What I've Learned (so far) Trying to Make a Feature Film

Making a feature film is hard. Very hard. It rarely, if ever, dawned on me how good I had it as an actor. If I was fortunate enough to book a role, my job was to simply to show, hit my mark, and punch a clock.

Acting as a producer feels a little more like tugging a cruise ship with a dinghy. Resources are scarce, the waters choppy, and land rarely in sight.

Despite a challenging landscape, my team and I have forged a special bond; the kind of character and grit that's fostered only when adversity comes knocking. 

As we move forward with our shoot date here are some of the ways we've been able to gel as a team, and a few strategies we've agreed are important for our future success.  

Agreeing on the Mission

We discovered how important it is for everyone to be on the same page when it comes to WHY we're making a film in the first place. Our "why" will act as our north star when we feel unanchored or lose sight of the goal at hand.

The why needs to be personal, founded on intrinsic rewards, and bigger than just one person.

Focusing on ONLY the Essential

One of the tricky parts of making an ultra-low budget film is the lack of resources. Everyone on the production team is forced to wear many different hats. 

Still, we recognize the importance of knowing our exact duties, and subsequently gain a clearer sense of what we don't need to be doing. 

Having a clearly defined goal allows us to put all our energy and resources into making our ONE thing happen.

Getting Good at Saying, "No"

I've yet to meet a golden retriever I didn't like or a person that enjoys disappointing others. But the ability to say no (politely) is crucial in reaching any meaningful endeavor. Today, we have to go to war against distraction. Its arsenal is vast, its methods assorted. If it's not a text it's a ping, post, or poke.

As a result, we've implemented a policy that says if you're asked to complete a task not congruent to what you need to be doing, you can and should say, "no." The individual whose job it is will simply have to find a way to delegate the task or get it done on their own.

We need to get equally comfortably saying, "I don't know," as we do saying, "No." Each have become stigmatized when in actuality require tremendous courage.

In the end, people end up respecting the boundaries you set-up and start spreading the memo your time is valuable and your goals a priority. 

Radical Transparency and Honesty

We've all agreed holding each other to a high standard is crucial. We can be thoughtful but still preach honesty.

For example, it's been my job to get the LLC taken care of for our feature film for the past 3 weeks. For one reason or another this still hasn't happened. To put it plainly, I have failed to execute my responsibilities.

We are trying to cultivate an environment where any team member would feel both comfortable and within his or her rights to pose the question, "Why hasn't this been completed yet? What obstacles are standing in your way? And do you need support to make sure you reach your deadline?"

Personal accountability dwarfs all, but having a group of like-minded people willing to hold your feet to the far is indispensable. 

Setting Deadlines

Putting a date on a goal has a remarkable affect on production. When someone knows they have to get something done by a particular day they will move mountains to make it happen. Remember the science fair? Conversely, if there's no timeline, projects will collect dust and start to drift aimlessly.

Together, we plan on setting deadlines for each of our tasks and sharing them with the group on Trello so our objectives and time frame are transparent to all.

Keep Asking, "What's the ONE thing I should be working on to move this goal forward?"

Our head of social media has managed to gain over 2,000 followers on Twitter in just under a month. 

How?

Delilah's sole objective was to build our presence on social media. 

That's it. 

By concentrating on that and that alone, she has built an engaged audience who now feel emotionally invested in seeing our story told.  

Putting all our resources and energy into getting the ONE thing done also strips away distraction, and ensures we make significant progress in the arena that counts rather than meager gains in the ones that don't.

No Hierarchy 

Each person's role is important, every voice matters, and spirited debate is always welcome. None of us claim to have all the answers and have found the joy of stumbling through this odyssey together.

What's important is that everyone feels comfortable speaking up when a problem arises and that their work is equally challenging as it is engaging.

Finally, we make sure our idealism is fiercely protected but also grounded. Executing a dream without a concrete plan isn't bold, it's dangerous. 

