JOURNEY’S END. The journey of ten thousand miles begins with a single step, and it ends with one too. We are close to securing a distribution deal for The Prankster. Not surprisingly, this step raises as many questions as it answers – am I doing the right thing? Is it the best deal? Will they do their job? Will the audience know about it, and like it? What do I do now??

Clearly, the immediate future will involve working out a fair contract, and then providing the distributor with the necessary deliverables. We’ll make one last review of the movie, mostly for QC and tiny fixes. Then it’s bon voyage. Rather akin to sending your kid off to college. Not a death,  but a moving on. The kid, the movie, will still be out there, but they now have a life of their own. They are left to their destiny.

It’s hard to let go, but what are you going to do? You can’t keep your kid locked up in a closet. They need to be released. Then we can only watch. The key, I think, is to not have expectations. Hard to do, but moving on to the next project will help.

I have a road comedy, Baja, ready for production, and a couple of other projects in the writing stage. A regular little movie factory, I am. Then there’s all the little home projects that have been on the back burner, and cleaning out the office, and that trip to New Mexico, to reconnect with my soul.

The Prankster journey has been two and a half years since development funding, and the finish line is in sight.  Would I do it again?  No, because I can’t.  I trust that the next project, if there is a next project, and you never know, will be exponentially smoother and easier.  If not, why bother?

The end of a significant life chapter, and this is certainly one for me, gives pause.  Questions and reflections abound.  This is good stuff.  I don’t know what the future holds, and I am okay with that.  I look forward to the unfolding.  As Suzuki Roshi said in Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, our life is like being on a railway track, ten thousand miles long.  The sights come and go, the terrain changes, but we are the one constant, always there, experiencing and letting go.  The sun comes up in the east, and we eat cucumbers.  It’s all good.

“GO CONFIDENTLY IN THE DIRECTION OF YOUR DREAMS. Live the life you’ve always imagined.” These inspiring words were written by Henry David Thoreau.

Perhaps the truth of Thoreau’s words are obvious to you and you are living them. Congratulations, I salute you. If, however, you are like me, a somewhat flawed mortal, then living those words can be challenging.

We all have dreams, but “reality” gets in the way.  In the first place, we may never even start in the direction of our dreams because of fear.  Fear of rejection, of failure.  This fear is one that a filmmaker lives with on a daily basis.  The rejection part I’m used to.  I have received hundreds, perhaps thousands of rejections.  I can barely remember the first ones, which hurt so much, and caused me to doubt myself so greatly.  Now, they have almost no impact.  Why?  Because I believe in myself and my work. 

Assuming you do start in the direction of your dreams, the next problem is that things don’t go the way you imagined.  In fact, you can count on them NOT going the way you imagined.  The direction of your dreams is really stepping into the unknown.  It is easy to freak out with the unknown.  “The mind is a devilish sort of thing,” says Walter Huston in Treasure of the Sierra Madre, and it is prone to imagine the worst.  What’s the antidote?  Stay present.

Expect the unexpected.  Welcome it.  Life is a gamer, a prankster if you will, always throwing you curves, testing your mettle.  We can either wilt in the face of this or say “Game on, mother____er!”  What have you got to lose?  The worst that can happen is you end up where you started, wiser for the experience.  And what about the best?  Well, maybe the life you’ve always imagined….

Now let’s assume you’ve gone in the direction of your dreams, dealt with all the things that didn’t go as expected (try not to say “things that went wrong”), and actually ended up with a movie, and a pretty damn good one at that.  You rang!  You’re home free, right?  Uh, guess again.

The next major fear is fear of failure.  A movie is made to be received – I said that yesterday.  But what if no one, or very few people receive it?  What if it makes little or no money?  Under such circumstances it would be easy to feel one has failed – to make negative judgments about oneself and the whole enterprise.

This is a tough one, guys.  It goes back to believing in yourself and the value of your experience.  It’s about the journey being the destination.  It’s about not seeing things only, or primarily, in terms of monetary outcome or external validation.  It’s not about winning or losing, being a champ or a chump (or even a chimp!).

