filmmaking | The LA Sessions

Things I Learned About Being a Director…After Directing My First Film

Posted on May 24, 2020 by Heather Magee

It’s been nearly a year since I put the final touches on my first film. A year since I decided to quit my job to write and be an artist fulltime. A year since I decided to face the financial unknown in the pursuit of doing what brings me the most joy, for all of the minutes of each day. It feels like just yesterday that the CMO (that’s chief marketing officer for folks outside of the corporate realm) was helping me into my Uber, with my dog and desk chachkies tucked under each arm. And now here we are, with directors around the world wondering when they’ll be behind the camera again.

I’ll say this for our current health crisis – I’ve had a lot of time to think. Despite starting a new job a few months ago that has reclaimed those 50+ hours per week I gained when stepping away from my career last year, I’ve been thinking a lot about how to move forward while hunkered down for several more months (in California, anyway). A few of the projects I wrote while on hiatus I’d really like to direct. And acceptance that a return to normalcy (whatever that means) isn’t at all on the table until a vaccine has been developed, has evoked an overwhelming desire for preparedness. Not from a place of stockpiling toilet paper or filling our pantry, but from a place of wanting to be ready when we’re able to collaborate in person again.

I learned so much about directing while on set, and even more while cutting and finishing my film. Looking back, I leveraged every resource I had to try and prepare to support our cast, and some of it was helpful. I enrolled in classes, conferences and seminars here in LA. I attended lectures delivered by accomplished directors. I did Ron Howard’s masterclass online (which, in retrospect, I would highly recommend Judd Apatow’s instead). I met with friends who have produced films and asked lots of questions. I asked around to try and get myself on set to shadow a director, to no avail, so instead stalked Jimmy Kimmel’s team around Hollywood as they shot silly segments for his show (luckily, they happened to film near my office). I held a table read with actors in LA and flew to Vancouver (where we shot the film) to have a table read with our cast. I created detailed shot lists and met with my DP to talk about what I was envisioning. Yet, none of this prepared me for what it takes to bring a story to visual form. And certainly, none of this helped me to prepare for how to work with actors.

So, if you’re preparing to direct your first film while we wait until it’s safe to do so, here’s some things I intend to do next time around that anybody can do from the comfort of their own quarantine bubble:

Analyze your favorite performances – watch films of a similar genre and make note of all the things you like. Every director I’ve heard speak has referenced how they were influenced by other directors and sometimes lifted the techniques of their fellow filmmakers.
Create a visual shot list – in addition to the detailed shot list you’ll provide to your camera department, use imagery to explain your vision, provide inspiration and examples to your DP. Pinterest is a useful tool for finding film stills and scene shots.
Beef up your character breakdown – dive a bit deeper into the motivations and obstacles each character is facing, but give your actors the space to create, try different variations and own their performance.
Create a scene breakdown – this will help explain the tone, what the characters might be thinking if there’s minimal dialogue, and help your actors feel immersed in the world you’re trying to create.
Virtual table reads – I can’t stress enough how helpful table reads are when you’re in pre-production, as this will help to refine your dialogue and make it sound more human. It’s also a forum for your actors to float ideas around how to deliver their performance and see the story come to life in its entirety.
Virtual rehearsals – if you’re on a tight indie budget, rehearsals with your cast are kind of a luxury, but quarantine or not, try doing it virtually. Google Hangout works well as the camera automatically switches to whomever is speaking.
Virtual meetings with your DP – review the shot list and scene breakdown, capture his or her feedback, ideas and input and adjust accordingly – this is the person in charge of the visuals of your film and your key collaborator!
Don’t let the minutiae of pre-production overshadow your creative process – if you’re also producing your film (like I did while working full time), it’s easy to let the many moving pieces of production suck up all your energy. Allocate time to ideate and prepare creatively as well.

When I look back to shooting our first scene, and literally not knowing when to say action or cut, to our final day of filming and feeling much more comfortable in my role, it goes without saying – directing is something you can really only learn by doing. Surround yourself with a great crew, be positive, be open and willing to pivot and above all else, make your actors feel safe and supported.