As we get closer to making our film a reality we're sure to make many mistakes and likely won't see eye-to-eye on every matter, but we've created a culture that will not only sustain those setbacks, but reshape them into lessons we can leverage. 

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Don't Do Too Much

There's a famous story about the day Jack Lemmon received a master class in acting for the camera by director Billy Wilder. The two were on the set for the classic film, Some Like it Hot starring Marilyn Monroe. At this point, Jack Lemmon had done a considerable amount of theater and television but was still relatively new to the world of feature films.

As the story goes Lemmon was in the middle of a scene when Wilder stopped him. "Less Jack. Less," he said. Lemmon supposedly took the note and resumed the scene. A few minutes go by and Lemmon feels like he's really cooking when once again he's stopped by the Academy Award winning director. "Less Jack. Less." Lemmon scratched his head, took the note again, and continued to plow along. The scene goes on for a while before Wilder stops him for a third time, "Less Jack. Less." At this point Lemmon's had it and screams, "Billy, if I do any less I'll be doing nothing." Wilder supposedly smiled before saying, "Exactly."

Too often we feel we're not enough when the truth is we're infinitely interesting. The key whether on stage or off is to trust we have a voice and something of value to offer without overcompensating for what we mistake to be deficiencies. 

You've Already Made It: Lessons from the Movie, "Swingers"

There's a part in the film Swingers where Ron Livingston's character, Rob, tries to cheer up his friend Mikey, played by Jon Favreau. Mikey sits in his apartment with the blinds drawn and has quite literally not not the seen the light of day for quite some time. 

When Rob all but forces himself up to Mikey's place to check on his friend we find him unshaven with his hair disheveled and distraught over the break-up of his girlfriend back in New York 6 months earlier.

"That's your problem," Rob says. "You don't look at the things you have. You only look at the stuff you don't have. Look out the window. It's sunny every day here. It's like manifest destiny. Don't tell me we didn't make it. We made it! We are here. And everything that is past is prologue to this."

How often have you failed to see how you've already made it? The truth is, if you're pursuing something you love and getting fulfillment out of your work you are living a profoundly rare and fortunate existence.

It took me years to to discover the real superstars in my own life were friends with full-time jobs who still found time to sing, write, act, or play. I marveled at how they’d babysit, teach, or wait tables just so they could pursue something they loved. They taught me to recognize the accomplishments I had overlooked but more importantly to take a little inventory of all that I already had.

They were my "Rob's." They made me realize I was already living the dream.

Lessons from My Kid Brother

The age difference between my youngest brother and I is nearly 14 years. He is the self-proclaimed, "family blessing." And though the gap in years meant I missed much of his childhood while away at college and grad school, I have a lot of fond memories of his youth of youths. 

The other day I phoned him to ask how everything was going. "Hey bro, just got a new surf board!" he told me. Just a few weeks before I came home to visit my family only to find he'd made my father's office into a makeshift "studio." My parents were of course out of town.

It's said that happiness has two peaks. People are filled with the most joy during their 20s and 10 years after retirement. I'm not entirely clear on what the correlation between the two phases of our lives are, but I'm gathering it has to do with a more effortless type of optimism. 

I've taken away some profound lessons from the "little guy," who now towers above me. The most important being his enthusiasm and resilience. He beams when discussing the future, a new relationship, a concert, a film he saw, or all the places he hopes to someday see. 

And like the rest of us, he's prone to getting bummed out from time to time, but when he's down he isn't there for long. He bounces back with an enviable buoyancy that seems to say, "My time is limited, I'm not going to waste it brooding."

I wonder how and why we lose that sensibility and whether it's possible to keep a small piece of that. Maybe it means hanging around younger people. Perhaps it just means cultivating a younger person spirit. Whatever the answer, I think it's important to appreciate we can learn a lot from people who haven't lived as long, or experienced the same setbacks. 

