Mind of Migg

The status quo.  It’s a tough thing to change.  It’s safe, it’s comfortable, and you know what you’re getting.  Even when I’m tempted to challenge the status quo, I always fall back on the familiar.  For example, I love Indian food.  At least, I love the Indian food I’ve tried.  Every time I sit down at an Indian restaurant, I tell myself I’m going to branch out and try a new menu item.  And every time my food arrives after ordering, it’s the same combination of chicken tikka masala, palak paner, and chana masala.  I can’t resist.

However there are situations much more serious than dinner that require a challenge to the way things are done.  In particular, I’ve seen this a lot when dealing with films – particularly regarding distribution and independent cinema.  Why does it reach a point of nearly being offensive to some people when change is proposed to them?  The prospect of change makes a lot of people defensive.

It’s interesting that those who would dare challenge the status quo are viewed as either “outside the box” thinkers, or outsiders to society.  One way or other, they’re different.  There was an experiment done recently and discussed at length in this (http://lateralaction.com/articles/computers-creativity/) article.  It talks about the ability of computers to think creatively.  Basically, they gave a formula to a computer and asked it to come up with an ad for four different products.  It also tasked a group of average people to do the same.  The robot’s ideas were voted by a panel to be more “creative” and frankly, they do sound a lot more interesting than the humans’ responses.  The most creative responses were a result of “thought templates” and formulas that took into account a lot of known factors.  That’s hardly “outsider” or “creative” thinking the way we know it.  It’s more like a logical progression that evaluates and critically applies existing methods in an efficient and effective way.

I tie these two aspects together – the status quo and creativity because of the perceived notion that challenging the norm or creating something different is “risky” or comes from a completely random place.  However, the robots weren’t more “creative” than the humans.  They just had a better thought process.  So if your idea has legs – if there is a clear process behind your new idea or process, you’re not a weirdo.  Quite the opposite actually.

I’ve seen recent examples of people determined to stick to tried and true methods in their industry that no longer work.  They refuse to admit defeat; instead plowing blindly ahead determined that eventually it would work again.  They scoff at the proposal of new methods and hesitate to try a new approach.  They might listen to some new ideas, but like me at the Indian restaurant, they’ll fall back on what they know.

I went to a handful of panels during the Los Angeles Latino International Film Festival a few weeks ago.  There was clear frustration from both the audience and the panelists about the state of Indie cinema.  The problem I saw was that every approach they suggested, everything they based their statements off of was from the premise of old methods.

Indie cinema is in a serious state of transition.  For those speakers from the studios, there was this idea that certain things were set in stone.  Because those things were struggling, the entire process would struggle.  There wasn’t even a consideration to not use certain methods.  They wouldn’t even think about alternatives that were radically different.  The changes some filmmakers now talk about – collaborative filmmaking, self-distribution, cheaper marketing approaches, don’t even fit into the equation for some people.  Instead they’ll become defensive, and more determined to beat a dead horse.  How does this make sense?  It’s one thing to hesitate when what you know is still great, but what if it isn’t anymore?

Let’s say you have a faucet that’s not working right because the pipe is broken.  Let’s say it’s impossible to fix this pipe – it’s too old.  Why wouldn’t you build a new pipe?  And while you’re at it, why wouldn’t you build a new pipe that’s more effective than the old one?  If it’s time for a change, make it a valuable change.  Those groundbreaking new approaches filmmakers are coming up with are no different than the computers creative ads built from a template.

The ideas required to successfully challenge the status quo come from a place of logic and application of experience.  Creative ideas, such as the ones now shaping the possibilities for independent films are not “outside the box” or fringe thoughts.  They are serious, effective alternatives to the broken pipes of Hollywood.  It is a challenge to move outside our comfort zone.  However, it’s necessary in order to grow.  Sometimes that same meal starts to get a little stale.  Be brave.  Try a new meal.