Ultimately, going in the direction of our dreams takes us where we need to go, even if it looks nothing like what we imagined.  Going in the direction of our dreams is its own reward.  You ARE living the life you imagined when you step in that direction.  Confidence comes with experience, and the knowledge that there is no other way to be yourself, to be truly alive.  As Chris Karas says in The Prankster, “at the end of our days, we may ask ourselves, did I follow my dream, was I truly myself?”

I’ll make a deal with you.  At the end of our days, and one day, perhaps even today, may be your last, know that you’ve followed your dreams.  And embrace all that comes to you.  Marcus Aurelius said, “Accept whatever comes to you, woven in the pattern of your destiny, for what could more aptly fit your needs?”  It worked for him, it can work for you.  Enjoy the adventure!

MOVIES ARE MADE TO BE RECEIVED. The best reason to make movies is to serve others. Others are served by stories that are life-enhancing. Yes, they must be entertaining first, that’s the hook. But then, in the best of movies, there is something extra.

Over two thousand years ago, Aristotle identified the essential components of Ancient Greek Drama, the precursor of theater, and ultimately of cinema as well. Aristotle said that all stories needed and were held together by a “central idea.” He also said that the audience’s emotions were “purged” by a good story, and this he called catharsis.

If you look at movies today, both good and bad, you can see that the “good” ones are suffused by some kind of central idea, and the bad ones are not. As human beings, we are attracted to things that help us learn and grow, that shed light on the truth.

As filmmakers and storytellers, we have a sacred responsibility to speak the truth as best we can. The audience is hungry for it. Have you ever thought about how essential stories are to the human psyche? Why else would we have movie theaters and video stores throughout the landscape? Stories, and what they communicate to us, are nearly as essential as food and water. If there weren’t cinemas and televisions, we’d revert to the oral storytelling tradition, which is what pre-dated Greek drama. And in the oral tradition, the same principles espoused by Aristotle apply.

What we are talking about here is mythology. Human beings crave stories that give us insight, that expand our minds. Our minds are, in fact, wired to respond to the story format. The story has a grand and honorable tradition. As storytellers we have a responsibility to build a latter day mythology. This does not necessarily mean light sabres and dragons. Rather, I am talking about a mythology of the human spirit, that helps the individual understand and map out a path to greater awareness, to understanding and making sense of the human adventure, its highs and lows, and even death.

Because stories are meant to be received, we need to realize their power. In the best of films, there is an invisible energy – I would call it spiritual energy – that is evoked by the movie. It is really quite magical. The only way to access it as a filmmaker is to allow yourself to be guided by a higher power. In reality, we don’t make movies. The universe does. Our job as filmmakers is to acknowledge this and stay out of the way. We are matadors.

To some this may sound new-agey, and it is. But don’t take my word for it. Examine the movies you consider great, both drama and comedy, and see if they aren’t suffused by a central idea, and even a special energy that sets them apart. When we get in touch with that, we are working on a different level.  It serves the audience, and is its own reward.

REHEARSE EVERYONE. Rehearse as many of the actors as you can as much as you can. This one thing will save you so much time (and that means money) that it is mind-boggling that it’s not done more often.

Typically, actors arrive and are expected to launch into production immediately. A conscientious director will have at least spoken to them about their character and scenes, but sometimes even that doesn’t happen. Anthony Hopkins once remarked that he was amazed at how some directors came to the set “stunningly unprepared” to do their work.

Well, rehearsal is the business of every producer and director. It’s the producer’s business because if they schedule a rehearsal for the principal actors, potential readings and blocking can be worked out in advance. Normally, producers don’t like rehearsals because they see it as an extra, unnecessary expense. This is being penny wise and pound foolish. What really costs money is the director and actors searching for their characters and moves on the set. Dozens, sometimes hundreds of people stand around waiting, while the meter runs. Most of that could have been avoided by having just a few days of rehearsal.

On The Prankster, we brought most of the principal young actors to the location about four days before the commencement of photography. This gave us a chance to do a thorough read-through of the script, and also gave them a chance to get to know each other. We also worked individual scenes and explored character. This work was unbelivably fruitful. On the set, it spared me the heavy lifting with the actors. They all knew pretty much where they were going with the characters and scenes, and only minor adjustments were required.