Any directors out there with additional advice, please share in the comments!

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The Upside of Rejection

Posted on January 17, 2020 by Heather Magee

Rejection comes in many forms, doesn’t it? It’s sending a message to your match on Bumble to notice you’re suddenly unmatched seconds later. It’s having a recruiter view your LinkedIn profile for a dream job only to never hear back. It’s making eyes at the cute guy across the bar to realize he’s eying up the woman (or man) standing behind you. It’s wanting a snuggle from your dog and having them prefer to curl up with your spouse. Okay, that last one isn’t really rejection. Maybe your spouse has bacon in their pocket? Probably.

Point is, rejection is all around us. All the time. And it can feel end of times horrible. Like falling down a dark hole or being buried alive. Or, it can uncover something really meaningful. Without sounding too sunshiny, which is not really my style anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about the latter.

But first, here’s the thing…

Show business is fucking tough. It’s likely that doesn’t come as a surprise to most people, hence why most people don’t pursue it. Aside from the financial instability that comes with chasing something so volatile and elusive, there’s an emotional side to it too. Pouring one’s heart and soul into something, in some cases pulling from very personal experiences, all in the name of creating art that could one day reach a receptive audience is the holy grail. I’d like to think it’s why most people do it. But in order to reach that holy grail, to come even marginally close to making a viable living as a screenwriter or director or actor or any other discipline that involves storytelling, you have to get really comfortable with the word no. Or, no thanks. Or, I’ll pass. Like, having someone rub your head while telling you a story, comfortable. Like, laying in a hammock on a hot summer’s day and gently swaying in the cool breeze, comfortable. Like, having Betty White hold you and tell you everything is going to be okay, comfortable. Comfy.

I’ve always been told, the best way to break in (if you’re a screenwriter) is to just keep writing! And this is 50% sound advice. You need to build up your arsenal of polished projects. You can’t go out into the entertainment market with only one script. You need several. Most literary managers will suggest a minimum of four projects. And not first drafts either, those little babies need to be fully baked. You need to engage script readers, pay for industry evaluations, host table reads, have friends read your material, edit, rewrite and repeat. As this writer/director aptly put it on Twitter: Editing is the slow process of losing your fucking mind so that the characters might have their own.

AMEN, sir. And this is only step one. Once your babies are ready to be released into the cruel cruel world, you – as their creator – must hustle and network and foster relationships (meaningful relationships) and pitch and schlepp your wares around Hollywood until someone sees something in your project that previously only you could see. Until you get a YES. This could come in many forms, of course. It could be a yes to reviewing your material. Even better, a yes to producing and/or financing your material. Or a yes, I’d like to option or purchase your material. All of that is a delicious crack into the unbreakable bubble that seems to surround this industry.

Since leaving my job in June to focus on screenwriting full-time (or as long as my bank account would allow), my metaphorical babies felt ready to be revealed last September, and so the door knocking fully commenced. Two features and two pilots (both with series bibles). In the past few months I’ve been dedicated to networking, meeting new friends for coffee, leaning on existing friends to introduce me to producers and managers and scheduling as many pitch meetings as I could manage. I’ve also been submitting a short film I wrote, produced, directed and self-funded to film festivals across North America. Here’s the part of this blog post where I bust out some stats…

Rejection by the numbers

Number of meetings I’ve secured with potential literary managers – 2

Number of literary managers I’ve signed with – 0 (you only need one, btw)

Number of film festivals I’ve submitted to – 27

Number of festivals that have said no thank you (so far) – 14

Number of film and television projects I’ve been pitching – 4

Number of pitches I have delivered – 19

Of those pitches, number of development execs who agreed to review my material – 6

Number of dev execs who reviewed my material and decided to pass – 2

As you can see, a lot of grinding needs to take place in order to bump up your odds and find that one YES to kickstart your career. Not that the hustle ever ends, even if you come out of the gate with a financial or critical hit. But it definitely helps.

