Am I doing the right thing?

Thursday night I had a screening of the latest rough cut of my feature film "In Montauk." I was trying to get friends who were Mothers and worked outside the home, preferably in a creative field. (Actually, lots of us work at our other job in the home.) Time constraints being a constant in all of our lives, I ended up with an audience of two besides myself. Both friends who'd been witness to the process, who knew the struggles I was having, but also friends who would tell me, honestly, if the film wasn't working.

I particularly wanted this audience because the ending has ended up being controversial. Particularly among my male film friends who, as proper feminist-loving men, loudly voiced their opinions that I was betraying women, betraying feminism and that my potrayal of the lead woman was outdated. And that my strong feelings about how the film should end were getting in the way of making a good, satisfying film.

Needless to say, this screening, for my target audience of two, made me want to vomit. What if I really am the only person who understands why it ends the way it does? What if I haven't earned it in the film?

In a way, it is like watching what other mothers are doing for their kids and wondering if I am doing the right thing. That mother who signed her kid up for the Metropolitan Opera Chorus because he can really sing and loves to perform - should I be doing that for my kids? Or the mother who takes her child into Manhattan every Saturday for swim lessons - why am I not doing that? Or the mother who has a sports-loving daughter who plays basketball, softball and soccer - why aren't I doing that for my kids? Will they still turn out okay? Will they be well rounded? Or am I cheating them by not pushing them to be the best that they can be at one thing? (My kids each study one instrument, take one dance/sports class and one art class).

With a film, though, there is the hope that you will get an audience. That it will appeal to some segment of the population. After all, filmmaking is about trying to communicate something, about trying to touch people. And so I watched the film anxiously with my friends. I chewed on my nails, then stopped as I saw my lead doing that on screen. I twitched. I made notes. I held back from making excuses for every bad cut, poor sound, or temporary music that was cheesy. And they got it. They understood why I ended my film the way I did. In fact, they read more into it than I had intended. They loved it. They agreed that it was the only way to go. And I can breathe easier, without the anxiety that I need to re-conceive the story and re-shoot the ending or risk alienating the very audience I'm trying to appeal to.

As for my kids, the only audience I really care about is them. Whether or not they'll agree that I did the right things for them, only time will tell. And possibly years of therapy.

Film Distribution and Parenting Styles: A working theory

Two weeks ago I attended "The Conversation: A Social Media Event" about getting your films out there, new models of distribution using digital technology. Now you can distribute your films on iTunes (if you go through an aggregator, because they won't deal with independent filmmakers), stream them on Netflix, hulu, Video on Demand. Only the very lucky, very connected or those with big-name stars get the holy grail of film, theatrical distribution. This wasn't about that. There were a lot of interesting stories from filmmakers who'd put their films out there, either for free or for pay; Arin Crumley with "Four-Eyed Monsters", the first narrative feature film to be shown on YouTube and Nina Paley with "Sita Sings the Blues," which won the Gotham Award for "Best Film Not Playing at a Theater Near You" in 2008 who streams her film for free online and makes her money back on ancillary items, including DVDs. Representatives from traditional outlets, IFC and Cinetic both said that they are still trying to figure out how to make money using digital outlets. ( To see a nice summary of the event, see David Tames' blog.) The most interesting thing that came out of the conference for me was, to paraphrase a quote by William Goldman, "[In digital distribution], no one knows anything." Which is not exactly true, but it felt like there isn't one single answer to the best path to distribution. It was more that it is important for filmmakers to understand distribution, how it works, what's available and then forge their own path.

To me, this seems much like the plethora of advice out there about parenting. You can find proponents out there for almost any type of parenting, most in the extreme. There's the attachment parenting promoted by Sears, saying that unless the child is literally attached to your body at all times, you are doing him or her a disservice. I had twins. They spent a lot of their baby years in bouncy seats. They are now respectful, fun, ebullient eight-year-olds that don't seem the worse for wear. There is Overparenting, or being a "helicopter" parent, a label which no parent wants. Unfortunately, I have seen it used by administrators to tell parents (yours truly included) to back off and let them handle it when their child is being bullied. We see how well that worked for Phoebe Prince, the 15-year-old girl who committed suicide after suffering from relentless bullying. And there is a new style that I have witnessed emerging, Hands-off Parenting. Where parents think the best way to teach a child is to leave them alone and let them figure it out for themselves. To me this seems like neglect, but I suspect it's a response to overparenting. I've also seen parents get less lenient as their children get older and start attending schools, where they have to interact with other children appropriately, or risk getting ostracized. All this is to say, that it is ultimately up to parents to figure it out for themselves. Not in a vacuum, but to read the literature, talk to other parents (maybe even their own) and go with their gut.

As I write this, I realize that I have accepted this tenet in my own parenting, but I have yet to accept it for my film. So I will gather information on distribution, use what seems useful, discard what doesn't, and go with my gut.

Directing is a lot like being a mom

Yesterday was the first day of shooting "In Montauk" and I was reminded of how much it's like being a mom in my experience. You put together the best environment that you can, give the actors a safe place to flourish and then let them go. In indie film, especially, where money is tight, you do your best to make sure everyone feels taken care of and appreciated.

Yesterday morning was cold. Really cold. Like 26 degrees on a windy beach kind of cold. We were shooting at 6:30 am. By 8:15, I could no longer feel my feet. I kept asking my lead actress, Nina, if she could feel hers. My crew started joking: "Why can't this movie be called IN MAUI?" I started thinking they were right. People don't flock to Montauk off-season for a reason. I started re-thinking the shirtless scenes that Lukas was going to have to do later. I couldn't bear the thought of him getting sick because of something I'd asked him to do. We were lucky - the weather got warmer, the sun came out, and the wind wasn't so bad where we were shooting. And, he knew the deal when he signed on, he's an adult. And that's the biggest difference.

Still, it gets kind of weird when you start calling your cast and crew "honey" and reminding them to pee because there are no bathrooms at the next location.

Finding Time for Oneself

I thought I didn't have time for myself before. Then I went into pre-production for "In Montauk." I can't remember the last time I was this busy. I get up, get the kids ready for school, take them or drop them off depending on who's carpool day it is, come home, work, pick them up, supervise homework, take them to afterschool activities, come home, feed them, hand them off to husband, work, read them a bedtime story, say "hello" to husband and go back to work. Part of it is the short pre-production schedule and part of it is the nature of the business. It's tough to get everyone excited about a project that's going to happen in six months. But a month, that gives some urgency to it. It would have been nice to find an in-between, but my location was about to disappear to construction crews.

I'm doing what I want to be doing, so I shouldn't complain, right? But that doesn't make it easy. I fall into bed every night feeling like I've been run over by a truck. Still, at least I sleep. Yesterday morning, while doing final re-writes on my script at 6:00 am, I got an e-mail from a friend telling me she'd found tights for our sons, who were to perform in a one-hour version of "The Nutcracker" later in the day. "Great!," I e-mailed back, "Can I come by and pick them up?" She lives down the street. I thought it would be no problem. She's e-mails back that she's in Central Park, ice skating. It's the only time she has for herself, early morning on the weekends. She gets time for herself by giving up sleep. I refuse to do that. Instead, I explain to my kids that Mommy's going to be very, very busy for a little while, but that I'll be back when it's over. "Are you going to be back for Christmas?" my daughter asks. I'd better be.