What is science fiction?  How would you define it and categorize it?  There are so many types; it’s hard to lock down one clear definition.  I’m taking a Sci-Fi writing class through the UCLA Extension Program this semester and the instructor asked for our own definition.  I had never thought about this and it’s tougher than I thought.

To make our jobs easier, he first gave us his interpretation of science fiction.

“Any story that relies on science for its narrative advancement.”

This helps cover the variety of different sci-fi genres, but I don’t think I like it.  I believe what makes sci-fi so compelling (at least to us sci-fi nerds) is that it holds a mirror up to society better than any contemporary story could.  The science is a way of telling the story in a unique way.  However, the science can be stripped away from many of examples of science fiction and still leave the main story.  When the USS Enterprise visits a warring planet and tries to make peace, it’s a diplomatic story.  No warp drive is necessary to tell that tale.  District 9 deals with apartheid, it just uses aliens to effectively get its point across.  Doctor Who is sci-fi at its finest, but some of the best episodes require the Doctor to make do without technology – his TARDIS can’t be reached in “The Satan Pit”; he is a human in “Human Nature”.

I don’t believe a story has to rely on science in order to be classified as sci-fi.  A time travel story requires the technology to time travel, true, but it’s what happens in the past or future and the characters’ interactions that make up the majority of the story.  The narrative is driven by their actions and attitudes while in a strange new world.  It becomes a reflection of our own thoughts and ideals in our time and how they differ either in hindsight or in potential.  I think in nearly every case of sci-fi, you can tell the same story in a different way without the science.  It just wouldn’t be as interesting.

So how would I define science fiction?  That’s a good question.  I’m sure anything I put forth would be full of more holes than my instructor’s attempt.  The problem is, there’s so many types – military, time travel, distopia/utopia, steampunk, hard, soft.  The great thing about science fiction though, is that it always stirs debate.  Debates about the realism of technology in the story, debates about the moralistic views of the characters, debates about how the characters are reflections of modern day – even when going for pure entertainment, there is something special about the multiple layers of any science fiction story.

I would say any story that invokes science as a story element in a speculative or fictional manner can be defined as science fiction.  That’s to say that, this fictional science is used in order to create the world of the story.  It’s a structure, but it’s only one pillar of the whole.  It creates a world, but it doesn’t necessarily drive the narrative.  That is left to the characters.

A phaser is no different than a gun in the sense that it’s used to achieve the same end.  But how cool is it to see a laser instead of a bullet?  And how cool is science fiction that writers can imagine all kinds of impossibilities that may someday come to pass?  As technology continues to advance at breakneck speeds, the range of sci-fi storytelling continues to grow. The problem with trying to define science fiction is that it knows no bounds.  It speaks to us in many ways, through many forms.  That is the beauty of it.

All I wanted was a mentor.  Someone from inside the industry, someone already established, who would put up with me.  There’s nothing better than a person more experienced than you are letting you hang around and ask questions.  I thought I finally had one.  I found someone who was instrumental in improving my script.  I think working with him helped my writing tremendously.

So imagine my excitement when he talked about wanting to work as a Producer on the script that he had helped with.  I thought I was set.  I knew it was still a long, uphill battle, but I had someone on my team who had been through it before and instantly added credibility to my cause.  He talked about the importance of collaboration and why he wanted to work with me.

“When you make a movie, you spend a long time with that group of people.  There are a lot of bad people in this town, but I want to work with good people.  If I’m going to spend my time working with someone, I’d rather surround myself with the good people.” he said.

He cared about the attitudes of those around him as well as their quality of work.  I really appreciated that.

The lesson here is, when push comes to shove, good people end up in the same place as nice guys – left alone.  In a business proposition, someone who says he wants to work with “good people” usually only does so at his own convenience.  And why not?  It makes sense.  I should’ve known better.  It is, after all, a business.  But what do you do when a mentor disappears for months?  When e-mails go unanswered and you discover by chance that he’s moved on to produce another project, suddenly realizing that it was silence with a middle finger you were getting? It sucks.