At the very least, they may remind you of how you once embraced possibility, felt unbridled enthusiasm, and remind you of the importance of courting life like a partner -- there may be fireworks at first but gradually the relationship evolves over time. 

But if you work at it each day love will remain as the foundation.

Know Why, then Figure out How

This afternoon I met up with a fellow actor. We talked about her one-person show and how excited she was to see something she worked hard to develop finally come to pass. She told me friends told her for years to write a one-woman show but that it just didn't seem right until now. "I didn't feel the need to write something just to be seen."

Her comment resonated with me. I too had worked for many months on a one-man show, chronicling the transition in my life. I suppose I started writing because I felt the need to cling to an identity I had know for so long.

When I met up with an old teacher of mine whose opinion I valued he said, "I'm happy to offer my feedback, but my first question is, do you need to tell this story?" I remember sort of shuffling my feet and staring at hands before admitting I didn't.

It's important that we find creative ways to get our voice out into the world and take advantage of the countless platforms now available for us to do so. But it won't really mean anything if we don't know why we're doing what we're doing. Getting a play, or a film made is so challenging that if you don't have a deep enough "why," it's likely you'll tire quick and hang it up. Your heart somehow knows when it's being duped.

Know why, then figure out how.

It's Hard But It's Worth It

This morning I spoke to a close friend of mine back in New York. She was very stressed out about all the things she had to do before staging her play this summer. "I need to find someone to do the lighting, the right actors, and of course, I have to raise all this money so I can pay everyone. I'm really worried," she told me.

"Calm down," I said. "You're exactly where you're supposed to be. Everyone that puts on a play, or shoots a film wrestles with the same issues. That's one of the reasons why it's such an extraordinary accomplishment once you get it done."

She agreed and after a few minutes took comfort in the knowing she was in good company. "I'd be more worried if there were no hiccups," I added. She laughed. 

What we do is meaningful and if done well can forever change the way we think, feel, and interact. It is for those exact same reasons that it is so difficult to pull off.

But the ones who push through that adversity have a special opportunity to share their voice, while bringing people together. 

It's hard but it's worth it. Go forth. 

You're a Firefighter

There are only handful of guarantees in life. Perhaps the most prominent being that virtually nothing goes according to plan. Starting a business, writing a book, or making a film for example are such extraordinarily difficult endeavors there's almost no way it possibly could go exactly the way you'd want it to.

We've all received a phone call out of the blue with discouraging news, searched longer that we'd hoped to find a job, or been blindsided by someone's desire to no longer be with us in a relationship, professional or personal.

In other words, you're always going to be putting out fires; unexpected hurdles on your journey to living a fulfilling career and life.

Once you accept your perennial role as a firefighter it's actually quite liberating. You understand that life requires you to pivot, be on your toes, and think flexibly. Once you understand this you're less likely to become discouraged or thrown off at the next curve ball thrown your way because you've conditioned yourself to adjust.

Strap on your helmet and handle adversity with poise. It's just another reliable step to getting to where you want to be.

Think Like Toni Erdmann

Last night I saw a terrific movie called, Toni Erdmann. I thought the film was actually quite profound making me consider the “bigger picture,” without hand-feeding me a message; a true testament of excellent writing.

Strangely enough, I found myself losing that perspective almost instantly when I returned home. My furniture was everywhere because of renovations and I thought for a moment I'd overlooked my flight schedule.

I wondered how everything could be going swimmingly one minute and than be in complete disarray another. How much of it was self-imposed, I later thought to myself.

I suppose the lesson was to know that life can change on a dime and we have to have the flexibility to think flexibly when it does. 

As a result, we’re more likely to keep our poise and think clearly. At least that’s how I think Toni Erdmann might approach it.

Be Kind, but Claim Your Space

I once heard an actor describe working with Hugh Jackman as a perfect example of maintaining on-set balance. His castmate explained how the film and theater star was always thoughtful, kind, and considerate to everyone on set but also had the courage to claim his space. 

