Planning and preparation are seemingly no match for completing an action, especially when it comes to filmmaking. That is why I cannot stress enough how important planning has become in my creative process, as whatever amount of planning I think I have accomplished, it is seemingly never enough. And that's okay. Wherever you are in your creative process, you cannot plan for every outcome. You can try, but you will always find an obstacle you had not planned for. The beauty of filmmaking is finding creative solutions in that split second that will help you to overcome the hurdle or remove the hurdle altogether.

In the previous post, I discussed my process for the preparations I take for my films, and in this post, I'd like to dive into the creative process that follows: the actual execution of the plans. This is the hardest part because, in my head, all the planning forms an image of the perfect set day and what that will look like, how we will overcome challenges and get the job done. But it never works out perfectly. So, let's dig in and find out how I handle these challenges and hopefully provide you insight to do the same.

Production

We don't make movies to make money, we make money to make more movies.
- Walt Disney

The planning is done, the preparations are in place, it's time to make the magic happen, at least that's what I always hope. It is always magical to be on set the first day, realizing what you hope to accomplish and the vision that comes out of it. That magic quickly fades into the grunt work of production, which in and of itself can be thrilling if not magical, but it rarely holds the luster most people dream of. For me, this is my favorite part. I always look at production as discovering the story again. I come with a plan, attempt to execute that plan flawlessly, but I always leave room for discovery, and I'm always surprised.

Freedom of expression

First of all, the actors, no matter who they are, will bring something new to the set you did not expect. Some directors will balk at this and attempt to mold the actors to their vision from the script. I tend to lean in the opposite direction and will lean into the actors' decisions, so long as they don't interfere with the overall message or story arc. This offers my actors a level of freedom not normally present, as I don't adhere 100% to the script and allow the actors to make decisions of actions, reactions, changes in dialogue, etc. depending on what feels most natural to them. Each actor will bring their interpretation of a character, and I find it thrilling to explore different iterations of what I wrote.

For instance, the character of the father in our short film Role Model was supposed to be significantly louder and more sarcastic and brash in the original script, but when Mark arrived for our read through, he brought a completely different take. His notion was of a softer, more gentle character with sarcastic and harsh undertones, but a much softer exterior. It was not at all what I had envisioned, but I remained silent and leaned into it, allowing Mark to have the freedom to express his emotions through the character naturally. What came out was an incredibly intimate exploration of the relationship between a son and father, both of whom had committed wrongs and both of whom needed to reconcile with themselves and each other instead of an antagonistic father and sympathetic son, as was originally perceived. This only occurred because of my allowance for Mark to interpret the character how he saw fit.

In the same film, our lead actor Christian was allowed to alter lines to make them sound more natural. In his monologue at the emotional climax of the film, Christian took several liberties to alter the script in a way that came out the most natural for him. While it was not written the way he expressed it, he accomplished the same goal the original monologue was trying to convey but was allowed to improvise to truly express what he felt needed to be expressed in that moment. The moment was incredibly visceral, I believe, mainly because of the freedom he had in that scene. We shot with two cameras, one on him and one on Mark, to keep the moment from both angles and make sure that we caught Mark's authentic reaction to Christian's improvisation, and the moment is incredibly powerful because of that.

View the film below and catch both our actor's excellent and organic performances.

Roll with the punches

Despite all the planning and preparation, something will inevitably not go the way I wanted. In Killer's Revenge, the rain threatened to shut us down indefinitely (it was the last day of our shoot), but we chose to seize the opportunity and film in the rain, even though it was not planned. We're glad we did, as it added so much to the film. In Adrift, the lines and personalities of the characters just never seemed to add up. We ended up changing so much that the film and the script are now two separate entities and almost two completely different stories altogether. And while Down went almost 98% as planned, we had unexpected delays, new shots not originally on the list, and safety concerns, but those are details for a later post. Suffice it to say that no project has gone 100% as planned, but if you roll with the punches and occasionally lean into them, you could discover something incredible.

