Before the Feature
1.3 — How a short film made over a weekend spurred the development of my first feature
The path to making Rhapsody started with a short film (though, honestly more of a scene study) that managed to get some faculty recognition within my MFA program.
Of course, not everyone will have access to the resources that come with institutional support — I certainly didn’t start out that way.
I decided to pursue the academic route because I had deeper questions about the why of filmmaking and thought maybe I could find answers in that setting. I also loved the idea of having a cohort to learn alongside. I plan on writing in more detail about MFA programs in a separate article, so for now I’ll focus on the short.
Before “Roll Your Own,” I’d shot a handful of shorts with friends for fun or as school projects. But, my MFA experience was unique in that it wasn’t truly a film program — there were only writers in the cohort — and there were not any graduate cinematographers, editors, producers, etc. This meant if you wanted to make films, you really had to carve out the time and space to do that on your own.
I knew that I was ready for the next step. I wanted to work with professional actors and to try directing something of substance. I called in all my favors, mostly folks I’d worked with in my production days before going back to school.
After all the time and energy that went into the shoot, I walked away feeling that I didn’t really get what I wanted. I learned how important it is to speak up about what you want on a set. I realized that I was focused on ensuring everyone felt heard to the detriment of my own vision. Of course, it doesn’t have to be one or the other, there’s a way to do both, but I walked away from that set vowing to never walk away with that same feeling.
On the positive side, that short marks the beginning of serious inquiry into my own sense of direction. After some time, I was relieved that I didn’t get what I wanted because at least I knew I wanted something specific. I knew I needed to trust my own intuition.
Another key insight was that I thoroughly enjoyed working with the actors. I was so moved by their openness and willingness to be vulnerable and collaborate. There is no substitute for the kind of courageous collaboration that can transpire between a director and actors.
It took nearly a year to finish post production for this five-minute film. We’ve all been there.
During that time I screened it to professors and friends and got a lot of great feedback that helped my work going forward. The biggest relief was that the parts of the film that didn’t work were the parts I knew didn’t work. My intuition was intact!
On set, there were two kinds of thoughts I kept pushing down. I thought they were getting in the way, but I have since learned that these kinds of thoughts are the exact things one must be open to when engaged in the creative process.
First off, I kept asking myself how the story would change if it were two female-identifying characters. I was uncomfortable at the thought for some reason. The exact discomfort was a lot to unpack, but it essentially came down to protection. I thought that if I wrote a story with male-identifying characters, I would be able to better distance myself from the material. I went back and forth with this until I met the actress who would go on to play Devon.
The second thought was a sound. Trains, actually. While filming, we could hear the bellow of a train horn from not too far off. Our sound recordist called out to hold, and I told him to go ahead. As soon as I heard that sound I was taken back to the apartment I lived in years ago in Riverside. I remembered hearing the train horns at all hours of the night and being comforted by them. I was filled with a deep melancholy and nostalgia when I heard that sound. I realized that whatever the bigger project I went on to make was, it needed to bet set in Riverside. We needed to film on location. There was so much personal history rooted in that city. It was too much to pass up. Even now I’m very thankful we heard those passing trains while filming. I might have decided on Riverside in any case, but it’s hard to say for sure.
While in post with the short, I screened it for a professor in what I thought was an empty classroom. It was my first time showing the locked picture.
It was also my first time seeing it on a screen bigger than my laptop.
I tried not to study his face as he watched the film, but I couldn’t help it. I noticed every movement out of the corner of my eye.
At the end, the student sitting in the back of the editing lab started to clap. She said something nice about the cut. I was deeply embarrassed. It’s watchable, I thought.
My professor had a few thoughts on the cut. He scrubbed through and pointed out a couple of shots he thought worked.
At the end of our conversation he asked me what I wanted to do and I told him I wanted to make a feature. I might have said, no more playing around, or something to that effect. He nodded. No more practice, he agreed. If you make a feature, something will happen.
