Desire, Commitment, and Timing

When I decided to go to film school back in the dark ages, the 1970’s, I was taking a huge risk. No one I knew worked in the film business, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t know anyone in the world of television either.

I had no plans to go to college after high school. I hated high school and felt like the only way to get through was to turn my brain off. I didn’t feel I was learning anything.

I will never forget my junior year I was taking a class called American Problems where we were supposed to be discussing current events as well as some US history. When Watergate broke the teacher wouldn’t discuss it. He was a real Nixon fan. A couple of us asked more than a few times why we weren’t talking about Watergate? After class the teacher told us he didn’t want to see us in his classroom until the following week! This was on a Tuesday.

On the plus side, I was always a voracious reader and that’s where my real education was coming from in those years, books and newspapers I read outside of high school.

After high school I spent a year doing lots of physical/manual labor. It was hard work. I ran into a different former teacher who suggested I give college a try. He had seen my work with the school’s video equipment and suggested I study film and video.

First, I went to the U of O to study television. At that time they had no real film program but you could take a few film classes. In one class there was a Bolex 16mm camera that you could check out and shoot a single roll of film.

I wanted to work with that camera so bad. I was either the first or second person to check it out. I shot a weird little short piece that I edited together. I was lucky, because the guy who checked the camera out after me, dropped it! The Bolex was broken and the department had no money to fix it. So there went the one 16mm film class. I took another class where we each made a film in Super 8.

It was then I knew I had to go to a real film school.

I applied to USC’s film program and when I say I snuck in under the wire I really mean it. I was told that before Star Wars came out in 1977, the USC film school would get 400-500 applicants for the 40 slots they had available every semester. After Star Wars came out they started getting 4000-5000 applicants for those same 40 slots. My timing was good and I was accepted.

I remember friends and family looking at me like I was nuts. Especially my mother who hated the idea of me moving to Los Angeles. She was very negative about what I wanted to do and she remained that way until her death in 2018. No matter how many times we talked, she never understood what it was that I did and why? Even after receiving both my BFA and MFA, she still believed I made a foolish choice but maybe, if I was lucky, I might be able to get a regular job at a local television station. No offense to people who work in television, it just wasn’t what I wanted.

When I got into film school I realized the work had just begun. Our first day of classes was an eye opener. I realized how little I knew and everyone around me seemed older and so much smarter. They were all into foreign and art house films, most of which I had never heard of, let alone seen.

All I could think of was, “What the fuck am I doing here?” I was so out of my league.

The faculty wanted to know how bad you wanted to be there. They threw all sorts of barriers at us to prevent us from succeeding.

We had strict deadlines for all of our assignments, and if you didn’t make the deadlines you probably weren’t going to survive the program. My friends and I pulled a lot of all-nighters in the editing room because there was no other way to make the deadlines. Some of us lived on caffeine and alcohol, and yes, there was some drug use happening but mostly the kind of drugs which helped you stay a wake and keep working.

That’s when I realized how badly I wanted this. I wanted to be there. The more I learned the more I realized this was all I ever wanted to do. And I was willing to work as hard as I could to make it happen.

We had a huge dropout rate in my class. I was part of a class of 40. We were originally split into two groups of 20 for the first semester. In my group of 20 we had an almost a fifty percent drop out rate going into the second semester. We lost a few more in between the second and third semesters. Of the original forty in my class I believe only two people went on to direct senior projects. It was very competitive. That’s just how it was.

In the beginning everyone wanted to be a director. As we progressed we learned about the different crafts. People started drifted towards editing, or sound, cinematography, writing, production design, or what have you. People found a part of filmmaking that appealed to them and they followed it.

A lot of people made film their career, but in the different crafts. Others went through the program, graduated, spent a few years in the business, then went on to do other things.

I get it. This business is tough. I have worked killer hours, spent weeks/months away from home, and I’m responsible for my own taxes and health care. I’ve worked on big Hollywood films and small independent films and everything in between. I‘ve had months of being slammed with work, and months of nothing. My income has been all over the place.

I started off as a picture editor and did a lot of sound editing before I directed my first films. I felt I wasn’t ready to be a director right out of school, I needed more experience in filmmaking in general, and I got that.

Looking back I feel like everyone I survived the program with had one thing in common. We all wanted to do this and there was no way anyone was going to stop us from doing what we loved. We made a commitment to do this work.

When I started, film wasn’t considered a legitimate job, unless you grew up in the business in either Los Angeles or New York. Today, film/video has become mainstream.

Over the years I’ve taught a lot filmmaking classes and workshops all over the country and overall it’s been a rewarding experience. Some of my former students continue to work in the business and I’m proud of them.

But there is something that has been lacking. In the majority of students I have taught I don’t see the fire, the commitment to film that my friends and I had when we started out.

I see students afraid to take chances artistically. Their work is safe, they don’t want to push themselves, and possibly fail. All they want is a good grade, and to be complimented. Complimented for doing the minimum and playing it safe.

I taught at one school for a very short time. I assigned what I thought was a fun assignment to do. On the day it was due, only three students came to class with their assignments completed. The other ten didn’t bother to show up at all. I was pissed to say the least. I made a comment in the department office and was told by two other teachers I was expecting too much. That students there regularly didn’t do their homework. I had to learn to expect very little from them. The following week everyone showed up, without their assignments, and wondered what they missed? I never got any assignments from most of the class.

That was the last semester I taught there. I told myself that if the students didn’t care about doing the work, then I would rather stop teaching and use that time on my own work. One instructor commented on how it “must be nice not to need the money.” At the time I needed money desperately.

I rarely teach anymore. I put a lot of thought and work into the classes I teach. I want to give the students not only a good education, but to show them what they are capable of if they push themselves. Apparently most students aren’t interested. As an adjunct or a visiting instructor I was not doing it for the money, because there was always very little. I was doing it for the students like I once was, who were hungry to learn about filmmaking.

When I was in school my favorite classes were when people who actually worked in the business came in and talked to us and showed us what we could do if we pushed ourselves.

I always told my classes if they really stretched and tried to do something different, out of their comfort zone, I would never grade them down, even if their attempt wasn’t successful. It was more important try something different instead of playing it safe and going for the good grade. It rarely happened.

I still hope to stumble across some younger filmmakers pushing their own envelopes and taking chances to make something different.

I’m still making films, working on other peoples movies, and writing, mostly fiction. Stick with me here and maybe one of these days I’ll let you know what I’ve been working on.

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