Post-production

Editing feels almost like sculpting or a form of continuing the writing process.
- Syndey Pollack

Someone once said you write three stories when you make a film: one in the screenplay, one during filming, and one in the editing room. While some films go exactly as planned [insert uncontrollable laughter here], the film always must be written in the editing process. While others may edit their favorite scenes first and then move on, I tend to edit very linearly, finding my opening shot and moving along from there. I like to discover the film that I had been writing for so long as I go, surprising myself whenever I can by inserting a clip I didn't believe was necessary or by making a jump cut that I wasn't expecting but adds something to the film. Nothing exemplifies this more than our short film Adrift, but that's a rather long story for another time.

In our newest film Down, there is a twist toward the end of the film (no spoilers!) that, when edited together, didn't make as much coherent sense as I had envisioned in my head. It needed a few extra shots, extra shots that we did not get during production. Going back and reshooting would take at least a day to set up the frames, get the actors and crew back, and all for only two or three shots. It would have been a time-consuming and potentially expensive undertaking for what amounted to be roughly five seconds, and that was unacceptable. This challenge was one I wasn't going to miss on, and I poured through our footage to find anything that would work. I was able to pull shots previously used in the film stitched together in a new way as well as a singular shot where the camera happened to be rolling before I called action and just happened to capture the perfect shot I needed to emphasize the twist in the film. They were subtle tricks, but tricks that helped the film come together as a whole and communicate what needed to be communicated to the audience.

After the film reaches picture-lock (initial editing has been finished and no changes to the cuts of the film are expected), I send it off to be color graded, scored, and for VFX, if necessary. This is the part of the process I hate the most, mostly because it requires I wait on other people to do their job, send me samples, and have me give my opinions and directions on the samples they send. Most of the time, these out-sourced projects tend to come from people who do not live close to me, sometimes even not in the same state or region. Occasionally, I'll tackle one of these aspects myself to better my skills or because I simply have no other choice due to budget constraints, collaborator availability/scheduling conflicts, etc. After scoring our latest film Down myself out of necessity, I have a newfound respect for composers, such as our long-time collaborator Dillon Rairdin, composer extraordinaire, known for his work in Killer's Revenge, Adrift, and even way back to The Door.

Delivery/Reactions

I think one of the privileges of being a filmmaker is the opportunity to remain a kind of perpetual student.
- Edward Zwick

Once the film is finished, it's onto the delivery of the film. Most short films will see a festival circuit run, typically about a year, with the intent to woo investors, producers, etc. I never expect to make any money off of my short films, I see them as calling cards and learning experiences, nothing more. If they make money, that's great, but I make them because I love to make them, not because I want the awards or the money. The reason we make films is always important. If you're in it for the money, unless lightning strikes, you will be sorely disappointed while you make short films.

I've recently tried releasing films online first instead of a festival run as well, just to gain viewers and interactions. I have had mixed results, but with the ever-increasing digital age, this may be the best way for you to release your films as well, or at least factor the release online into your delivery plans.

Finally, audience reactions are everything. While I do not live for them, they are vital to know if you are achieving your goals or not, if you are communicating your message well enough or not. For instance, the film Killer's Revenge end (spoiler alert!) on a cliffhanger, leaving us unsure who shot who and if anyone even lived. The whole point of the film and how it was written was to get the viewer to ask that question as well as who even was the bad guy? Following its release, the only question I get about the film is just that: who was the bad guy? Who shot who? And if the audience is so concerned with answering those questions, seeing as how I posed them to the audience and expected them to ask, then I know I have succeeded. For our film Role Model, so many of our viewers were left touched by the story, and remain so to this day. They (hopefully) gloss over the technical errors in the film and realize the heart of the story. When they respond in kind to us about the emotional impact of the film, we know we've done our job to communicate the message well. If your audience leaves your film confused, wondering what they just saw, or laughing when they shouldn't, these are key indicators to you as a filmmaker that something needs to change, and it's your job to find out what. Once you know that, instead of taking the laughter to heart, you can change what needs to change in future edits or future films altogether. You will not please everyone, and you shouldn't aim to, but you should at least be communicating well, even if they don't agree with you.

Conclusion

No art passes our conscience in the way film does, and goes directly to our feelings, deep down into the dark rooms of our souls.
-Ingmar Bergman

Your creative process may look different than mine, but I hope that getting this glimpse into my creative process gives you ideas or encouragement in your pursuit of filmmaking. Every artist is different, and there is no one way to do this. Discover your voice, hone your process, and keep making art.

It’s Time to Create, Pt. 2