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Regarding Motives in Creative Endeavors

It’s my hope that this doesn’t come across as a pretentious I’m-better-than-you sort of thing. It certainly isn’t a personal attack either. I’ve just had growing, strong, feelings about a “project” (I think I’ve decided that this is the best name for it) that I’ve continued hearing about and so this is my response to the issues that it has raised in my head. 

There is a group of people on campus working on a feature-length documentary entitled “Me and My Shadow” (not to be confused with the ambitious Dreamworks project) about two people handcuffed together who go on a road trip to pick up the key and unlock their handcuffs. The road trip takes them from Muncie, IN to Canada, where the key has been mailed. It sounds like an interesting concept, but I have some serious problems with multiple parts of their process, namely how much emphasis they are putting into marketing the film, and the suspicions I have regarding their motives in making this. I could be entirely wrong, and I certainly won’t spend the entirety of this post discussing issues I have with them; rather, I’m hoping that by providing some backstory their film will serve as a jumping-off point for the rest of my thoughts.

One of the first things that bothers me is the fact that they took an idea that they already had (they began talking about this online in September) and condensed it into a 7 minute “documentary short” for a 72 Hour Film Contest sponsored by the Emerging Media Living/Learning Community on campus. This contest required that entrants be from one of two dorms on campus, and that all content be conceptualized, written, filmed, and edited in the allotted 72 hour time frame. Not only did they start with a pre-conceived idea, their film—which won first place—broke one of the most prominent rules about the contest: 

“Film must include the three items designated. Items must also be integral to the film’s plot.”

This rule is in place in the hopes of deterring teams from using pre-established plots, characters, etc. in their films; however, even the judges overlooked this when awarding a film which broke several important rules first place. To make matters worse, the team of “Me and My Shadow” began to flaunt this “win” about their various social media outlets—except of course, their website, www.meandmyshadowfilm.com, which is referenced at the end of their first trailer, but doesn’t actually exist. Why they would display a URL for a domain that hasn’t even been registered is beyond me, but I guess when you are trying to saturate as much of the internet as you can with the same posts about your film, you might tend to forget to do a few things.

They used some very clever selective omission to make winning this “festival” as they refer to it (although it’s actually a contest, if you read any documentation about the actual event) seem like it was a school-wide achievement, proudly displaying a Sundance-esque badge—which they made themselves—on their fundraising website.

Fake Sundance Badge

But, never mind the fact that there were only fifteen entries to the contest, and forget the fact that they didn’t have permission to use Ball State’s name in any promotional context with the film, what really gets me upset is that they then used this win as a springboard to get onto not one, but two, local television stations, where newscasters introduced it as “an award-winning film,” which, while true, is blown so out of proportion that it is staggering. 

The thing is, that I can’t get this bad taste out of my mouth, a taste that says that they aren’t really committed to making a good film, and they don’t really care about the final project. I could be 100% incorrect, but the way that everyone involved in this project is behaving makes me feel as if they wanted a way to fund a road trip and become famous. I have yet to see the film, as they haven’t completed it yet, but they are spending so much time with publicizing this film, that I wonder how much better the finished product would be if they invested all of that time and energy into the film itself. One of their ads is a desperate plea for funding, and they seem to view money as an insurmountable obstacle to any creative endeavor.  At one point they state of the project:

This is the most ambitious project we could imagine for ourselves as collegestudents. We are two individuals driven towards making art, hoping to make our first foray into feature-length film.”

And then, only sentences later, they say:

“To be completely honest, we’re on a limited budget. We’re working students and cannot afford to make this film…We’re tenacious enough to make this project happen - we just need your contribution to get the ball rolling.”

These, to me, seem like totally contradicting thoughts. Someone who is “tenacious enough to make this project happen” and “driven towards making art” would not view money as an obstacle. They would do whatever it takes to make their film, and they would make it regardless of who did or didn’t support them. I will reserve judgment regarding the final film until I actually see it; if their first premiere is on campus, even if it costs money, I will attend it. But I think about their focus on publicity, on spreading the word, and I wonder where their hearts truly lie.

I’m learning something important about myself.

I’m learning that the commercial aspect of film—the focus on money, on pageviews, on box-office success, on catering to the masses—is something that I find disgusting. Disgusting.

That isn’t art.

That isn’t creative.

That is selling out.

Yes, I know that we need money to make things happen, that money is important to day-to-day life, and that there is certainly nothing wrong with commercialism. But a specific phrase they use in their fundraiser—”This film will live and die by word of mouth”—is something that makes me really uncomfortable. I think of people like Woody Allen, who don’t care at all about what reviewers say about his films, and continue making them regardless, or people like Ed Wood Jr., whose films are infamous for being terrible who continued creating regardless of critics said. That’s what’s important for artists. For creativity. To CREATE. Regardless.

