Everyone Wants to Be a Director

One of the first things I learned when being a indie filmmaker was that everyone on your set wants to be in charge. Everyone thinks they can do a better job than you. Everyone wants to be a director. It is hyperbole and no, not everyone is conniving behind your back while you're setting up a shot. But they all have opinions.

Every director is different. They all have different philosophies on directing and shockingly, some directors have no idea what they're doing. The way I direct is simple. Whatever is the best choice in service of the story. Going into productions, there are conversations about the look of a movie and that's in service of the story. If I'm shooting a film noir, I'm not going to suddenly have a scene lit like we're in a romantic-comedy.

Even if I've pre-determined my scene, shot selection and style ahead of time, I shouldn't be closed off to the opportunity for a better choice. I don't have all the right answers. No one does. Not even Hitchcock.

As much as I'm open to that. As much as I try to take care of my crew, that phrase always surfaces "Everyone wants to be a director," because there's always one person who thinks I'm doing it wrong.

My first short film was called "The Thing in the Cellar". It was based on a campfire story I heard many times as a cub scout. We shot over one weekend at my house. I paid no one. I couldn't and we were in our early twenties, so everyone was there because we all wanted to make movies. The short required a creature for the ending and since homemade CGI was not an option and I love practical effects, we opted for a creature to be made for us by a local artist.

I knew this person, let's call him Jim, through my best friend. Jim was going to make us a creature that would be "awesome" and he'd design this contraption to pour blood from its mouth when it took a bite out of our lead actor. Of course, this was going to cost money. And I was good with that. This was for the last shot of the movie and it was a reveal, so if there was a time to pay, this was it. Jim said he needed $450 and I agreed.

What I got was a hand-puppet. Now, I'm not saying some kind of effort and hard work went into this hand puppet, but not $450. The promised blood contraption was a plastic squeeze bottle and a tube. On screen, it looked like a hand puppet and that squeeze bottle and tube delayed the shot for an hour because it wasn't performing as it was meant to do. You know, pour blood out of a mouth. We had to take the bottle and tube and place it under our actor's shirt instead.

There was nothing I could do. I paid for it. It was all we had, so we shot it. Hey, live and learn. The production ends. I thank everyone and a week goes by. The puppet is at my house. I paid $450 for it, so it was mine.

But wait...

Two things happened next. I'm talking with one of my other friends, Kevin, and he tells me a story about the shoot. While I was in my basement setting up a shot, Jim was outside complaining about me. I wasn't choosing the right shots, I didn't know how to direct the actors, I should be getting different angles. Jim. The only one making money from this short. Complaining.

Everyone wants to be a director.

The 2nd thing that happened was that Jim called my best friend and asked for the puppet back, since he put so much hard work into it. $450 of work? I'd like to suggest that I took the high road here and handed it over without incident, but again, I was in my early twenties. The puppet may have gotten kicked around my lawn a few times.

$450 worth of kicks.