Here’s the secret to all of this, tho

Returning to my initial point about uncovering something meaningful amidst all this rejection – FEEDBACK. With each and every no, I’ve received some really constructive and helpful advice. Ways to elevate my stories, pick up the pacing, develop my characters, possible plot twists and ways to drive home what my protagonists have at risk but also what motivates them. It’s made me a better writer.

So, if you’re a screenwriter and you’ve made it this far (in this lengthy blog post but also in your own creative process), I can’t tell you how life changing a regular dose of rejection can be. It could be the very thing that helps you sell your first script.

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On Quitting Your Day Job

Posted on July 20, 2019 by Heather Magee

I began my career many moons ago after living in Australia for a year. While in Oz, I took odd jobs to fund my trip as I made my way around the country, every time I was running short on money or on the brink of begging my parents to pump cash into my account. Server, bartender, cleaner, shuttle bus driver – you name it.

Since then, I’ve had a satisfying professional career and I’ve met some incredible people along the way, many of them lifelong friends. And one mantra I’ve always maintained, no matter what, is to never quit your day job.

This, of course, applies particularly to people who are pursuing something creative or high risk that potentially won’t earn a viable income. I’ve always preached, especially to my creative friends, the importance of remaining gainfully employed while in pursuit of your dreams.

For some, they get lucky early on, and figure out how to blur the lines between day job and dream job. For the rest of us, it’s a delicate dance between committing fully to what feeds your belly while still carving out time for what feeds your soul.

I thought I had this down. While being relatively satisfied in my day jobs, I’ve always made time – dedicated time – to my creative pursuits. For a while it was freelance journalism and about five or six years ago, before moving to Los Angeles, it became screenwriting.

In LA, I’ve worked out a sort of writing schedule or ritual. Every Wednesday and Saturday night, for about two hours, I settle in to my favorite table in my favorite bar in Venice (the oldest bar in Los Angeles) where my favorite bartender has a cold glass of California chardonnay waiting for me. Like. Clockwork.

Last year, I decided to turn one of my scripts into a short film, something I produced, directed and self-funded while maintaining the most demanding job of my career to date. And I discovered how much I loved the experience of collaborating with a diverse group of creatives and the journey of bringing a story from page to screen. Meanwhile, as I was shooting said film, I turned 40. I’m not sure if this is related because I hate the idea of having some cliché midlife crisis, but I decided to quit my day job to develop more projects for film and TV. I guess this was my Ferrari moment?

I’m a writer first and foremost, no doubt about it. I’m happiest sat in the darkest corner of the darkest bar observing and writing. Much like the dark little London pub I’m sitting in right now as I write this. But there is something thrilling about the challenge of directing, working with actors and translating a script into a moving picture.

So here I am, nearly two months in to a self-imposed professional hiatus, having followed none of my own advice and quit my job. My goal is to complete as many projects as possible by the end of summer to pitch, develop or sell. And given I live in the real world and not the fictitious scenarios of my characters, I’ll need to land another day job soon. And that’s okay, cuz a girl’s gotta eat. But I’m grateful I was in a position to give myself the space and time to pursue these creative urges. Even more grateful to have a loving partner who understands and supports me.

I still stand by the mantra of not quitting your day job, but if you can take a little break to give your dreams your full attention, give it a shot. You never know what interesting opportunities may bubble up.

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Everything I Learned as a First-time Filmmaker

Posted on January 28, 2019 by Heather Magee

Production on my first film wrapped nearly 3 months ago, and it’s taken me this long to sit down and reflect and put into words how it all felt. Not a necessary ritual of course, but it’s how I process things. The swirl of emotion isn’t as raw all these weeks later, but strange things stand out about that day. Like the vibrant colors of the autumn leaves and the rain that waited until the exact moment we packed up to leave our final location. My husband stuffing my pockets with heat packs to then give to our freezing actors. Uttering the words “that’s a wrap,” something my crew had to prompt me to do because the rookie director forgot.

