There’s a moment in my life I’m not proud of. I used to work at a rental facility, and I witnessed directors younger than me frequently checking out equipment. One evening, I stayed late at work to help with a production shooting at our facility. I watched a filmmaker who I felt “wasn’t doing it right,” and it filled me with anger. I walked into the office where my co-workers were, frustrated. When they asked what was wrong, I let this sentence come out:

This guy has opportunities I never had. And he’s not even that good.

I was angry at him, but really I was angry at myself because I had approached filmmaking and being a director the wrong way:

A title given to only the most worthy.

OF KINGS AND TITLES

We’d like to believe that our society has an advanced structural foundation. But much of it reverts back to feudalism. No sector illustrates that as much as the film industry. We are all fighting to be graced by the “holy powers that be” for the chance to be blessed with this title:

Director

We regard being a director as a rank above the rest. A form of genius king who blesses his staff and subjects with a portion of his mind. One who emerges once every few years to share his (because it’s mostly men) latest work before disappearing into his ivory tower.

This has been the goal of filmmakers since the inception of the industry.

We fight for this title that puts us above the rest. We are conditioned to see that this is the ultimate goal. Instead of seeing what directors really are:

Facilitators of the genius of a highly skilled collective.

HEAVY IS THE CROWN

There’s an old saying:

The director is the greenest crew member on set.

Filmmakers are experts at coordinating. We find the right artisans (actors, cinematographers, production designers) to come together and use their expertise to create an on-screen world. These artisans are specialized practitioners of a craft. They have spent hours upon hours learning a single discipline.

Directors deploy that expertise in the service of the story. This should be a nourishing process.

But too often in our industry, it’s an exploitative one.

While the director is the spokesperson for the film, the one who gets the lion’s share of credit and blame, we ignore the fact that filmmaking is a team effort. This not only does a disservice to the crew.

But also to the director.

There is a lot of pressure that comes with being a lead creative in a film. One that I’m about to dive into in just a few months’ time. But this pressure becomes less once we stop trying to be a genius auteur.

And start being the director of a creative team.

BEING A GOOD PARTNER

I met someone who worked on the HBO show Deadwood, and I will paraphrase (since I have no idea if it’s true):

Every morning, the showrunner would come in and put $200 in a hat. He would ask, “Whoever has an idea that makes this scene better, gets the money in this hat.”

Now, I’m not suggesting that we use money to bribe our crew to give us ideas. But the concept is one we can build off of. On film sets, we’re often separated by department and hierarchy. The electric crew doesn’t hang out with the director and the producer. We stay in silos, and it’s well known that some don’t approach others without the proper protocol.

For the future of NonDe filmmaking, let’s do away with this. Our crew sizes will (most likely) be smaller. So let’s make an effort to get to know each other. Not just as fellow filmmakers, but also as people. Something I would like to do on Concrete River, is take some time to have conversations with each person on the cast and crew. To find out who they are and how they’re doing.

We’re also implementing the practice of everyone getting paid the same amount. This naturally erases the concept of hierarchy (even though it might take a few days to get used to the concept). This will not only bring the crew together, but also allow everyone to speak their mind, be heard, and receive a thoughtful response. One that’s not:

“Well, I’m the director.”

The questions the people you work with ask will also be the same ones your audience might. If you can’t answer them while you’re shooting it, at least you have the opportunity to fix it before it’s too late.

GOING FAR TOGETHER

Making a film can either be a bonding experience or an exploitative one. It’s long hours that are both mentally and physically taxing. The first step in making it rewarding for everyone is this:

Realize that you are not an island. We’re on the island together.

We need each other to resource ourselves. Our work is the effort of a collective, not the genius of one (despite all the promises of AI tech companies). One actor says a line a certain way, which leads the DP to frame the shot differently, which gives your makeup artist an idea. The magic of filmmaking comes from the ripple effect of when a group of artists come together and engage with each other.

Our job, as directors, is to create the right environment where that engagement is at its best.

For your next film, think about how to accomplish these tasks:

1. Creating a level playing field: Foster an environment where everyone feels they’re on the same team in a way that leads to better creativity.
2. Give credit where it is due: Get ideas from other people and give them credit for it, both during the moment and after. Allow everyone to know that they are an important part of this production.
3. Create a community: Break down the walls and hierarchies. Whether it is conversations or events, take the time to allow everyone to get to know everyone. A crew should be like a family, not a factory.

This is the goal for our approach in Concrete River.

If we want to go far in our careers, we need to build the right community around us. What I missed in my anger while working at the rental facility was that getting far in the industry (and in life) isn’t about talent:

It’s about relationships.

It’s about being able to communicate and galvanize people. It’s about building trust in both yourself and other people. It’s also about enjoying the process of where you are and not looking too far ahead.

The future of filmmaking relies upon ignoring the idea of building an empire and creating a series of villages. Ones that all share and support each other. The industry has preyed upon our pride and individualism. By giving us shiny trinkets, they have tricked us into giving away our power while we are in pursuit of it.

By giving up individual power and instead sharing it, we will actually create the conditions we want as artists.