Documentary about a Wichita performer with Down syndrome is a shot of pure joy
‘My Name is Annabel’ will stream on pbs.org beginning June 17.
Editor's Note: The following review by SHOUT editor Emily Christensen was first published in the Kansas Reflector in 2023, when the documentary about Wichita performer Annabel Hernandez screened in Wichita and Lawrence. We’re republishing it now because “My Name is Annabel” is part of the new season of Latino Public Broadcasting’s “Voces” short film series. It will premiere June 17 on pbs.org.
Strings of lights twinkle above a shoulder-to-shoulder crowd at Barleycorn’s, a bar in Wichita’s Old Town district. The audience has gathered to celebrate the release of a new single, and the room thrums with restless anticipation.
This isn’t just any bar show. For starters, there’s a documentary film crew on hand. The sequence they’re filming is the culmination of “My Name is Annabel,” a 20-minute documentary about Annabel Hernandez, a 30-year-old Wichita performer with Down syndrome.

“My Name Is Annabel” is a portrait of one woman living with a disability, a status she shares with more than a quarter of her fellow Kansans. But despite their large numbers, disabled people are rarely portrayed on screen.
Given this massive deficit in visibility, you might be forgiven if you’re surprised by the dynamism of Hernandez’ life. She is adored by her family, the owners of Paleteria La Reyna, where she works part time. In fact, the restaurant is named for her childhood nickname, Reyna, the Spanish word for queen.

Hernandez is also a seasoned member of Laughing Feet Performers, a Wichita theater troupe that combines special-needs performers with their typical peers. And Hernandez is not only passionate about music and acting — she’s also hugely charismatic. With her on screen, the film’s 20-minute runtime flies by.
“The vibrancy and diversity of people with intellectual disabilities doesn’t get to be seen,” producer Amity Hoffman said. “And when they are, they’re still not in control of their story.”
At the beginning of the film, Hernandez is asked what kind of movie she might want to make.
“I was thinking: all my family and friends. And music, too,” she says.

It’s an accurate summary of “My Name is Annabel.” Part of the film follows a traditional slice-of-life format: Hernandez goes to work, to her day program, to auditions. In other scenes, she interviews her friends and family, who sometimes turn the questions back on her.

Hernandez drove every aspect of the film, said Hoffman, who is herself a native Kansan.
“We weren’t really clear what shape it was going to take from the beginning,” she said. “We ran everything past (Annabel) in Zoom meetings before filming started.”
That’s how they learned that Hernandez has long wanted to star in a movie about herself, and that she had already been interviewing her friends and family. They also worked out the final scene together: Producer Lauren Coleman co-wrote a song with Hernandez, who was tutored before the performance by DJ Carbon, a stalwart of the Wichita entertainment scene.

The seed for “My Name is Annabel” began with Hoffman’s first documentary, “The Best Show in Town,” about a Florida troupe of actors with disabilities.
“It’s the best theater as far as I’m concerned,” she said. “My first love is theater, but I had kind of fallen out of love with it. And then I saw these actors perform, and I just wanted everyone to know about it.”
She teamed up with director Ida Jogler (“Kili Big”) and Coleman (“How to Throw Your Own Goodbye Party”) after the three women met at a film festival. Their intention is to make a feature-length documentary that follows four members of Wichita’s Laughing Feet Performers. “My Name is Annabel” serves as a proof of concept for the eventual longer production they want to bring into the world.

Audiences who are unable to catch “My Name is Annabel” at festivals or special screenings will eventually be able to view it through Latino Public Broadcasting, the film’s primary funder.
But the filmmakers deserve the opportunity to extend their vision for another 75 minutes or so. And audiences need to see more stories like this one. There are so many others to tell.

The filmmakers celebrated with Hernandez at the Tallgrass Film festival this weekend. This was the first public screening Annabel and her family were able to attend.
“I want her to have that moment, and I want her friends to have that moment,” Hoffman said.
Emily Christensen is one of the co-founders of The SHOUT. She is a past fellow of the National Critics Institute at the Eugene O'Neill Theater Center and a recipient of an Arts Writing Grant from The Andy Warhol Foundation. Send her a message: emily@shoutwichita.com.
❋ Derby man has the kind of voice that turns heads — and chairs
❋ Socializing while sober: how some Wichitans are cultivating alcohol-free communities
❋ As a small creative business closes, the owner mourns
❋ Painting through it: Autumn Noire on 20 years of making art
❋ How a guy from Wichita resurrected 'Dawn of the Dead'
❋ Bygone Friends University museum housed curious collections
Support Kansas arts writing
The SHOUT is a Wichita-based independent newsroom focused on artists living and working in Kansas. We're partly supported by the generosity of our readers, and every dollar we receive goes directly into the pocket of a contributing writer, editor, or photographer. Click here to support our work with a tax-deductible donation.