The rehearsal period is also invaluable because it gives you, the filmmaker, an opportunity to see the script played out in advance. In the process, you have one last chance to notice and fix (hopefully) any script problems. No, this is NOT the time for a wholesale rewrite of the script. You have to be strategic, to pick your battles, and make the best out of what you’ve got.

That is, in essence, what being a director is all about. To be strategic. To be a wise project manager. Don’t spend all morning getting a fancy tracking shot that’s only an eighth of a page, when you have to make 5 pages a day. Don’t do 23 takes looking for the perfect performance, when one of the first three or four is going to play perfectly fine. I could go on, but I will spare you.

So much of being a good director is just common sense. Be polite to people, keep things moving, do your homework, be prepared. Besides the rehearsal, the director should also spend some time the night before each shoot, going over the shooting schedule, making notes on how they want to shoot the scenes. All of this may go out the window when you get to the location, but it may not. In any case, it gets you that much closer to your goal, which is a viable rendering of the script.

So always rehearse the cast as much as you can. And during the shoot, when you are waiting for lights, rehearse some more. You will know when you’ve done enough. Then stop. Some actors worry about getting stale. I tell them that the choice they make in rehearsal is only one possible choice, that may or may not be repeated. We are not setting lines – we are just warming up for the real deal.

Last but not least, remember to have fun.  It is a privilege to be making a movie.  Don’t let your dreams be a burden.  Laugh a little.  It’s not what you do, but how you do it that counts. 

IT’S ALL ABOUT L.A.  I am sitting on the balcony of the Channel Road Inn, a quaint B&B in Santa Monica. The early morning sun is warming my tired bones. The soothing Pacific is just half a block away.

I am in LA for meetings, some with potential distrbution partners. One of the hard realizations an aspring filmmaker makes is that making movies is not just about making movies. That’s only half of it. The other half is distribution.

If you’re a creative type like me, your primary concern is to make a great film. Once you do that, you expect the world to embrace you with open arms. Well, I am not going to say nobody cares, but it takes some time, effort, and divine providence to get on the film industry radar.

Our story?  It  involves first attempting to market to the industry ourselves (not recommended – too many gatekeepers to overcome), hiring a compatible producer’s rep (recommended), then working with the rep to brainstorm through the list of usual and not so usual suspects, with the goal being finding a distributor with integrity, and who gives you a fighting chance for financial success.

As always, the filmmaker is best advised to stretch, to be involved, to have common sense, to develop some interest in the business and business skills. It is awesome when a creative can link up with a business minded person and as a team work together, both doing what they do best. But until you find such a partner, and even when you do, it’s on you to figure it out as best you can.

Then there’s divine providence. Sri Nisargadatta, an Indian sage, said (and I paraphase), that a whole lot more would get done if we just realized the universe was in charge, not us, so just chill. That’s really paraphrasing, but the point is, everything that happens is the working of a higher power. Shakespeare said, “there is a higher power that shapes our ends, rough hew them as we will.”

Does this mean just lay back and do nothing?  Generally no, we need to show up, be present and alert, and let our inner guidance lead us. There is no telling what will happen or when. It is a surrender to the unknown, and a willingness to go with the flow.

So I am in LA, flowing, with the waves, the traffic, the people, the vibe. The sun feels good. The Prankster is taking another step on it’s mysterious journey.

ALWAYS HIRE THE BEST PERSON. Whether its cast, crew, agent, or distributor, always hire the best person for the job, regardless of other factors. Of course, I hear you snort, what could be more obvious? Well, many subtle things get in the way of hiring the best people, leading to compromises in the viability of your team. At a certain point the aggregate of these compromises can reach a critical mass that can sink your project.

First, let’s understand that every filmmaker works within time and budget constraints. If you are doing a no-budget film, beggars can’t be choosers, so you pretty much have to take on anyone who wants to come aboard. The problem is that the help you get is often only worth what you pay for it, and if you are paying nothing….

Let me interject at this point that on The Prankster we had a relatively modest budget, but were able to pay most positions decently. We augmented our crew with a group of unpaid interns who were absolutely astounding and made an invaluable contribution to the project. We got so much value from our interns that I feel like I am contradicting what I just said above. Our interns, however, were working within a context of a paid, professional shoot, and had aspirations to be the paid crew members on the next project. I think the legitimacy of the shoot helped motivate them to be responsible and accountable, which they so were. Thank you Prankster interns – you know who you are.