There are lessons to be learned from an experience like this.  Here’s what I’ve taken away:

1. I stated it above, but it bears repeating – when it comes to business, being a good person, and wanting to work with other good people can only get you so far.  If it would be tough for a family member or childhood best friend to go above and beyond for you, don’t expect a person you don’t know very well to come through just because you’ve started establishing a working relationship.  That’s not to say you have to be a jerk, but don’t be too naïve or optimistic about things.
2. Keep your eye on the ball.  I knew I wanted to make this outside the system – DIY style.  I knew we were developing a good plan to get the film funding and start growing a community around it.  I put it all on hold when this person showed interest.  Granted, I told him what I wanted to do, but then I listened to his more traditional approach, and I’m not sure if my desire to make it happen without a studio’s help turned him off to the project.  It’s a scary prospect to do things differently when you’re used to a certain system.  I shouldn’t have dropped what I was doing at the first hint of help from the inside.
3. Be aggressive.  Honestly, I was a little intimidated.  I deferred to his opinion and that of an actress he introduced me to that was also interested.  In hindsight, I had only worked on the script with him.  He had no idea of the amount of work I had put into the development of the film itself.  I think making that clear in the beginning may have helped the business part of the relationship.  Instead, I brought it up later, after they had already started cementing their, “when this is our project…” mentality.  I know that was partly my fault.  I let him rip me and build his own design without letting on right away that I had a clear vision for the project.  To say I had one later only looked defensive.

It hurts from a business side.  Having a Creative Producer with a track record definitely helps.  However, I can find another one of those.  What really stings is the lack of returned calls or e-mails from someone I thought was a mentor.  What stings more is that the last communication was about him being away for a while due to an illness.  Most subsequent replies were to make sure he was in good health, but apparently those didn’t even warrant a response.

What have I learned the most?  Rejection is going to be personal as well as professional along this path.  It’s going to be often and going to sting a whole lot each time.  I’d better be ready for it in the future.  I’ve also learned to not be so trusting, no matter how genuine the other person seems.  But has it made me jaded?  Nope, not one bit.  I’ll always wear my heart on my sleeve, and I’ll always want to collaborate with good, passionate people.  And in the future, when I’m a whole lot more experienced and there’s an aspiring filmmaker talking to me (if I’m so lucky), I will at least give him the courtesy of a response.  It’s the least a person could do.

Sometimes, you have to wash your hands of a bad experience before you can move forward.  So, hands washed, I say, “Enough.”  Back to work.

Networking.  I shudder at the word.  Not that I’m anti-social.  I have no problem going out with friends, having a good time, or meeting new people.  It’s just the thought of events organized for the specific goal of getting to know others for the purpose of business.  They’re never as bad as I make myself think they’ll be, of course.  I get anxious in the hours leading up to it, having horrible flashbacks to eating alone at the high school lunch table and wondering if I’ll end up in a corner downing tequila shots by myself.  Fortunately, that hasn’t happened yet (unfortunately, sometimes that’s a better alternative than the actual networking).

So I went to one of these types of events this week.  It wasn’t bad.  It was a good group of people.  I’ve improved at making an effort at these things.  Smile, eye contact, ask questions.  Check, check, and check.  I’ve read up on this.  Practiced.  Nobody’s told my heart yet, as it still pounds and tells my hands to get shaky, but what can I do other than keep practicing?

There are three problems I still have though.  The first is introductions.  Once I’m in a conversation, things are great.  I’m like a teen learning to drive: if I can get to second gear without stalling, I’m home free.  But sometimes I get nervous and the car stalls at the freeway entrance and then nobody is happy.  So there’s that.  If people can get past the giant, “I’m a little awkward at first” post-it on my forehead, things go well.

