this story, and it goes a long way to humanising the new headlines we hear about asylum seekers. More than that, it is a beautiful testament to the power of romantic love and friendship to see us through the most challenging of times.

Celebrate yourself? I’m proud of myself for attracting good people who want to work with me. I’m proud of myself as a collaborator and ambassador for this film. I’m proud of myself as a role model and mentor to those coming up.

What’s next? Auntie’s Bangles, my second picture book with illustrator Alea Marley, is coming out on 15th January 2026. And my debut adult novel, Big Man, will be published in the autumn of 2026.

Where can we find you? (Social handles) I’m on Instagram, Threads, Facebook, and TikTok.
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Where can we see or hear your work? My books and audiobooks for children and adults are available in all the usual places. Visit my website www.deanatta.com to find out more about my books. Two Black Boys in Paradise is available to stream right now on Channel 4 in the UK and Ireland.