That said, in general, especially on a no-budget shoot, personnel problems are a nightmare. So for our purposes here I’ll assume you are working with some kind of budget (and I highly recommend that you don’t take on the highly daunting and laborious task of making a movie without an adequate budget).

Whatever your budget constraints are, there will be a range of possibilities for various positions. Get the best person you can afford. One hazard is hiring someone because they are cheap. We like their price tag and will try to justify hiring them for that reason – “I think they’ll work out fine – they’re just looking for a step up opportunity.” That may be true, but it may also be a case of trying to squint an ugly duckling into a bathing beauty.

Another pitfall is hiring someone because of something we hope they’ll bring to the production, other than their work or performance. For instance, with an actor, we may be tempted to hire someone who has a name, even if they aren’t exactly right for the part, or may be a bear to work with. The thinking is that their “name” will add value to the project. Quite frankly, this is one of the biggest delusions in filmmaking. Aspiring filmmakers have somehow got the impression that with better names their film will be significantly more marketable. Well, I’ve got news for you – that paradigm is quickly changing and on its way out. Also, fundamentally, making the best movie possible gives you your best chance of reaching an audience. Hiring actors that aren’t a great fit, regardless of name value, only undercuts the production.

You can also make the mistake of hiring crew based on past credits. Granted, you should take a close look at their work to be sure they can deliver what you want, but if you think having an A-list caterer is going to get you more oomph with anybody, you are sadly mistaken. An A list caterer will cost more, and may not even have the best food. Too often, one’s stature in the industry is the result of politics and hype. Taste the food of the caterers you are considering, and call some references, to be sure they are consistent, efficient, and reliable. The catering example is just a metaphor here folks. The idea applies to all positions.

Perhaps the biggest obstacle to hiring the best people possible is the impatience or overanxiousness of the filmmaker him or herself.  The filmmaker is so eager to reach the promised land that he or she hires people that aren’t ideal.  Why?  Becasue he or she is in a big hurry to get somewhere, to be somebody, to realize their dream, to find contentment and fulfillment at last.  They see hiring personnel as an annoying means to an end and want to be done with it as quickly as possilble.

Guess what – if your process is sloppy, your exprience and your product will be flawed.  Remember the guiding principle, “every step with quality with care”?  There are two reasons for it.  First, to insure the impeccable quality of your project, which is what will give you your best chance at success.  And second, to provide you with a quality experience in the now, which is its own end.

There is no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  George Bernard Shaw said there are two great tragedies in life – one is to have never achieved your fondest dream, the other is to achieve it.  Think about that.  What G.B. means is that there is no fulfillment in externals.  What he doesn’t say, but which I know to be true, is that the only peace and joy you will ever find is in the now.

So always hire the best people.  This means being the best yourself, having patience and faith.  And smelling the flowers as you go along.  That, and only that, is real.  That and only that will bring you joy.

EVERYONE READS FOR THEIR PART. In casting The Prankster, I learned that there are two ways one can “audition” actors. One is to have them prepare some “sides” for the audtion. The other way is just to sit with them and talk – no line readings.

The latter approach is often, perhaps usually, taken with “name” actors. The thinking is that you’ve seen what they can do in other movies, so if you want them, then it’s just a matter of sitting down and talking to determine compatibility.

These little sit-down sessions are really quite interesting – something akin to a first date. There is a lot of subtext in the back and forth conversation. In the end, however, I was always left with questions. I really don’t think you can get a sense of what an actor, no matter how famous, is going to do with a part until they act it out.

For The Prankster, everyone who is in it (except Georges Corraface who played Uncle Nick) went through the audition process. It helped that for many of the roles we were casting young actors who didn’t yet have big names. But even Kurt Fuller, who is a renown actor, came in and auditioned for Dean Pecarino. And I’m glad he did. There was no way I would have known he would be that good in the role unless I saw him act it.

Kurt later confided to me that he was ambivalent about coming in for an audition. He had told his agent to tell me just to check out his past work. But his agent convinced him to do the audition and he knocked it out of the park.