I’m writing this from my favorite cafe in Topanga Canyon. The last time I came here to write, I was knees deep in pre-production, sifting through dozens of emails from prospective assistant directors and lighting techs. I wish I could go back in time for one minute to assure myself that everything would work out better than we ever dreamed it would. But that’s all part of the journey, isn’t it? Venturing into the unknown and all of the anxiety and self-soothing by way of chardonnay that comes with it.

I didn’t go to film school. I studied business and have maneuvered my way around an endless list of corporations over the past two decades. I didn’t know the first thing about producing or directing, but I do know what hard works looks like. I know how to listen and collaborate with people and be completely open to failing. I know what it’s like to work long hours, manage large-scale projects and stay within budget. So I suppose my day job prepared me for the hustle that’s required in indie filmmaking. But I never could have prepared for what the experience would actually feel like. Film school or not, you kind of have to jump in and absorb all the learnings you can. Sink or swim, as they say.

Whether you’re a first-timer like me, or you’ve been at it for a while, here’s my list of personal anecdotes I hope are helpful to someone out there, just as all the hundreds of film blogs and articles I devoured were for me.

Do it yourself. To quote writer/director/producer Paul Haggis, “Please don’t ask me to read your script; what’s important is that YOU believe in it.” I wrote, produced, directed, self-funded and co-casted my film (on top of maintaining my day job) and while I’ve never worked so fucking hard in all my existence, I’m proud to say I made it happen. You don’t need to wait until someone else believes in your project. Get out there and get it done.

Invest in a talented crew. If you’re indie, your budget is undoubtedly tight. I feel you. But, as our brilliant cinematographer reinforced, the only way to successfully make your days is to invest in your team. If you have friends and family who work in film who are open to joining your crew, all the better! That was the case for me and I am forever grateful.

Leverage your personal network. Per above, I was fortunate to fill some of the spots on my crew with friends and family. But remember, not all roles require a background in film. My husband and dad were exceptional PAs/pedestrian traffic facilitators. My mom catered craft services. All of our background actors were friends and family. A friend designed our storyboards while another — who has a background in entertainment — helped me hold auditions and source our cast. More friends helped set up and tear down our set. It takes a god damn village, so don’t be afraid to ask for some help.

Ask questions and be vulnerable. Again, leaning on my personal network, I set up informational meetings with friends of friends who worked in film and production and made no secret of my lack of experience. Don’t be afraid to ask what may seem like basic questions. Be prepared and be mindful of people’s time. And say thank you!

Communicate your vision clearly. I can’t stress the value of over-preparing enough. Create your shot lists well in advance and get feedback from your DP and your editor. Speak simply and succinctly when rehearsing a scene. Provide crystal clear feedback to your actors and balance your feedback with praise, pointing out everything that worked. Film sets are no place for the longwinded, and thankfully, that is not a verbal ailment I suffer from.

Be open to feedback and pivoting. The one thing you can count on in filmmaking is last minute changes. Things will shift to accommodate timing or logistics or a million other constraints you may be facing. We shot in a tiny 16×20 storefront for 2 full days, so I know what I’m talking about. Be fluid and be open, as sometimes an unexpected pivot can lead to a better outcome.

Theater actors make great film actors. This life-changing advice came from a few different sources. One, writer/director Sean Baker, who suggested tapping in to the theater community to source your cast during a Film Independent panel discussion. A few months later, an actor and friend of a friend (thank you personal network!) suggested the same thing, specifically a theater program in Vancouver where I sourced three of our actors.

Most of all, be present. Those 14-hour days go by quickly so try and take a moment to really absorb what’s happening. I’ll quote one more director, Greta Gerwig, who I saw speak while we were in pre-production and these words permeated my subconscious throughout production.

“You only get to not know what you’re doing once. Don’t miss it, because it’s incredibly powerful.”

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