To say that an artistic endeavor will “live and die” based on popularity shows a lack of drive. Individuals who are driven will accomplish whatever they set their mind to. Was Ed Wood Jr. a talented filmmaker? Were his films revolutionary? Were his films good? Yes, most of the answers to these questions are in the negative, but he was, without contention, an incredibly driven filmmaker. He, like Woody Allen, are not in “the business” to make money. To gain fame. They are in “the business” to express themselves in a way that no other medium of story-telling can. 

I don’t think that any self-proclaimed artist should be out to make money. Or achieve fame. An artist—be he a painter, filmmaker, writer—needs to create out of a passion to create. Yes, it is possible to make money doing what you love, but you shouldn’t do what you love with the sole intentions of generating money or fame. That narrow frame of mind will hinder creativity in a way that a budget never could. A great film, a film with heart, doesn’t rely on fancy equipment, the best-quality cameras, state-of-the-art special effects. A great film touches the viewer, evokes in them some feeling, some emotion, which is meaningful and then sticks with them.

I understand that there are many different branches of filmmaking. Industry, independent, experimental. And I get that not every filmmaker (or director) will (or should, for that matter) share my opinions. I am speaking based off of my journey. I am still learning. Learning about filmmaking, learning about story telling, learning about myself. Some people might be in this game to achieve fandom. I don’t like that. People should do things that enrich them. That fulfill them. An audience will see through all the smoke and mirrors, all the edits and lens flares, and judge the film based off of one facet: content. 

Many people seem to think that technical specifications of footage are a major contributor to audience reception of a film; after all, independent films are being directly compared with their multi-million dollar cousins, but I don’t think this is true. I don’t prescribe to the idea that audiences are dumb, that they’re fickle, that they need to be spoon-fed recycled plots and sequels. I think that there are educated audiences out there. People who appreciate cinema, and want to see something truly creative. What makes audiences coming back to films are memorable characters and interesting storylines, and having ulterior motives in creating some work of art will obscure the very things that are integral to the art itself.

I will never dumb-down anything for the audience. I am not making films for an audience, for commercial success, to become famous. Some people certainly are, and those people would probably have serious problems with aspects of my films. But I’m not creating for anyone else. It’s all me. My personal satisfaction. My creative vision.

If one’s motives for creating something are pure, than they needn’t worry about commercial success. All that matters is if you achieve what you want. If you can look at a piece of your work, and say to yourself, “This is the best work that I could have done. My artistic vision has been realized,” then nothing else should matter. For some people it doesn’t matter. Others need to get constant positive feedback in order to feel validated. Fulfillment should derive from the creation of the product, not the responses the product creates.

There are people who want to make movies, and there are people who need to make movies. 

LOVE,

BRENT

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“January” Production Diary #6

This is literally the first time I’ve opened my laptop since Friday night.

We were scheduled to begin filming Saturday, the 14th, but when the snow hit Muncie, and rain was in the forecast for today, we were concerned about continuity. After all, Indiana hasn’t looked very Winter-like for pretty much all of Winter. Seeing as our film is set in the month of January, we decided it’d be a good idea to get all outdoor filming out of the way this weekend. This bumped our shooting schedule up a day to Friday, because one of our actresses would be gone for all of the MLK weekend. (Thanks again Steph for being flexible with your departure so we could get the footage we needed!)

The only thing concerning me about our shoot outdoors—besides the fact that it was like 12 degrees and all of our feet went numb and we kept having to take breaks in order to warm up—was that we were starting with, arguably, the hardest scene (emotionally). I wasn’t super pumped with having to make Evan and Steph get to that place so quickly, especially considering that we only had around two hours of daylight to film in, but both of them did excellently with each take—even when people from surrounding doors were yelling out their windows at us things like “What are you doing?” and “Your movie sucks!”—and we were able to finish in time with some very powerful performances. Steph, especially, knocked this scene out of the park, bringing tears to the eyes of Dan (our cinematographer) and myself. Day 1 of shooting was phenomenal, and in a scene where the performances were paramount, I got exactly what I wanted.

A quick aside. The two pervading thoughts in my head regarding filmmaking and the filmmaking process as we continue to work on “January” are as follows:

I. In the making-of featurette of Black Swan, a woman working on the film remarks that she loves working with Darren Aronofsky because “he’s not just a director; he’s a filmmaker.” There is a difference between directors and filmmakers.

II. PBS’ American Masters documentary on Woody Allen depicts Allen commenting that when he gets the take he likes, he doesn’t want to do it over because it isn’t necessary. Be economical in your time when working on a film. If you know you like what you got, there’s no reason to do it again.


