The Death of Normal

It’s October, 2019. I am co-producing a feature film, written and directed by a friend of mine. I don’t have time to do this, given I am a single parent with a full-time job, but I am doing it anyway. I make props, supply meals, buy special effects stuff, break down the script, shoot aerial footage, and do half a dozen other jobs that the title “indie movie producer” requires (basically, anything and everything one can).

I do this because I like the script and I like my friend and hey the credit is nice, but mostly I want the experience of seeing a feature-length film through from page to screen so that I am adequately prepared for producing and directing my own in the summer of 2020.

Shh. Don’t tell me. Let me stay here a bit.

I plan. I work. I fall in love with Studio Binder (seriously, use this). I book my kid for summer camps. I put aside vacation time. I start making my connections. I print out my script. I put “vibes” out to the world: hey, world! I’m shooting a feature film! Summer of 2020! In Boulder, Colorado! On a college campus!

Yeah. F**k.

So summer is done. My film is not. COVID is not. Wildfires are not. Politics and protests and unrest and financial ruin are not. These things continue to go on and on. They grind us down. And they are grinding particularly hard on collaborative people.

An early meeting with a potential co-producer ended with a very firm “no” from me (and some tears, if I’m being completely honest) when we were trying to figure out how we could possibly shoot this film right now. No, the actors can’t wear masks. No, proper social distancing is not realistic. No, we can’t change these big crowd scenes and shoot everyone in isolation. No, we can’t just “hope” or only hire people willing to take the risk. I believe in my art, but I do not believe my art is greater than any human life. One more time for the people in the back:

I believe in my art, but I do not believe my art is greater than any human life.

I didn’t enjoy making that decision, but I tried to keep my spirits up. I turned to the script. Every script always needs work. Always. I got feedback, entered contests, and started rewriting it. But that’s really as far as this project can go right now. I will continue to connect with others on the production side of things to keep the momentum going. I can’t realistically search for actors, plan for locations, or do most of the other things that come with actually making a film. And I am trying to be okay with this. I am trying to just… sit with it.

Not all of my co-creatives are able to do this, but I beg them: Please, Please try. Please be patient. Do not rush. The film I mentioned at the start of this blog is having a theatrical release against my advice and judgement. So many people will feel pressured to come out and see it to support their friends. So many of those people will then go back and mingle with others. I hope no one gets sick. Sure, the people attending may know the risks. Sure, they may be fine with it. But they are making this decision not just for themselves, but for everyone else they come in contact with.

There are stories of people getting sick at weddings or other events which have resulted in the deaths of people who WEREN’T EVEN THERE! There are already stories of cast and crew getting sick on set.

If empathy isn’t enough to persuade you, let me appeal to your ego: is this the production/release this project deserves? You may be able to bend the rules and get your project in the can or get your seventy-person theatrical screening, but is it worth it? Are you going to look back and think, “wow, this is awesome!” or are you going to think, “wow, it’s so weird that I made this rom-com where everyone is standing ten feet apart and we can’t hear the actors because the sound crew wasn’t willing to work…” Or even, do you want your big famous moment to be “the filmmaker that made all those people sick?”

For me, I know that returning to set right now would add tens of thousands of dollars to a budget I don’t have. Films that are doing it right have daily rapid COVID tests, ample supply of PPE, and are being shot in contained locations (and not, say, a college campus where my story takes place). They are also paying cast and crew solid wages (or should be) to remain as isolated as possible. I might be able to film some scenes in relative isolation and on a budget, but not knowing when I could get the remainder of them done and dragging cast and crew along for months just seems unrealistic.

I also know that it would be hard to have my head in the game and focus where focus is needed: ON THE STORY. Even without COVID, it’s hard for a director making a microbudget film to focus on what is really important when they are doing the job of ten people on set. Adding “nurse” and “germ cop” to that would only make it harder.

But have I given up? Oh hell no. While this particular production is on hold, I have turned my focus to “okay, well what can we do?” Turns out, it’s a lot.