For me, the magic of making movies is thrilling, but often, “magic” implies something mysterious and unknown, which can be incredibly intimidating. Many like to glorify and even perpetuate the mystique of filmmaking, flaunting their knowledge of lights, cameras, and set lingo, all the while referencing scenes or shots from their favorite directors, which can create a sense of exclusivity and importance. Coming from a writing background, my passion is for stories and I see film (or video) simply as a medium to communicate these stories. I believe no matter what the medium is, it should always serve the story, not the other way around and while it’s important to master the craft, often, over-thinking every technicality can be overwhelming and actually, debilitating.

Last week, I had the privilege of spending some time on the set of a Steven Soderbergh film in NYC. As I watched an interior office scene being set up, with the actors sitting at a desk across from each other, the room seemed very sparse, with no equipment other than the camera. From where I was standing, I couldn’t see the fourth wall, where I imagined the lights must have been, and kept wondering when the lights would come on. Soderbergh has been doing his own cinematography for years, being credited as Peter Andrews (which is his father’s name), so of course, I was curious. Well, the lights never came on. That’s right – aside from the natural light from one window, a desk lamp in the background, and the light from the laptop computer on Jude Law’s face, there were NO LIGHTS. I spoke with the crew and they explained that Steven doesn’t worry too much about how the scene looks, what he cares most about is the drama…which depends heavily on the performance. Of course, certain aesthetics may be sacrificed, but at the end of the day, I guess he believes, as I certainly do, that people will forgive a less beautiful film with an absorbing story much more than they will a gorgeous film with a poorly told story or with nothing to say.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting we all emulate Soderbergh’s style, or make a guru out of anyone, but it was definitely eye-opening to see such an accomplished director with so much disdain for waste in this industry and focus so much on efficiency. Perhaps it’s one of the many reasons why he has been so prolific. With less available money to be thrown around these days, this is undoubtedly the future, particularly for those filmmakers who aren’t necessarily interested in making tent-pole movies. One of Steven’s philosophies is that every film dictates a certain budget, and it should be made for nothing more, nothing less.

Much of the advice I got that day on directing had nothing to do with how to make a cool film, or a beautiful film, or even about how to tell a story using a visual medium – all of that will come naturally with practice, I was told. The advice I got was all about making a film as efficiently as possible in order to give yourself the time and space to get the performances you want. I learned about “shoe leather shots” – shots that don’t matter, don’t need to be artistic, so get in and get out in order to spend more time on the heavy scenes. I learned about finding locations that are close to the “hero locations” (locations which are central to the story and are used a lot) and giving up the idea of every location being the perfect location and instead, using locations that are convenient for the schedule. I learned about not giving actors too much blocking that it distracts from their performance, and allowing them to define their own space. I got a number of other tips to keep in my back pocket, but I’ll stop here for now and just say that I realized how rare it is for directors to watch other directors’ processes. It certainly seems to me like invaluable education, but I was quickly put in my place and told…the only way to learn is by doing, and by doing, you’ll eventually find your own process.

Of all the things I learned on this set, the biggest lesson by far was in confidence. It’s easy to be impressed by a movie set and we often think of “more” as “better.” More money, more movie stars, more equipment, more takes. But in fact, “more” is a sign of a LACK of confidence. Uncertainty makes us want “more” to make sure we’re covered – I’m certainly guilty of this in my writing – overwriting because I’m not certain that I’ve made my point. To be able to come on set, knowing exactly what you want, getting in and getting out when you have exactly what you need, is the best way to avoid excess. Of course, this is a lofty goal that can only come with years of practice and experience, but it’s a commendable goal. It is truly a privilege to make movies…and anyone who gets to be a part of it should treat it that way.

It’s amazing to me that before this, the idea of shooting an interior scene, on a prestigious film with A-list actors, using no lights was not even in the realm of my reality. This just proves to me that this is an ever-evolving art form that we must constantly stay on top of to make sure we are always thinking outside the box, doing whatever it takes to let the technology and the look of the film serve the story and performances. And maybe we’ll see that making movies isn’t as much “magic,” as it is a process like anything else?

Then again, with all that being said, I have to admit that I am working with one of the most intuitive cinematographers in the world, who is known for making beautiful films and whose every frame wondrously oozes lust, love, danger, excitement…and on and on. But more on that another time…

PROCESS. Just accept it and learn to love it.

Yes, I am aware that the title of this entry sounds like the template title of several Apple movie-making software programs.  This was intentional, because the conversation about making movies, making art of any kind, should be rudimentary and accessible for everyone. This blog is my attempt to be as candid as possible about the “process,” my process…as a filmmaker, a writer, and sometimes, just as a human being in general. This is my attempt to get out of the sidelines, stop complaining and be part of the conversation.

Trying to get a movie made is a completely nerve-wracking experience. Someone once described the process to me as piecing together a puzzle on the surface of a body of water. Now I understand what they meant. The general consensus from independent filmmakers is that trying to make an independent film, particularly as a first-time director, in the current economic climate is nearly impossible. Since I have never tried to make a film in any other climate, I have no comparison and just have to accept this as a fact (The 90′s were much easier, they say). Except, I am making a movie…I think. I hope. No, I know! It’s happening, it’s almost here, we’re nearly there…just one last piece, we’ve almost got it! WE GOT IT! And then, within days, or even hours, everything can fall apart… Filmmaking is not for those with weak stomachs.

After nearly two years of this roller-coaster of emotions, I’ve finally succumb to the wise advice of so many others in the industry. REALIZE that no one is forcing you to be here, you have chosen it, ACCEPT that this is the process, and ENJOY IT. It has taken me quite some time, with several emotional breakdowns during that period, to get to this point. I recently told an accomplished producer of my struggles in getting my movie made, followed by the comment, “I guess every first-time filmmaker goes through this.” He laughed and said, “Every FILMMAKER goes through this. Brian Grazer goes through this!” And so, I’ve come to really embrace being part of this community of people who are here, willingly, because we all have the same goals: to tell the stories that we feel need to be told. To be a voice in the fabric of our society. Individually, we are each only one voice…but no matter what we do, it’s important to be heard, to engage in society, to be part of the community and part of the solution.

I saw a great documentary called “Let Fury Have the Hour,” at Tribeca Film Festival last week, that “investigates the role creative activism plays as an antidote to the reactionary global politics that have come to divide and separate communities worldwide.” One statement really stuck with me after the film about commitment, and that is, and I paraphrase, that to love is to commit to something we may never see, to stand in the tradition of a thing even if it doesn’t come to fruition in your time. We cannot control the result of our actions, we cannot control the world, only what we do…so even if we don’t reach all the goals we fight for, it has to be enough just to be part of the struggle and journey…part of the process. Please join me.

To welcome you to my new website, here’s a music video I directed earlier this year!