The making of the film: Silver Skies — or what it really takes to be a Film Director
This is me directing on the set of my second feature film “Silver Skies” with George Hamilton. It’s been a long journey getting this film made. I think it should always take a long time to make a movie. That’s what makes a movie great. Time, effort, heart and relentless hustle. Many years ago, Francis Ford Coppola predicted that some day technology would place a camera in everyone’s hands and we would all have the opportunity to make movies. That day is with us. And movies are in the worst state they’ve ever been.
There are upwards of six thousands films submitted to the bigger festivals. There is an abundance of content. Just because someone can make a movie, should they? Unless they are willing to spend years committed to relentless rejection, re-writing, seeking connections to people who can help, reading, going to museums, watching and studying movies and other directors, I don’t think he/she can call themselves a filmmaker. So, this piece is going to document the making of a movie with all its ups and downs. And that means, it’s going to take some time to write. So little by little, here’s the rollercoaster ride called “Silver Skies.”
At least ten years ago, I went to The MacDowell Colony, a nurturing artists colony in Peterborough, NH, broken, beat down and exhausted after fourteen months of travelling the world with my first feature film, “Acts of Worship.” From its premier at Sundance Film Festival to the Independent Spirit Awards, and many festivals and countries in between — from Greece, Spain, Sweden to Boston, Kansas City, Fort Lauderdale, Santa Barbara and more — I had spent those fourteen months lugging my film cans around from airport to airport. It was 2001. Not a good year to be doing anything, especially selling a dark, gritty indie feature with unknown actors. My decision to shoot on film, rather than digital, was one I regretted only in moments when I had to hand carry them through long treks from one terminal to another. Not even close to the glamour of the red carpet.
At the end of this festival run, I went to the Independent Spirit Awards ceremony. Even though cynicism was setting in about distribution and the film business, I was still surprised when I saw Nicole Kidman and others who would be at The Oscars the very next day. These megastars didn’t seem to fit into the indie film world (not back then). That they would be at The Oscars made sense. Indie Spirit Awards, not so much. Our “Acts of Worship” table was practically in the parking lot — a sure sign that we would not be winning the awards we were up for — Best Actress for Ana Reeder and the John Cassavetes Award for Best Feature. I was beyond excited when I heard that Peter Falk would present the award. John Cassavetes was a major influence on Acts of Worship, and Peter Falk was one of his actors. For me, it was profoundly moving to be in this category.
We lost to the only movie with a celebrity in it. It was the end of the run of “Acts of Worship.” I needed another script, and fast. I had a manager and an agent now, and nothing to give them to sell. Rule number one in filmmaking: ALWAYS have another project ready to go.
The MacDowell Colony provided me with a quaint cabin the woods, where no other person or car could be seen. A wonderful man came around every afternoon and quietly dropped a picnic basket of lunch next to my door. There was a fireplace, a bed, a huge desk and a rocking chair. I wrote for four weeks straight. Words came pouring out. I watched movies every night, while everyone else drank wine and played pool. It was heavenly.
I had gone there with an outline of several pages that I had put together with my sister Pat. Silver Skies was an homage to my parents, who were still alive, but aging. Ironically, over the many years it took to get it made, my parents would die. Even more ironically, one of the characters, based on my father, had Alzheimers. Yet my father didn’t have Alzheimers…yet. He would be diagnosed with it years later. It took his life and our hearts. Watching that disease slowly wipe away my father’s lovable personality impacted Silver Skies greatly. It is a much more honest film than it may have been without that experience of watching my father’s decline.
Rule number two: Every film has it’s own time line and happens exactly the way it’s supposed to and when it’s supposed to, requiring immense amounts of patience. Develop a shit-ton of fortitude and perserverence. No two films are made in the same way. What’s exhilerating about filmmaking is that the film you are making has never been done before. It’s always new. And it’s always miraculous.
(More “Silver Skies” to come…start developing that patience now. I’m directing a TV show and it will take time to tell this story. Remember, it’s never been told before.)