The second problem is something I’d call the “dialogue inside my head” problem.  I try to listen.  I try really hard sometimes.  But sometimes, I can’t help but get all ADD with my inner dialogue.  The easiest way to explain how this works is to show you an example:

“This person is pretty cool.  What’s that smell?  That smells good.  I think I’m a little hungry.  Are his eyes getting shifty?  Does he want to leave?  I should nod to show I’m listening.”

I nod.

“Now focus.  What if he asks me what the last thing he said was?  Is it that obvious I’m not listening?  But I am listening.  Ok, focus.  Memorize the next sentence he says in case he calls me out because I don’t look like I’m listening.”

I listen intently.

“Got it.  Why would anyone ever do that?  Would someone really ask you to repeat the last thing they said?  That would be a jerk move.  It’s never happened, but I should be prepared.  There’s that smell again.  Oh my god.  What are we talking about?”

The voice inside my head is evil.

The third problem is how to leave a conversation.  What happens when you’ve had your fill of a person?  Not to say someone’s boring, just that it’s supposed to be networking.  I should be “working the room” and introducing myself to everyone.  But because of problem #1, I won’t easily walk up to another person.  More likely, I’ll stand around for a bit and hope someone talks to me.

“Someone please talk to me!” my inside voice screams while panic starts to build.

I want to avoid that scenario and I also can’t end the conversation without a reason.  That’s when I end up talking to a single person for way longer than intended and know more details about their life than I ever imagined.  Very cool and makes me like that person, but again, not the purpose of the party.  I need to have a smooth exit line, akin to a golden pick-up line.  The best I can do right now is, “excuse me while I…step over here by myself.”  Not a good enough reason to move on.

The mixer I went to this week wasn’t a disaster.  Nobody could hear my evil inside voice, so I think it went okay.  I met some cool people and didn’t make a fool of myself.  Any time those two things happen at event, it has to be considered a success.  My loner tequila days may well be over.

I was fortunate enough to be invited to a screening put on by Sabi Pictures last week for the premiere of their film, “A Short Film About Letting Go”.  The screening also included several other short films that they had made over the last 20 months.  Even though each film had a different director, the films all had a similar style.  One thing was certain, and that’s that they all left an emotional resonance.  As the summer wraps and we shift from, “cool stuff blowing up” mode to Oscar season, it was nice to see films like these.

Sabi Pictures was co-founded by Kevin Shah and Zak Forseman.  Sabi Pictures is all about collaboration.  They even refer to their approach as inter-dependent filmmaking as opposed to indie filmmaking.  Kevin directed “Dust Request”, which was shot in New Zealand with a backdrop whose beauty can’t be matched anywhere else in the world.  Zak directed “I Fucking Hate You” and “Heart of Now”, a soon to be released feature of which we saw the trailer.  Zak’s film had a more traditional structure, but still maintained the raw style of all the films that allowed the audience to really connect with the characters.

What I loved about all the films is that they stirred an emotion in me.  They weren’t all wrapped in a nice neat box.  They were the type of films that you can leave the theater and discuss.  They were the type of films that you can look for metaphors in and debate the meaning of.  But they weren’t films that felt like pretentious art.  It was the perfect balance of artistic cinema and good storytelling.  Everything about it felt organic and that was confirmed during the Q and A and in speaking with Kevin afterwards.

“A Short Film About Letting Go” is about two different relationships – one coming to an end and one just beginning.  A couple is breaking up near the beach, remembering the good times, but also knowing it’s over.  A father is starting a relationship with a son and accepting the difficulties that lie in being a part of his son’s life.

Sabi seems to use scripts in their films as a guide rather than a blueprint.  “ASFALG” was nearly entirely improv.  It was a collaborative project, one where there was a large amount of trust put into the cast and crew to bring life to the story and their characters.  I think they accomplished that goal.

This style isn’t for everyone.  I know some people enjoy point A to point B, and a lot of times I do too.  It’s easier.  I’d compare it to reading.  Sometimes you want a good book and sometimes you want good literature.   For those who want the latter, check out and support Sabi Pictures.  You won’t be disappointed.