Concrete River is what I’ve witnessed living as a so-called “artist of color” in America. This country chips away at our confidence and self-esteem. Telling us our worth and success needs to follow a pre-determined path. A path where there is only scarcity, and we create out of fear.

The film follows the story of a homeless music producer named Travis. His dream is to finish the hit song that he was making with his daughter. He believes the song will enable him to “make it”, and he will sacrifice anything to achieve that dream. Once he’s finished his song, and reconnected with his estranged daughter, everything will be better once he accomplishes one goal.

 

Instead of realizing that his life can be complete through the community he already has.

 

This is a struggle that many filmmakers, including myself, have faced.

 

THE FALSE COMPETITION

There are a lot of criticisms I’m levying through this film. I’m examining the myth of the American Dream (it’s a myth, don’t get it twisted), struggles with mental health and the lack of a social safety net. But there is also an element of Travis that is a criticism of myself:

 

Because part of Travis is me.

 

I’m a filmmaker and an artist. Artists are conditioned to think of other artists primarily as competition. This country inflates our egos to believe in another myth:

 

The auteur genius.

 

We are constantly jockeying to get our “just due.” To make sure that our ideas and talents receive the proper recognition and credit that we think our work deserves. So we can get angry or disappointed when we see other filmmakers having success that we think we should have.

 

Which plays right into the hands of the current entertainment industry.

 

I remember when I was crowdfunding for my first short film here in Los Angeles. I was angry when we failed at fundraising (multiple times). I saw other filmmakers who had raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for projects that I thought “looked worse.” I thought the world was against me. When the reality was this:

 

I had no network and was trying to create a film that was too big for what I could actually do at the time.

 

It wasn’t until I accepted this reality that I began to build a portfolio of work. Because instead of looking at what I could get to make my dreams come true. I started giving.

And just one year later, I shot and produced one short film and directed another. Each would go on to have success in the film festival circuit and secure small distribution deals.

 

A RETURN IN MINDSET

The principles which govern, and still govern, American society are mainly utilitarian. So that a writer at some point in his life has to flee from this cacophony of football players and popularity contests and success in order to sit down someplace where he can find out what he thinks.” – James Baldwin

 

The greatest part of living in Denmark as a teenager was the escape. Not just the escape from American racial dynamics. But also the escape from pressure.

There’s a pressure to move quickly, pressure to grind, pressure to succeed at all costs in order to survive. They say pressure makes diamonds. But it also creates a lot of terrible decisions. Because that pressure in America comes from one place:

 

Fear.

 

Travis is always moving and hustling. He’s always looking out for the next opportunity. He might live in different conditions.

 

But he is every single American.

 

We are conditioned to constantly be on the move. To “grind our faces off” more than the next person because our society is structured for us to eat one another. But that’s not how art or anything great is made.

 

It’s made when one has the time to stop and think.

 

This is the journey that Travis is on and one that I also lived myself. I had forgotten the lessons I learned in Denmark. America made me think I had to speed up to stay ahead. In fact, my greatest accomplishments have come when I have slowed down.

The writing of this script has been a lesson in that. I used to try and rush through concepts in order to get to production. The concept was pitched to me in 2019 by a cinematographer friend of mine. I didn’t start writing the first draft until 2023. This was intentional as I took time to gather my thoughts before beginning. I wanted to think about not only the characters and the story.

 

But also what I wanted to say with it.

 

A CALL FOR INTENTIONALITY

When I think of Travis as a character. I think of all of us. Our social fabric is so fragile that we create for the wrong reasons. In this ongoing battle for survival, we are encouraged to move faster and faster. We have to constantly pump out “content” in order to grow brands and audiences. And this can bleed into places where it doesn’t belong.

There are times to move quickly and times to slow down. While I’ve taken time to write this film. I might not have the same luxury in actually making it. But maintaining our time and energy is the most vital part of being an artist. Especially in this current era.

I want to call on every artist to be more selective about what they create quickly and what you spend more time on. Let’s not be so quick to move from project to project to get the quick dopamine rush of accomplishment. Let’s zoom out and remember that filmmaking is a lifelong pursuit.

I would like us to treat our careers like gardens. We start with just a small bit of dirt and maybe some grass. As we move along, we begin planting. With some growing quicker than others. And some days you work harder on it than others. But a garden is something you nurture for a lifetime.

 

Because it will give back to you and others for (hopefully) an eternity.

 

So I’d like everyone to think about the project that you’re working on. While films are an almost endless series of tasks for be executed. Take some time to consider:

 

Could this be better if I created more intention with my process?

 

Time and consideration can create a better outcome over pure speed. However, don’t let time linger into procrastination. It’s about striking a balance between speed and care. Making sure your craft is part of a rewarding and repeatable process.

While getting the awards and recognition might be nice. That’s a very small fraction of what you actually do as a filmmaker. The processes and people you engage with on a daily basis are what will set you apart and sustain your future.