Possible Films

Why Am I Doing This?

I have been asked to say something anecdotal and – if possible – encouraging to you graduates of the program, specifically in regard to being an independent filmmaker. 

The most encouraging news about being an independent filmmaker is that no one is stopping you from doing it. Of course, depending on the type of film you want to make, you can’t expect lots of people to try and help you either. But I suspect its the same in any of the arts and, also, in business.

The life of an independent filmmaker has something in common with that of an entrepreneur. These are people who have chosen not to, necessarily, have the security of a steady job, but whose work is to have ideas and try to get others as excited as they are about the possibility of these ideas. The entrepreneur might say: look, if we raise enough capital to buy these beautiful materials, we can build these houses with a nice view of the hills, sell them later on, and make some money for ourselves. 

This is not unlike what a filmmaker sounds like when he or she says: if we raise capital to hire these beautiful actors and make this story about a boy, a girl, and their guns (or whatever) we might very well receive positive reviews and be accepted to film festivals, make our money back and maybe even a little more too. And, besides, we’ll be a little bit famous briefly.

The motivation is almost always this simple – to bring something into the world we want to exist.It might be, in our reckoning, Truth & Beauty (capitalized). Or maybe simply to make some money in a way that is more fun than working in a bank or being a construction worker. 

I see now that I wanted to say I make movies for both of these reasons at different times. But, thinking about it while I prepared this speech for you, I understand this is not accurate. In fact, I am always operating in both these ways – trying to make something beautiful and true and make a living. I am not against money. But it is true: when push comes to shove and I have to choose, I tend to choose the insecurity of my independence over the security of money.

Often, one cannot have both – money and independence. Comfort, security, and cash is often purchased by giving up one’s independence. And by independence I do not mean a style of filmmaking or even a manner of doing business. Although it is that, a little. What I mean is an independent mind which refuses to give up the responsibility of reaching it’s own conclusions; independence as the acceptance of the responsibility to think for oneself.

Personally, in one way or another, my entire body of work has been about this. So, it must be important to me even if I do not spend all my time thinking about it. If for no other reason, your filmmaking can be enlightening only because it reveals something about yourself while you’re dead set on illustrating nothing but something about the world around you. It can be how you find yourself in the world.

So, here is my anecdote: In January of 2004 I spent 12 days shooting my latest feature film here in New York. As usual, it was a small budget, we worked long hours and very intensely. There is nothing unusual about that. But those twelve days were also the coldest on record in New York City for something like a hundred years. 

I remember standing in a room with my head phones on, bundled up in my coat, watching the tv monitor and knowing that the scene we were working on was as good as anything I had ever done. As you can imagine, this is not a bad feeling. But, I also remember standing on a street corner later that day, with the crew freezing to death around me, and deciding not to do another take of a shot I knew I could do better under different – warmer – circumstances. The shot I made was adequate. But I had much more to shoot that day and the spirit of the crew – not to mention their health – demanded my attention as much as anything else. I acquiesced and I moved on.

I lived this way for those twelve days and – even more intensely – during the three months of editing, when anything that is not excellent can only be laid at one’s own feet. This is what makes a certain type of creative person seem grouchy and impatient. And I admit I am one of these people. But every once in a while merely adequate work can, by artful manipulation, become something a little more than adequate. You live to fight another day. And that’s enough sometimes for a day or two.

So, I finished this film and suddenly my assistant is asking me to look at a first cut of the “making of” documentary he has been editing on the side. I look at this footage and I’m amazed at the joy that is evident in me and my associates as we work in minus 10 degree weather. It is exactly like watching children play. We are completely outside our own adult ideas of ourselves. Spontaneous, unselfconscious, we are so consumed with what we are doing we can hardly talk like grown-up people – we sound like maniacs. Happy, busy maniacs.

How could I have forgotten this? I don’t know. But I always do.

It helps to be reminded of it because people do ask all the time: why do you do this? Not people who – rightfully – wouldn’t know any better, but people who really know what it is we do; professionals who have no illusions about the nature of film production and know it to be a lot more than the glamour most people, further afield, associate with it. They know the difference between wanting to be a filmmaker and wanting to make films; between the idea of a certain life-style attractively advertised in movie magazines and the reality of suffering to bring into existence something you believe in deeply, often in the face of indifference or outright hostility.

Most people choose not to expose themselves to this degree. And who can blame them? But others can’t seem to avoid it. Despite friendly advice, informed criticism, the desperate pleas of ones family and friends, some of us insist on the beauty and truth of our ideas, feelings, and actions. 

If you’re fired up enough to act upon what you feel, a certain amount of opposition is all one can count on. Of course, you are often understood, appreciated, and receive encouragement. That happens on occasion. But you cannot count on it. Opposition, you can count on. It’s not going to flatter you and let you live. So, make a friend of it. It will sharpen your wits and keep you asking: why am I doing this?