A mysterious stranger approached me after a recent screening of my directorial debut, Side Hustle. “You’re painfully honest,” they said, their eyes glimmering with what I can only assume was a mixture of sympathy and a hint of morbid curiosity.
My thoughts were muddled with the aftermath of a rather drab Q&A. A brave soul had asked, “Did your casting work inspire your desire for a directorial career?” I shot back quicker than a caffeinated squirrel, “Honestly, I’ve always wanted to direct, but my self-esteem was in the dumpster, so I had to work on that first.” Cue enthusiastic snaps from the audience, because nothing says “I relate” like admitting your complete lack of self-belief. It’s that delicious irony that we’re trained to suppress. After all, admitting to self-hate is practically the equivalent of wearing a neon sign that screams “untrustworthy!”
In another riveting endeavor, I spoke to a gaggle of college students who asked how I found the confidence to direct my first film. I paused, searching for words between bouts of existential dread. “Therapy,” I finally answered. “And a lot of time spent lurking on sets. Think of it as an extreme form of networking.” Why isn’t there a course on mental well-being in film school? “How to make great art while hating yourself,” needs to be a mandatory 101.
Filmmaker Magazine has cunningly invited me to pen a piece about Side Hustle, and I shall endeavor to make this as useful as a life jacket on the Titanic for aspiring filmmakers. I aim to share my invaluable toolbox of tricks—not the 50%-off camera deals, but the real deal: the unwavering belief that I could pull this off without losing my marbles entirely. Let’s be honest; confidence and privilege love to tango, and if we keep ignoring those who are introverted and introspective, we’ll end up with a cinematic landscape that’s elite but dreadfully boring.
If there’s one golden nugget of wisdom I’ve unearthed, it’s this: investing in your mental health is as critical as saving pennies for a camera. Just think of it as your secret, not-so-guilty indulgence. Ignore your mental well-being, and, congratulations, you’ve opened the door to a life filled with resentment—and none of us wants to be the bitter artist with a cat named ‘Missed Opportunities.’ So, suck it up and sort your head out.
But let’s break away from my tempestuous musings and talk tips. If you’re thinking about making an indie film, get ready to crew on other projects or dabble in a multitude of odd roles across the industry—as long as a paycheck is involved. Trust me, learning while earning is the educational jackpot. You’ll build a network of collaborators who can soften the blows and bring anxiety’s simmering discomfort down to a mild boil.
As for inspiration? Do the groundwork! If your script isn’t just a self-reflection piece, go interview people in the industry, unless, of course, you want your film to be a dark comedy of stereotypes. Seriously, digging for authentic stories is like gold mining for the heart; you emerge with characters who resonate and a script that doesn’t feel like it crawled out of an algorithm. Now off you go, get those stories, and make your first project shine brighter than your high school’s prom king.