In other words, he was polite while still cultivating an environment for himself where he could thrive and best serve the story. 

There's a "sweet spot" in being generous while also being clear about when you just need a moment to yourself. 

You can be nice without being soft. 

More Compelling than You Believe

When discussing his approach to performing on stage, I once heard William H. Macy say, "If you don't know what to do, don't do anything." 

During an acting on-camera workshop with one of the most reputable teachers in the city, actors were asked to perform a scene in which a character was doing nothing more than delivering a pizza.

Actor after actor held the box in almost comically unconventional ways. Finally, he stopped and asked, "Guys! How do you normally hold a box of pizza?!" 

As actors we often feel the need to seem "interesting," or to do stuff that makes us more compelling.

The masters like Michael Caine and Peter O'Toole were riveting to watch on film because they trusted the life they brought to a role would enrich their performance. If you watch them closely they often seem to be doing very little at all; revealing so much with just their eyes, or a gesture. They never felt the need to do too much.

You too are far more compelling than you think. Trust what you bring.

Start Before You're Ready

There's a great interview with actor turned screenwriter, Taylor Sheridan on YouTube. Sheridan recently brought to life the critically acclaimed stories, Sicario and more recently, Hell or High Water.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QeySPEcoq4Q

During the interview Sheridan admits he knew nothing about writing a film. Perhaps equally important, he knew how not to.

“I have absolutely no idea how to do this but I know exactly how not to…tell the story I want to tell, be honest…I write movies I want to see about things that interest me," he concluded. 

Not only is it crucial to know the pitfalls of creating something meaningful, but I also gathered from Sheridan's words that it's also okay to start before you feel ready. 

You don't have to have it all together to do something remarkable. Just begin.

Be Part of Something Where It Matters if You Show Up

One of the biggest challenges of being an artist is the solitude. Unless you're consistently working in a collaborative capacity -- rehearsing a play, shooting a film, or showing work in an exhibition there is A LOT of time spent alone.

And it's when we're alone when we find ourselves battling the voices that nudge us to consider more conventional paths or question the meaning of our creative contributions.

What we need is no different from what anybody else yearns for - to be part of a community of like-minded people where we feel we're making an impact. 

Whatever your medium it may help to find a place through volunteer service, or community outreach work where it really does matters if you show up or not; a place where people are counting on you to deliver value and share what you know.

This will do wonders for your morale and likely support your artistry in unexpected ways.

Protect Your Spirit at All Costs

As you progress through your career you will likely come to a crossroads. You may suddenly struggle to find the meaning of your work, or redefine your relationship to it, and discover even your values and what you want have changed. None of theses are bad things by the way. In fact, it's often a sign of growth.

But in the midst of transition can come a sense of a weariness, even apathy. Uncertainty can influence us in funny ways.

But whatever road you decide to take or career you may pivot away from, make sure you protect your spirit at all costs. Approach any new endeavor with the same eagerness and conviction you once had when first starting out. Remember the first time you stepped on stage, shot a film, or dotted the final "i" of your screenplay.

There's no telling exactly where this fervor will lead but chances are it will be good a place.

By All Means, Carry On

You will come across challenges at virtually every stage of creation:

- writer's block
- criticism from trusted colleagues or friends on your work
- getting someone to read your work in the first place
- raising the funds to see your film, play, or production come to life
- distribution
- finding a like-minded group of artists who share and believe in your vision

Because it is all so difficult, it is imperative you feel the work is personally meaningful and that by sharing it, you can make an impact in some small way.

Allow a deeply personal sense of purpose to be your compass. Remind yourself why you wanted to create in the first place.

Both will prove as helpful resources to draw from during those moments of adversity and doubt.

But by all means, carry on.