I can understand that when an actor reaches a certain stature, they feel they shouldn’t have to audition anymore. It is work to prepare sides, with no certainty that you will get the part.   But from a filmmaker’s point of view, it is essential that you see all of your actors playing their roles. They may have been fantastic in other movies, and may do a great version of the character in yours, but you will have no idea if their version matches your vision until you see them do it. When you see them do it, it may be awesome, but it may not be what’s best for the movie. It is then crucial to be able to see if the actor can adjust and give you what you want. In all the auditions for The Prankster, I tried to test the actor’s range.

For example, Matt Angel, who plays Chris Karas, came in and did an impressive first audition. He prepared Chris as timid and nervous. In reviewing his tape, I liked what he did, but I also wanted the Chris character to be brash and confident in certain situations. So when we called Matt back in for a second audition, he said, oh, you want me to do it badass? No problem. I took Matt through a variety of adjustments and he got it, always, immediately. I knew then I had found my lead.

Our casting director, Emily Schweber, was fabulous. She is really dialed in to the young actor world in LA and so was able to call in and pre-screen a dynamic and talented group. There were usually several good choices for each role. It then became a matter of seeing how they played off each other. So for second and even third callbacks we’d pair up actors and check out the chemistry. This was a lot of fun and extremely instructive. We taped all the auditions (some of which may be available on special features on our DVD) and pored over them. This is critical. In the moment, a performance flies by and sometimes you are not quite sure what happened. Being able to review tape is a must.

And, of course, all of this process requires reading for the part. What about Georges Corraface, you ask? Well, I took a chance with Georges. Since he lives in Paris, it was not viable to have him read – I guess we could have asked someone to tape him in Paris, but we didn’t go that route. I had seen Georges in a Greek movie and he seemed to have the look and acting abilities I wanted for the Uncle Nick character, but I didn’t know for sure. As he is probably the most famous Greek actor in the world, when he said he would do the part, we just took him up on it, without a reading.

I was holding my breath when Georges arrived. What would he look like in person? Would he be easy to work with? What ideas did he have for the role? I was astonished to find, when we did meet, that Georges had totally changed his look. His hair was longer and darker, and he had grown a moustache, goatee, and stubble. He was a better Uncle Nick than anything I had imagined. Not only that, but he is an absolutely lovely man, a joy to work with. And, he had been doing a one man show, reading from Zorba the Greek, and had the Zorba thing down to perfection. Honestly, if they ever remake Zorba, Georges should play the part. Just an immensely talented, wonderful individual. I lucked out. I realized that a higher power was looking after The Prankster – maybe even Kokopelli himself!

So, the happy circumstance of Georges Corraface notwithstanding, I highly recommend that you have everyone read for their part, and work diligently in the casting process. It is amazing how much of your movie you test and flesh out in this process. With this work behind you, and a great cast on board, you are well on your way to an awesome movie.

HAVE SOME GUIDING PRINCIPLES. Before beginning a journey it’s a good idea to have a destination. For a filmmaker this means having a goal or mission.

Most filmmakers seem driven by unconscious goals. On the surface, their goals are to make movies, be successful, garner awards and experiences. In essence, they are being driven by ego and are no different than the vast majority of people in all walks of life.

We all grow up with ego needs and, hopefully, as we mature we move beyond them. This is where the notion of guiding principles comes in. If you are not making movies to fulfill ego needs, then why exactly are you making them?

If your answer is “I’m doing it for ego needs and I’m proud of it,” okay. You will be working on the level of power and influence to get your work made, and to have it succeed.  Even if you do succeed, on an inner level something will always be missing.

What I suggest is working on an altogether different level, the level of spirit. In filmmaking and other endeavors, if one dedicates oneself to the highest good, to be of service to others, then we call in a different energy. We have moved beyond the realm of worldly power and influence. We are now working in alignment with the universe, and navigating the flow of the unknown.

I don’t mean to suggest that this path will necessarily be smooth and comfortable. It may in fact put us face to face with our greatest challenges and fears, forcing us to grow out of our comfortable patterns and defenses. This is a good thing, although it may not feel so good at the time.

What are Prankster Entertainment’s guiding principles? Our motto is to make movies that entertain and enlighten. The word enlighten is key here. It suggests growth and expansion.