Day 2 of shooting started off to a late start. There was some confusion over where we were filming, and that, on top of forgetting equipment we needed, required us to begin filming about a half hour later then we needed to. A shopping trip for gear was made before this shoot, which contributed partially to the lateness. Although everything that was bought was necessary to the scenes we were shooting that day, I was a little unhappy that we spent $100 of our budget on the first trip, considering that 30% of it was on a step-stool, which we probably could’ve gotten cheaper or even borrowed. Unfortunately, hindsight is 20/20 in these sorts of situations, but cest la vie. It just means we’ll be smarter about our budget in the future. Shooting went quite well, if not a bit slowly, due to our cinematographer’s meticulousness in composing shots, and the freezing cold temperatures. The way that I prefer to work is at a break-neck pace, running and gunning through scenes, probably a result of most of my work being for things like the 48 Hour Film Project. This certainly does not gel with Dan’s methodical, triple-checking, asking-for-clarification process, but he gets results, so I suppose that’s what matters. The composition of one of the first scenes I am totally in love with. A super strong shot. 

We’re filming on two different cameras for this project. A Canon T3i (a DSLR camera, our primary choice, due to Dan’s familiarity with it) and a Canon XHA1 (which is recording all of our audio, in addition to some scenes—apparently it’s important for video cameras to have XLR input for microphones, unlike the T3i, which, while providing a “filmic” look, is built for still photography). 

Evan, who is playing the lead role of David, is incredibly committed. His conversational approach to the character is brimming with genuineness and he has a natural air of charisma about him. In addition to his portrayal, he let us dump water on him in fourteen degree weather and continued the take with no trace of uncomfortableness until he was off camera (when he sprinted to the warm car we had waiting to drive him back to his dorm to change). 

Day 3 of shooting was super slow. Basically, we filmed our two most complicated shots—one in which Evan writes on the lens of the camera and a shot where he gets onto an elevator and rides it up several flights, with the camera following him up. The first shot took a ton of planning and reworking, because we were initially filming outside and the sun was reflecting the camera into the glass. Then, we moved the shot inside, hoping to counteract the lighting issues. After cannibalizing the slider that we built, we were able to construct an apparatus to hold the glass in place in a sort-of frame. It took about two hours to get the entire shot done, mainly due to my stubbornness about doing the effect practically. After several more takes, I was confident that we’d have something to work with, and we moved on to the elevator scene. Graham, our Visual Effects guy, ran us through how to film it—we put duct tape track points on the wall, so that he could track it on the computer when adding the effects to make sure the motions match with the camera’s movements. The most aggravating thing about filming in the resident halls is that they are, believe it or not, resident halls. Apparently that means that people live in them. So many people stopped, or entered and saw everything and got spooked. We had to wait to get the take, and sometimes in the middle of the take people would come into the scene, and we’d have to restart.

Day 4. This day was a relatively short scene, but it still took a long time to shoot. We started 50 minutes late, and then it took two and a half hours to film, when I was hoping it’d only take an hour and a half. Even though it took much longer then I’d hoped, by the end of the shot, Dan and I were in a “groove.” We had met in the middle as far as the paces at which we both work, and so I’m confident that we’ll be able to move forward working quickly and efficiently. Although some of the past few days have been tense between us—because of my emphasis on using time effectively—I do value the fact that Dan puts time and effort into the composition of his shots. You don’t get awards like Best Cinematography, Best Original Screenplay, or Best Original Soundtrack without putting in time and effort. Yes, we’re doing this because the creative process is something which we all enjoy. But there needs to be a level of seriousness and commitment to the process in order to get a product that we are all proud of and that meets our artistic vision.  I’m reminded of a phrase from a statement we were required to sign when auditioning for plays or musicals back in high school: 

“I understand that being in a play is both fun and hard work.”

To me, that’s how it is with any artistic process, be it film, painting, writing, etc.

One of the strangest things about making this film is the questions onlookers seem to have. “What is this for?” “Why are you doing this?” These questions, especially, bother me, because it assumes that for every thing that anybody does, there has to be a purpose. Our short answer to these random passers-by was that it is for the Frog Baby Film Festival, but that wasn’t why this project was started—I was writing this screenplay before I found out about Frog Baby. Plus, we’re submitting it to other film festivals in addition to Frog Baby. The point, for me at least, is/was to make something real. To create. As a form of art. As a form of expression. One of the last memories I have of the Summer before I came to college was with my friend Eli. We were standing on top of a parking garage, and he said to me:

“I know that you aren’t going to major in film in college, but I think it’s important that you keep doing it. As an expression thing, ya know? ‘Cuz it’s important that people have a way to express themselves, and making movies is something you enjoy. You should keep doing this, even though you aren’t majoring in it.”

That’s what I intend on doing. That’s what I am doing.

LOVE,

BRENT