FIDGET - Neurodiversity & Dance: An interview with Keisha Tonte Njoku

First of all, please tell us a bit about yourself and your educational background. How did you become interested in cinema, and did you learn it through academic training or were you self-taught?

My name is Keisha Tonte Njoku, founder of Tonte Dance. I’m a dance artist and healing facilitator of Nigerian and Jamaican heritage, based in South East London. My practice focuses on Christian urban dance—freestyle, hip hop, and storytelling—used as a form of emotional healing and spiritual expression. I also run community workshops, mentor women through creative accountability, and create content that supports embodied faith building for healing and self-worth.

My journey into cinema came later. I started as a community dance practitioner, teaching urban styles for over 25 years whilst creating choreography and dance theatre work. I later gained a 1st class degree in Diverse Dance Styles at IRIE! Dance theatre, London as a mature student, when Covid interrupted my course, and saw the need to archive and share the process in a way that could live beyond the room. That’s when film came in and Fidget was born.

I completed a Master’s degree in Diasporic Dance Styles, which helped me further explore narrative filmmaking through the lens of practice-as-research, collaborating with film maker David Llewellyn for technical support and original music composition, which was very important because of my background as a musician (drummer) highlighting the importance music is in Christian healing practices.

But much of my visual language is shaped by my instincts as a dancer, my faith, and the stories I’ve lived, witnessed and drawn out from the dancers through carefully crafted freestyle methodology.

Before anything else, we'd like to know if FIDGET was made based on a precise script?

No, Fidget wasn’t scripted in a conventional sense. It was built through testimony, improvisation, and embodied listening. I asked the dancers to bring their real selves into the room—not characters—and we moved from that place. We used guided improvisation, scripture meditations, interviews, and moments of stillness as raw material. The first prompt I used was to ask them to choose a fidget toy and tell me why they chose it, the responses fed into the opening choreography. The movement, voiceovers, and editing continued to emerge from those lived encounters.

Where did the idea for FIDGET come from, and did you write any kind of screenplay alongside the research phases?

I met Lennie Varvarides, who heads up a neurodivergent led award winning arts studio DYSPLA along with Kazimir Bielecki. She was keen to add dance to their work and asked me to partner with them, we met, talked and I learnt a lot about this neurodivergent space.

In parallel to this I was also coming across quite a few very talented neurodivergent dancers on my degree course who were dropping out, partly because they did not feel understood, or stepping back because of fear of not being understood. As a community practitioner and teacher concerned about people's needs, this personally frustrated me.

I also had a close family member who was struggling with day to day life and just wanted to understand this better personally. Maybe in my own classes / workshops I could make a difference here? And inspire other teachers and myself to think differently.

So how would I learn more except to invite them into a safe space and learn from them directly. I was not able to collaborate directly with DYSPLA in the end, due to timing and funding restrictions, I and my team decided to continue the project on a budget and ran it anyway.

There was no traditional screenplay, but I documented the process —with video journals, recordings and reflections from the cast. I also worked with the dancers in phases, layering voice, movement, and meaning over time. The research shaped the form. 

Do you consider FIDGET an experimental film?

Yes. Fidget doesn’t follow a linear structure. It’s more like a big brother type situation, lets see what happens but make sure everyone is supported. Mental Health Wellbeing officer Athina Inneh from First Glimpse joined the team as active support for the dancers. We used a lot of freestyle, story telling sessions, honest conversations, and silence to speak to the lived experience of neurodivergence. The film invites you to slow down and feel. In that way, it breaks cinematic rhythm and prioritises emotional truth over plot. I’d say it’s an experimental dance film rooted in care and spirit. David Llewellyn of Dellauno Productions was instrumental in bringing my vision to life. This was my first film, and so the experiment was also in the collaboration, and it worked well. There was a lot of valuable learning and insights that took place which I continue to reflect on for future work. There was nothing perfect about it but that was also the beauty and fun of it.

What was the hardest part of making FIDGET?

The hardest part was honouring the emotional honesty of the process while navigating people’s vulnerabilities. Some dancers found it difficult to stay engaged or present during certain rehearsals because of the very themes we were exploring—overstimulation, masking, being misunderstood. It wasn’t always neat. There were doubts and disruptions. But that became part of the choreography. As Fidget dancer Callum Jaye shared:

“It wasn’t an easy process—it wasn’t straightforward. But what I learned from this experience was the beauty of just being... and perseverance. I understand how my brain works... It made me feel seen, valued, and part of something.”

That reflection alone made the struggle worth it.

Did you encounter any issues with any of the onscreen characters during production?

There were moments of emotional resistance and creative overwhelm, yes. But I wouldn’t call them “issues.”

One of the dancers had a moment when she was asked to change costumes, but due to her condition the texture of the fabric of the new costume would cause her to completely lose focus.

I see those moments as part of the work. When you ask people to show up as their full selves, not just performers, it can stir up real things—grief, insecurity, fatigue, even joy they weren’t ready for. My role was to make space for that, not rush it. The goal wasn’t performance—it was presence.

How much did you work with your actors on the choreography?

We co-created most of the movement. I gave spiritual prompts, gospel tracks, freestyle cues, and somatic tasks and also choreographed some sections. Each dancer had the freedom to respond in a way that felt authentic. For some, the choreography lived in stillness; for others, in footwork, sound or gesture. The movement came from within and then the original music was based on what the dancers were producing.

What do you think is the most important characteristic of your film?

Honesty. Fidget doesn’t try to impress. It tries to tell the truth. It holds space for imperfect movement, unspoken emotions, and deep listening. It’s a film that says, you don’t have to fix yourself to be worthy of being seen. That alone can be revolutionary even for the dancers in the group who were not neurodiverse, but spoke of other conditions such as sickle cell and chronic eczema.

That freedom—that sense of worth—is the core of the film.

What did the audience who watched the film think of it?

As Terry Baker shared after a live screening at Morphe Arts Make Good Event:

“You’ve clearly identified this whole group of people with labels like ADHD. Society—especially the NHS—is overwhelmed. They walk away. But you’re doing something strategic. What I saw tonight in Connor’s [Fidget dancer] expression was freedom. Self-worth. This is important.”

After speaking about the process behind Fidget at this event, one of the audience members, and Director Catherine Lemmon, who kindly volunteered to freestyle with me to understand my process, approached afterwards for a collaboration. Eden - The Choice (2024) was the result and more people and a new set of dancers reached with the message of hope for healing.

We also screened Fidget at, Exeter Dance International Film Festival (2023) and  Dancing Together Festival (2023) at Laban, London, where artist Adenech Walters said it was “phenomenal” and “beautiful” dance artist Sunniva said it made her feel “nostalgic”, she laughed and said it strangely reminded her of her own fidget habits.

If possible, please tell us about your next project.

My next project is titled Pause. At least that’s its current name. I like that name because it makes me feel calm. It’s a dance film that asks: What does it mean to reclaim your nervous system through movement? Using freestyle, urban styles, and spoken word, Pause explores  stories of rest, surrender, and pace. It’s informed by scripture, strives for healing, intense release and the slowing-down that many of us are now craving.

It is inspired by the research I have been doing as part of my Masters programme on using hip hop and freestyle movement as a form of embodied spiritual wisdom and storytelling and the importance of community healing from an Afro-Caribbean diasporic Christian faith based worldview.

Pause is about permission to stop, to be enough, and to heal through rhythm and dance. I think it answers the biggest need of the world today.