Anyone can create “filmed entertainment,” which can be something as simple as a bunch of young women baring their breasts in rowdy barrooms. This is “entertaining” to some men, appalling to some women, but Girls Gone Wild is regarded as a very successful “filmed entertainment” venture.

What we are striving to do at Prankster is to honor the tradition of sacred storytelling. We feel that filmmakers are nothing less than the creators of modern myth, and as such have a responsibility to the audience. That responsibility is to serve their highest interests by presenting them with stories that not only engage, but also elucidate.

As noted before, this does not mean being overly serious. Laughter in drama, pathos in comedy – balance is key.

So one of the overarching principles I recommend filmmakers consider is the principle of being of service. Not only in the finished product, but every step along the way. This means in the writing and development phase, pre-production, production, post, and in every encounter with anyone else. The guiding principle here is: “every step with quality and care.”

Along these lines, you might want to consider keeping your content positive. So much of what is seen on the screen exploits fear – horror and violent movies usually exacerbate fear, and rarely purge it. No doubt, there is money to be made in this arena, as there is no shortage of fear in the world, but is that the legacy you want to create?

There is a dire need for content that focuses on the higher aspects of human nature, on the joy of the human adventure.  It does exist, you know. The more we see of it, especially in a powerful medium like film, the more it will help to shape a new reality.

Perhaps the best way to close, for now, is to quote the simple guiding principle of the Dalai Llama: “Kindness is my religion.”

Do yourself and your audience a huge favor. Be a kind filmmaker.

WORK THE SCRIPT.  The most fundamental aspect of film storytelling is the script.  Without a good script you simply cannot make a good movie.  So why is it that the vast majority of films, including huge Hollywood productions, fail on the level of script?  There are two issues involved.

First, many filmmakers do not honor the importance of script.  They are in a rush to get into production and figure they’ll correct story problems as they go along.  We’ll fix it in production, or better yet, we’ll fix it in post!  Yeah, right.  Almost inevitably, such an approach leads to confusion on the set, and despair in post.  It is inconceivably appalling that new pages are being written the night before, or the actual day a scene is shot.  I’m all for adjustments and some level of improv, but all too often this last minute scripting is an ill-fated attempt to address story problems that should have been faced months earlier.

If you are in a hurry to get into production, ask yourself why?  What is your motivation?  Usually, filmmakers are impatient and overanxious to get to the set, to start filming, to move closer to the realization fo their “dream.”  I can’t really blame them – I’ve been there.  But one thing I learned is that you can’t fix a script on the set or in post.  You need to work the script to your complete satisfaction before a camera ever rolls.  That way, you have a solid baseline for a successful production.  A good script, only competently executed on film, will succeed with its audience.  A flawed script, given the best execution money can buy, will usually fail.  Yes, there have been bad or only average scripts that have been turned into financially successful movies.  These movies usually rely on gimmicks and/or cast to win an audience.  But such cases are rare.  In any case, it’s an uphill, almost hopeless battle without a good script.

The second issue, after acknowledging that having a good script is important, is discerning what is a good script?  Many people pay lip service to the notion that having a good script is essential, but this doesn’t mean anything unless they have the discernment, or process,  for recognizing a good script. 

This is a serious problem.  Many people mistake their opinion as evidence of a script’s quality.  People with absolutely no literary or film background (some of them heads of studios) take their opinion as a crucial if not final barometer of a script’s value.  Professional screenwriters working on a project are befuddled by script notes from anybody and everybody.  The bottom line is that fundamental principles and qualified authority are not acknowledged in the film business.  Just because someone can read or write, they think they can judge – or worse yet, create – a viable screenplay.

Think about this for a moment – if you wanted to become an ace trial lawyer, or a respected brain surgeon, you automatically know you would have to go to college, law or medical school, then an internship, then gain several years of experience.  In short, you are looking at an eight to twelve year process, minimum.  Why should it take less time for someone to learn to be a great screenwriter?  There are far fewer great screenwriters than there are ace lawyers or crack surgeons.  But people with no training or experience, who go out and buy Final Draft, figure they are ready to turn out a great screenplay.

Picture this.  A brain surgeon in the middle of an operation is stopped and given notes – by everyone in the operating theater, even by the custodian in the hall.  Funny stuff, huh?  But that’s what’s done to writers.  Their craft is not respected.  Since this disrespect is the status quo, the way things have always been done, no one questions its absurdity.