Crowded Theaters

I love crowded theaters. The other day I went to see a film on a rainy and cold afternoon. I thought for sure the inclement weather would discourage moviegoers.

When I arrived at the theater I was pleasantly surprised to discover scores of people waiting for the same film I planned to see. There wasn't an empty seat in the house and by the film's conclusion nobody wanted to leave. "They can't end it that way," I heard a gentlemen whisper a few rows behind me.

Crowded theaters are a reminder that storytelling still matters. It's the fabric of the human condition that weaves us all together. 

Keep listening, telling, and making them. Our sense of community depends on it.

You Can't Force People to Care

Yesterday afternoon, I had the chance to work with some very talented actors currently performing in, The Last Tiger in Haiti, a production nearing its run at Berkeley Rep.

The actors had all agreed to participate in a reading of my screenplay. I was less concerned about casting the right people for the roles than I was just having terrific actors play with the words I'd spend the past several months putting together.

After the reading, the six of us engaged in a spirited dialogue about what it means to be an actor. We talked about the lifestyle, the struggle, and the rewards. Each of us agreed the story I was trying to bring to life was important, relevant, and needed to told. But they also voiced their frustrations with getting people to care about storytelling in general - to get people to appreciate how stories shape our culture and identity.

What I learned during our conversation was nobody can force you to care about anything. Whether it's a compelling film or animal rights, each of is wired in different ways. As a result, we all have unique desires, hopes, questions, concerns, and passions. 

What you can do is present YOUR interpretation of the world through anecdotes, stories, or facts and then allow people to make up their own minds on how they feel about it. 

I suppose what people ultimately think is less important than making the effort to create something in the first place.

Support Storytellers

Every once in a while a film comes out that we're all told we must see. As people, we have an innate drive to conform to our societies to ensure we don't ostracize ourselves. In fact, our survival once hinged on our ability to adapt to our communities.

Whether or not telling moviegoers they must see this film is rooted in a fear of missing out, some stories are broader in scope. They are there to remind us we are human and that we're all connected through the human condition. More importantly, stories tell us we're not alone in our fears, ambitions, and feelings. I believe we go to the theater to see a piece of ourselves.

Last night, I strolled past an old movie theater preparing for its 100 year anniversary. It was the same theater my father once took me to see,  Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

On this particular evening the bright marquee read, Moonlight. Moonlight is a coming-of-age story dealing with the dysfunctional home life of a young man during the "War on Drugs" in 1980s Miami. As of late, the film has been much lauded receiving a great deal of critical acclaim. And rightfully so in my book.

Yet, what struck me even more than the film was something one if its stars said during a Q & A. Janelle Monae, who is known more for her achievements as a recording artist, makes her Hollywood debut in a beautifully authentic and earnest performance. She reminded me that storytellers have the capacity to do remarkable things. Even if we don't realize it.

"I know and I hope and pray that some young boy struggling with his sexual identity, or some girl struggling with her sexual identity, will watch it — and maybe when they came in felt alone, but when they leave they feel less alone. They feel like they see themselves, like their story is highlighted and they’re not an outcast or “the other” anymore."

Support Storytellers.

The Different Meanings of Creative Work

Yesterday, I saw the film Jack Reacher 2. Yeah, I said it. It was the second time I’d spent $11.50 to see a protagonist beat-up villains and win the day in somewhat predictable fashion. And I loved every second of it.

Not all entertainment has to be rarefied in taste. In fact, it probably shouldn’t be. For years, I wrestled with the purpose of my own work. Who’s life was I improving by being an actor? I started to wonder. 

But sitting in a newly renovated movie house that'd stood in the center of town for nearly 90 years with three of my closest friends, I realized what we do matters…a lot. 

Writing, filming, staging, painting, drawing, dancing - CREATING. It serves a purpose. Whether a movie places a role in shifting your beliefs on a contentious issue, or provides an escape, or an excuse to spend time with close friends, there is meaning to the work. 

So don’t stop.