Be that as it may, your job as a filmmaker is to be able to recognize or develop a good script.  So how is that done, you ask?  First, don’t just rely on your own opinion, especially if it is an opinion that is not informed by years of training or a track record.  You need to seek out writers and script evaluators who are experienced and committed to their craft.  Step number one, seek out authority and listen to it.

Step two is work the script.  For The Prankster, we did several different readings, at least three of them with high school students, who were our target audience.  No, they weren’t script experts, but they provided a good gauge of what would fly with teens and what wouldn’t.

Step three is acquaint yourself with fundamental storytelling principles.  You don’t have to become an ace screenwriter – that would take years, right??  But you can learn the fundamentals, like: every story must have a beginning, middle, and end.  Every story must have a protagonist who either arcs or fails to arc (tragedy).  And last, but not least, every story must be held together by a central idea or theme.  Aristotle espoused these principles over 2000 years ago, and they still pertain.

Perhaps most important, ask yourself why you want to tell a particular story.  In many cases, it’s just a case of a filmmaker casting about for material – a script is an unwelcome necessity to him or her.  If you just want to be a filmmaker because you think it’s cool, well, God Bless You, but even you would be well served to focus on figuring out what’s a good script.  Better yet, you and your audience will be served if you look within your heart and find a story (you don’t have to create it, you can find your heart in someone else’s work, preferably that of a trained screenwriter) that you believe in, that can help people.  I’m not talking about being overly serious here.  A comedy can be inspiring, a “serious” drama can and must be leavened with humor.

Find your humanity.  Realize that the purpose of storytelling is, and always has been, to put people in touch with an insight, epiphany, or idea that expands who they are.  This is sacred, and the only storytelling worth the name.

EACH DAY IS A GIFT. Our cat was recently diagnosed with cancer. Last week, we rushed home from vacation because we thought she might be in her final hours. Miraculously, she made a comeback, and we have had several wonderful days with her. This helped teach me that each day is a gift.

What does this have to do with filmmaking, you ask? On a film set it is easy to take oneself very seriously. Whether you are the director, an actor, cameraman, or whatever, the tendency is think that what we’re doing is oh-so-important, as if the fate of the world depended on it. This leads to a lot of pettiness which is, of course, nothing but ego.

How differently would we act if we actually realized that each day is a gift? That our cat, our friends, our parents, and even we ourselves may die tomorrow, or today? We will, you know. Most people just nod their heads, as if they know that, but do you know it in your heart? If you did, you would let go of ego, drop your seriousness, enjoy the moment, serve others.

We live in a society that is in denial of death, that overvalues things that, in the relative scale of things, are not so important (eg, fame, power, money). A more important question to ask is, do I love and appreciate those around me, myself, the planet? Do I understand that everything is impermanent, that nothing can be taken for granted, that death, as Castaneda says, is always perched on my left shoulder? If I did, then I would be able to see the beauty and preciousness of every moment. An inner radiance that we’ve never seen before becomes apparent in everything.

I think it is very important, as a filmmaker, to realize that each day is a gift. It is a privilege and responsibility to be making movies. Privilege because very few people ever get to do it. Responsibility because what you do has a far-reaching influence. First and foremost, with the people you are making the movie with. You cannot possibly have a good result without a good process. If the set is filled with ego, pettiness, resentment, and conflict, that will be reflected on the screen in the finished film. If, on the other hand, you as filmmaker set an example of kindness, caring, and service, your movie will be infused with a spiritual energy that the audience will feel and appreciate on an unconscious level. In some small way, you will be making the world a better place.

This is not to say that a set will be Shangri-La, a cozy love-fest. No, the producer and director must at times be very firm. The word “no” must be said, and some people will have to go. But all of this can be done in a non-reactive, non-egoic manner. This is strong, high-quality leadership, that puts the project and its goals above that of any individual. All is done in the spirit of service. By serving others, we serve ourselves.

So, on the film set, and in life, remember that each day is a gift. You will be shuffling off this mortal coil one day, all too soon, perhaps when you least expect it. But if you have treated each day as a gift, you will have no regrets. You will be ready for the next adventure.